Sounds of Silence - Cameos of Birdlife #5
The snow has gone now but in the last few days before spring the snow blew in with a vengeance - walking up the lane, my footsteps the only sound; my footprints just a shadow. But then a Wren sang ...
An early morning walk down our lane in the December snows of last year - a Wren sings loudly from the briar by the field gate. Another churrs angrily from moss covered stones haphazardly filling a gap in the hedge ...
By a Brook in Winter - A fresh fall of snow overnight. I walk in a winter landscape: the green fields mantled white; the blackish branches of willow and ash, edged white, starkly outlined, against the morning light; mirrored in the dark brown-grey of the brook; the distant woods a purple haze against the blue-grey snow clouds above. My footsteps the only sound.
Swifts are frequently flying low over the garden at lightning speed, screaming as they do. It’s a little like being stood on a railway station platform, with a train thundering past every few minutes.
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