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Image from www.ghettodriveby.com/
I learn my lessons so today dressed like an onion in thermal trousers, ski-vest, T-shirt, jumper, fleece, windproof layer etc.... So cold even the birds were keeping a low profiles. I have to admire the resilience of the gulls that seem to thrive on biting winds. And not forgetting the lapwings who continue with their buffetting displays, their broad wings mastering the wind.
Our score, without much thanks to me, was 77 species (down on last year's 89).
Great fun visiting places with scopes and binoculars looking for as many different bird species as we could find in
6am start tomorrow - hmmm!
I enjoyed reading last night and Colin Smith's accompanying photos were excellent - wish I could take photos like that!
I once read it's good to do something different everyday: a new recipe, going home a different way etc. So I decided to explore all the local footpaths - and there's plenty to go at. Yesterday I planned a short circular from Botany Bay (Chorley) to The Nab (a great
The photo is one of mine. It shows Botany Bay and the Leeds Liverpool Canal
Christine Bousfield has just selected sanderlings as Write Out Loud poem of the month. Thanks Christine, I'm really flattered.
This Willow Warbler is another of Mike Atkinson's photos. If you haven't yet checked out his site - do. Just click on the link from my blog - but don't copy his photos! Inspirational though they are....
Today I got my boots muddy, tramping my tetrad for the Birdaltas Bird survey - and what joy - I saw my first 4 swallows in Euxton this year. Welcome back! They were flick-flack-twisting over Commissary's Farm, taking a well deserved feast, I think, after flying all that way. Glad to report that willow warblers and chiffchaff have also returned. This photo is a willow warbler, very like the chiffchaff until it starts to sing. Also the chiffchaff flicks its tail every time it flits, flits, flits through the trees.Swallows
on telephone wires. Excited chatter.
Saharan sun-scorched faces,
grass-dust and salt-spray still fresh on bellies,
they thirst to procreate.
Before phones ever ring
they know
when the feet of flies tickle English celandines,
and wings beat,
butterflying north,
tracing the curves of Earth,
weaving lovers’ lace
through the skies.
And as violets rush to colour
swallows sweep to barns,
build, rebuild their nests,
hatch, feed, fledge
the returning pulse of life.
6th April 2008 Withnell Fold
these chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff-chiffs are heard,
winding their spells through leafless worlds.
The steadiness of the chiff-chaff beat,
reassuring me that this flaky white
is no more than peeling old paint,
dead skin brushing off
as the season pulls on a new linen coat.
Chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff-chiff
charm from a distant land,
flamboyantly bowing its tail through the trees,
casting its hope with its hop-flick-hops,
dispelling the snow as it steadily goes,
chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff-chiff,
calling each leaf to stir in each bud,
unwavering herald that Earth really does
now tilt towards a North African sun.
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