Day 59

At the Salthouse church of St Nicholas a nest of blue tits has been established, despite the extensive repair work to the external flint and lime mortar. The parent birds have found food in a nearby garden and are shuttling to and fro to top up their hatchlings. As one bird leaves and crosses the west face of the church, the other is already flying towards the gap in the stone work with more food.

The birds have done well to find this site for their home. The gap in the wall is just the right size for them to squeeze in, is about six metres up the face of the building and is sheltered from the wind off the sea.

This is a busy time. A blackbird scurries across the dusty street. Wrens are darting into gaps in hedgerows. House martins have returned to the mud bowls under the eaves they have been visiting for generations at a nearby cottage. In the wild plum tree there is a commotion of chirping from a nest full of small birds chiding the adults to bring, “More! More! More!”


I have reached a point where I am unable to deliver, “More! More! More!” of this series.

I am very fortunate to be living in these strange times in such a beautiful place. Knowing that I would be looking out for something to write about here each day, has made my daily exercise more than just a duty of self-care. It has been a blessing to be able to immerse myself in these surroundings.

With the gradual loosening of restrictions on lockdowns around the world, we are now at a time when we must reconnect and find ways of recovering and re-structure our lives together. What I have seen here emphasises to me the importance of doing this in ways that allow the natural world to thrive alongside us. Our good health, in all aspects, depends on everyone working together to ensure this is so.

I will continue posting bits and pieces about wildlife and my natural surroundings while I continue on my travels.

Thank you all for the “Likes” and comments you have sent in about these 59 posts. It has been a pleasure to hear from you.

With Love

Christopher Perry

Saturday, 16th May, 2020

Day 44

The sunlight of recent weeks has been a boon, but these darker days are more in tune with the current mood. Are they reflective of it, or the cause of the recent shift in humour?

I realise that the lowering clouds, the loss of the greater space beyond, is matched by the thickening of leaves on the trees. Beautifully green and full as they are, for example, the hawthorn bowed with May blossom, the filling out of trees also narrows any available perspective.

When the rain comes, it comes hard and heavy. It is sharp on the window, almost a clattering, almost icy. In the lane loose stones, previously strung out in long trails by the occasional passing vehicle, are swept up and driven downhill. The dust coagulates into mud, collects at the bottom of the fast-formed puddles, is left in sticky heaps when the rainwater has drained.

A female blackbird, (a lively brown creature) lowers itself into the centre of a puddle and uses its wings to splash water droplets on its back, ducks forward and scoops up water onto the back of its head. When the burst of rain has passed the songs of blackbirds are the first heard. The rain is welcome.

April has passed in a blur of statistics and official announcements that announce no material change from the previous official announcements. The government graph does not describe some Swiss mountain to tunnel through to sunny uplands, as the Blonde Buffoon blusters, but represents a wave of accumulating lost lives. Each passing life sends out ripples that will eventually touch us all.

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Christopher Perry

30th April, 2020

Dawn Chorus

Something wakes me

Again

It’s 5 a.m. when he starts to call

From the weeping willow top

Again

He calls and the day responds

With a syncopated beat of passing cars

Interwoven with the first bleary bus

And heavy lorries with heavy goods

Again

He calls and blinds roll up

Curtains open drawing yeasty yawns

Stretches, press ups, first cigarettes

Sleepy sex, missed breakfasts

Again

He calls and a released dog barks

Joyous leaps and then steamy squat

Cat uncurls and ambles home

Rattle of dry food pours in her bowl

Again

He calls and above the noise

A muffled reply he just hears

An echo, bar a few notes

That mark his space in time and place

Again

He calls and I slip back to sleep

Dreams of being lost and late

And wrong names and missing trains

Of sinking ships, over-booked planes

Again, again, again, again.

.

CLP

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n.b, NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 3: Things developing, or unravelling, over an extended time period.