as if effortless
common gulls follow ferry
taunting of bipeds
~
CLP 13/10/2022
on flight
Tag Archives: Birds
on life
sparrow hawk attack
cacophony of squealing
rookery alerted
~
n.b. The most remarkable sight of a sparrow hawk trying to drag a jackdaw to a plucking post. The prey nearly the same size as the hawk, makes things awkward, unbalancing the flight and managing to drop to the ground in the pub garden. The sparrow hawk does not tarry, seen off noisily by the other corvids raised from the surrounding trees by the alarm.
CLP 01/09/2022
on time
left on open grass
laid without ceremony
better things to do?
~
n.b. To the human eye these looked white, to the camera this beautiful blue.
CLP 18/07/2022
on time
traffic accident
engine off, birdsong, fresh air
good to be alive
~
CLP 18/07/2022
Swifts 2022
I heard your squealing
delighted to see you back
over our rooftops
~
n.b. Later and fewer this year. Heard and seen 14/05/2022z
CLP 15/05/2022
on light
it's nearly midnight
there is too much of it now
they sing all night long
~
n.b. Not that I’m objecting to birdsong.
CLP 14/05/2022
Why getting up and stepping out is better than drawing the blinds and giving up
last owl
first blackbird
ruffled wren
crow drifts from stricken oak
gull sets down by upturned bin
starlings strung out overhead
puffed up pigeon pursuing hen
sparrows cluster
blue tit picking cherry blossom
woodpecker working through the park
mallard mutters while wandering past
robin sings to robin across the path
oh! happiness of goldfinches
~
n.b. NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Thirteen: living with hope in your heart.
CLP 13/04/2022
August iv
sharp red berries
spilled from urgent beaks
mashed underfoot
sweet yellow paste
tentative young wasp
~
CLP 11/08/2021
Time #1
when it’s been really hot
like today, close to the mid-point of June
eventually the blue begins to thin
as if mixed with a few drops of white spirit
.
the air moves a little faster
adding cool to shade
under the solitary oak
crowning the rise
.
arrhythmic sounds of a distant road backwash
strangely vigorous mid-afternoon songs of blackbirds
who call as if expecting rain
but it won’t, not yet
.
there is no accumulation of clouds
over the Blackdown Hills
just the wind seasoned by a dash of brine
chilled through months of swirling winter tides
.
provoked, other birds respond, goldfinches
keening for respite from potential drought
trying to sweet -talk moisture from the sky
to fill the hard-set hoof prints and tyre-track hollows
.
to soften the soil and freshen pasture
to fill the brook now wearing a skin
that barely covers its old bones
its smoothed stones lie dry, matted green
.
heading west into the breeze
every feather extended to the full
a buzzard floats along the hedge
then shifts its path toward the wood
.
I sit against the towering trunk
spine aligned to its hard rutted bark
listen to the plaintive songs
wonder at how fast my sixty years have gone
On Water iii
great crested grebes dance
like that Sunday afternoon
when our hearts dove-tailed
~
n.b. Somewhat hidden by the willow branches, but they are there…promise.
CLP 12/04/2021
Voyage des Mots 