A Wet morning But One Full Of Life
With the rich fen soil damp from over night rains and the air riding on a gentle fen breeze most minds would be thinking spring is still far away let alone here, yet I sit here with early morning cuppa watching that special matinee that only nature can direct, one with no words nor leading actor but special effects that no computer would ever achieve.
My gang of painted faced bandits feed on the niger seed feeders while four black birds tread the wet grass hunting worm and all under the gaze of that little fat robin who seems to check every move they all make. The call of collar dove and wood pigeon wander through this quiet still morning, calls of love and attention haunting over the flat lands while the chatter of finches never settles as they gossip in lilac tree.
This morning I travel the fens for a few hours, camera in hand and eyes watching every hedgerow and thicket, a small rest for me to enjoy after a busy week, a chance to enjoy the world that I've missed this last month. Long hours and worried thoughts have made this hermit long to walk again, great drains and river banks of the east I'll explore, reed beds and willows I'll pass and wetland beauty will cross every path I stroll to catch my eye.
Bare winter trees with ivy clad trunks will greet me with a welcome wave in this morning breeze and crested grebe will whisper as they watch me pass their fishing grounds, such a different world to that I lead in my magical barn but one with which I walk hand in hand though the long seasons and one I would hate to lose.
No comments:
Post a Comment