Swallows gathering in a group for a gossip is new to me. It makes me smile.
September has gone and with it go the swallows. I last saw them on September 15th, strung along the telephone wires, motionless against the wind and the rain. With windscreen wipers beating a steady rhythm under sullen skies, I drove beside chains of swallow-shaped silhouettes hung like cut-out paper dolls. Continue reading “Hirundine Diaries”
What will be the colour of April that I’ll remember when this month wanes?
“Oh to be in England now that April’s there… “
I think Browning would have yearned particularly for April in England year: in this corner of England at least. Continue reading “The View from Here: the rhythms of life”
When we were first talking about moving to Cornwall I made it quite clear that I didn’t want seagulls in my airspace
The balcony is awash with babies. A plethora of fluffy fledglings, often with soft grey down still competing with new adult feathers. They make me think of cuckoos, these innocent babes, for invariably they are larger than their industrious parents: puffed up by their motley mix of feathers, with their wings fluttering and their gapes wide and demanding. Life is so precarious for these infants in their first few days of life in the big wide world. Continue reading “Birds on the Balcony: babies, buzzards and soaring seagulls”
it is on the sailing cloud and in the invisible wind
With the run of warm dry weather broken, we moved from gentle rain to heavy rain to thick cloud. A brooding, oppressive sort of day. The colour of this day was gunmetal grey. Continue reading “Birds on the Balcony: silhouettes in symphony”
Regardless … will somebody please make a Cornish version?
One day this week there was an unusual degree of noise from the crows. Investigation with the binoculars revealed a tractor working in a field on the skyline across the valley, and behind it, crows clamoured in large numbers. Continue reading “Birds on the Balcony: Hitchcock vs Daphne”
I was reminded once more of how much joy there is in the simplest of things; the boys loved this small ritual
The first day of June! How lovely to usher in this blowsy month of early summer with Ellie and the boys. Continue reading “Birds on the Balcony: with two small boys”
The edges of their wings on the underside are like chequerboards…
I saw my first swallow of the year at Lerryn on April 19th. There it was – just the one – sitting neatly on a telephone wire. I was astonished; it seemed so early! But a few days later they were here, at Highfield, in numbers. Swooping and plunging, weaving intricate patterns through clear skies with swift sureness of eye and wing. And from the balcony, I can watch them as often from above as below. Beautiful and breath-taking grace. Continue reading “Birds on the Balcony: the swallow is come!”