A solitary swallow flies in a wide arc overhead, doesn't linger, hurrying on to the southern hemisphere.
Brings a deep and startled wonder which I can't share, am losing already.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Click to learn more...
Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
Thirty words a day, about walking the dog. Inspired by Clare's blog Once around the Park
Trédaniel plan d'eau
Click to learn more...
MAIN BLOG
About Me
Blog Archive
-
▼
2008
(265)
-
▼
October
(26)
- Down the road, early evening.
- Up the road, afternoon.
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, afternoon
- Up the road, afternoon
- Down the road, late afternoon (Sunday).
- Woods near Pledran, by Gillian's (Saturday).
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, morning.
- Up the road, afternoon.
- Up the road, afternoon.
- Down the road, late afternoon.
- Up the road, afternoon
- Up the road, afternoon
- The old railtrack, Gare de Moncontour, morning.
- Down the road, late afternoon.
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, morning.
- Up the road, afternoon
- Down the road, late afternoon.
- Cesson beach, afternoon.
- Up the road, afternoon.
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, afternoon
- Charnier car park, St Brieuc.
- Up the road, afternoon
- Up the road, afternoon
- Down the road, late afternoon.
- Down the road, late afternoon.
- Down the road, late afternoon (Tuesday).
-
▼
October
(26)
4 comments:
oh that's beautiful, the sadness of the last summer birds leaving
Who taught you the names of the birds, Lucy?
Thank you.
CGP - it was so late, and so alone, it really was odd to see it. Our swallows left at least a month ago, and even the passage ones are long gone. They're so vulnerable and fragile, their chances of getting there and back so slim, my heart goes out to them.
Bee - umm, I think I mostly taught myself from books! I had a good childhood friend from a family of nature-loving Quaker schoolteachers, and her dad would sometimes borrow a minibus and drive a group of us out to the Norfolk Broads, quite a long way, to go birdwatching. My family were quite keen on nature rambles etc, but not very well up on bird id!
But it's always been a part of my life, I think. Though I'm not an obsessive twitcher, and I can't put my finger on every little brown job or wader I might see without a reference book, I can't imagine not being aware of birds.
Rather a sad case really; my happiest teenage memories were not of parties, discoes and first snogs on Saturday nights but rather of getting up ridiculously early on Sunday mornings to meet the minibus to go birdwatching in the fens!
I think that sounds lovely! I wish that my teenager had some responsiveness to nature. The little one does, but the older one wants to be plugged into electronics at all times.
I love the sound of the "fens." I've never been to Norfolk, but one of my dearest friends is a Norfolk farmer's son.
I'm listening to the Monteverdi Vespers right now . . . so beautiful. The syncopated voices, rising and falling, are almost like swallows in flight.
Post a Comment