Stormcocks drive away
the would be thief, their proud chests
puffed out and burly
Two haiku’s today. And some photographs from our lovely walk in the moors. The first one is about a pair of Mistle Thrushes who we witnessed chase off a magpie. I don’t think they would have built a nest yet, perhaps they were just defending the tree they’d decided to root in. Stormcock is an old English name for them. Quite an evocative one too as it honours their behaviour, singing from a high vantage point, even in the worst weather, almost in defiance or celebration of it. They seem fearless and fearsome birds. Unafraid to wade in. And they way they present themselves, chests out, head high, confident, noisy and musical. I’d never seen one before, so was quite exciting for me.
Silhouetted crow
black feathers consume the sun
dying in embers
The second Haiku relates to the following photo I took. About crows again, I keep going on about them. “Why don’t you marry one?” I hear you shout. It was just a lucky shot. but I’m very proud of it.
We also saw a skylark at ground level, I’d only ever seen them high up, singing their little hearts out. It disappeared into a field of rape. It sung, sung and kept singing all the way down, till it landed. Then it shut up. It landed in the vicinity of this patch!
A sunset pic
A puffball(?) on the trunk of a dead silver birch.
Finally, a pretty little long-tailed tit, whispering away with its mates in this hawthorn blossom. It sat long enough for me to zoom right in on him.
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