The frost melts to dew
timid birds find their voices
in the burning dawn
We went for a dawn walk today, we saw the sun rise and heard the birds sing. A Willow Warbler warbled in a willow (really). We didn’t see any otters. The river flit is on the edge of their travelling range. Would be lovely to see one.
Pic I took of Flitton Church and the sun rising behind it.
The blackthorn archway
promised enchantment, a door
distant bells ring out
What a beautiful walk this morning. One of the blackthorn trees on the edge of the moors, bathed in the warming sun of early spring, was flowering. It must sit in a sun trap, as the other blackthorns nearby were not as magnificently decked out as this beauty. The sky was a clear blue, the morning chill was ebbing away. There were birds everywhere. Woodpeckers (Green and Great Spotted), Buzzards, Chiff-Chaffs, Treecreepers to name some of the more unusual ones.
Managed to get some (I say this humbly!) wonderful photos. Here are four, two of the blackthorn tree in question, one of a feisty wren who took exception to my presence and sat above my head singing loudly at me (I assume telling me in musical terms to “piss off”). And finally a teeny baby frog Debbie found on the moors. It is very early for a juvenile frog, when most of the new brood seem to have only just hatched into tadpoles, seething in the shallow ponds and stagnant parts of the river, not sure how it emerged so quickly as I doubt something this small crawled up onto land last spring.
Weathercock straining,
To catch glimpse of gliding crows,
Yearning through the rust.
There is a diversion in place at the moment, due to resurfacing or something of that ilk. Which means us humble villagers need to drive the scenic route to Flitwick, a journey which normally is 1.5 miles is now significantly longer (by 3 or 4?). So as I was driving to the gym I passed the impressive site of the beautiful old church in our sister village of Flitton, the weathercock at the top seemed to be twisting and turning to catch a look at two crows which were riding the wind, expertly gliding and banking in the air without beating their wings. I felt sorry for the Weathercock, it looked like he really wanted to fly too.
