Goldfinch and Buzzard

Seventeen goldfinch
In the magnolia tree
Fresh buds, bright faces

Before Storm Eowyn

Jackdaw alarm calls!
Above me; silent brown wings
Buzzard, storm bringer

January 2025

Starlings


7.45 am
Iron clouds roll, I spot them!
A fleet of starlings

Stretched as thin as air
Starling flock returns to floods
From yesterday's rain

Heron and Little Egret flying past on walk

Overhead; look up!
Awkward neck crick, gangly legs
Birds and birdwatchers

Magpies, Crows and Jackdaws

Magpies in a tree
Six or seven, more maybe
Secret to be told

He feeds them. Walking
The lanes, Tor bound, beautiful
World waking up. Here

Garden Birds

In the willow twigs
Sweet garden song of robin
For the New Year now

All manner of small:
Long-tails, Chatter-spats, Dundills
Sparries, Jenny Wren

December Weekend

Rain on horizon
Sunrise! Apple red where trees
Of starlings chatter

Flat field flooded now
A boating lake for seabirds
Feather flotilla

Red gape scrapes at seeds
Window feeder mealworm treats
Starling beaks clatter

October Birds

October

Seagulls fly past fields
Like a fishing net dragging
Autumn tides to shore

Starlings arriving
In little drifts; falling leaves
Autumn flurries fly

Weymouth

Walking Weymouth beach
He feeds the beachcombing crows
Who follow his lead

On Westham Bridge, Weymouth

By the bridge waiting
Patience of a saint, stone still
Heron prays for fish

By Beaples Standing Stone

Rook rubs the sky clean
A feather duster dancing
Around the old stone

House Martins in September

Sycamore seeds spin
While House martins circle tree
Spirals everywhere

 

Swallow and swift gone
House martin hesitates; a
Late summer harvest

A week of sunshine
And the House Martin’s picnic
Fills the country sky

July Birds

 

Five bluetits flit past
Green as apples on the branch
Old orchard; new life

 

The buzzard circles
Finding a thermal. Freed from
Our mortal scope now

 

Wells

Moorhen mother sits
Surrounded by Saint’s waters
Patient protectress

This Year's Birdbox Nest

This year a pair of House Sparrows chose to raise their noisy chicks in one of our birdboxes, visible from our kitchen window. The most entertaining and enchanting family to observe and the silence, now they have fledged, is palpable. We think there were at least two chicks but we missed them fledging so there could well have been more. 

The Sparrow Box

Sparrow parents spin
Frantic food dash, fly, fly, bug
Woodlouse for lunch, yuk!

Godzilla and Bro
That’s what I nicknamed the pair
Roaring for food now

Empty Nester

A quiet kitchen
You have fledged, nest-box now cold
Little sparrows flown