This morning being fine and full of birdsong, I stumbled out into the forest (because I can, being on the edge of it). I didn't get lost, but I did stray from the path, and I did wander further than I meant to. I always do this - go on until I suddenly know that I have gone too far, walking back will be difficult, the days that follow also. But the birds did lead me on, so many of them in full voice, particularly the small ones, those you don't often see nowadays, unless you live near a forest or a protected place. My neighbour has made a study of bird language. There are many, as you might imagine. The song of a linnet is nothing like the low, persistent call of a dove. Chaffinch tweets melodiously and the Blue Tit is more conversational. Each year they come and nest in the bird box that Son made when he was at school. One feels privileged.
I think this may be all I can say for now. More of a tweet than a post :)
5 comments:
tweeting back to you Signs. Birdsong marvellous here too, when it isn't bucketing down.
Saw some morning doves in my backyard.
You seem to be well. I am glad of it. The bird box of your son is extremely touching: I think of my daughter, I think of so many things when I read your posts.
Of course, the birds have been unkind to me...
I'm glad about that, Montag - not about the birds being unkind (why were they?) - but about the thinking of many things :)
Redwing blackbirds have returned here. I don't believe you have them in England.
Yours for connecting,
mim
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