21st
April 2013
A
perfect morning, a new day.
Last night, with a crystal clear sky, the brightest stars and planets were in a great arc with the Moon cut in half nestled against Leo's front paw. This morning, the only star was the Sun in a clear sky and it was rising as I left the front door.
There was a frost and the ground had dried somewhat, so progress was easier.
Sir Herne the Heron flew over from the lake with head tucked in, flying zig-zag until a Crow mobbed him and then he turned rapidly; so impressive for a big bird.
On the hill, the Sun shone through a soft mist. It was cold in spite of the Sun, and the frost stayed in sheltered places.
Mister Reynard was ambling home through the park after a night out, his splendid bushy brush following him. Buzzard cried out over the woods, but I couldn't see him.
At breakfast time, a solitary House Martin swooped among the sheep and lambs. There were no Fieldfare about; they are off home at last. A grating cry above me was a Cuckoo flying east. I hadn't heard the classic cry. This was a strange noise. There are so many Green Woodpeckers: what's so funny?
Raggedy Robin is still missing. I suppose it is the end for him; such a shame after surviving the winter. Poor Raggedy!
Blushing Milkmaids stand with their feet in muddy ditches and there are banks of Primroses everywhere. The sound of bees gladdens me!
Last night, with a crystal clear sky, the brightest stars and planets were in a great arc with the Moon cut in half nestled against Leo's front paw. This morning, the only star was the Sun in a clear sky and it was rising as I left the front door.
There was a frost and the ground had dried somewhat, so progress was easier.
Sir Herne the Heron flew over from the lake with head tucked in, flying zig-zag until a Crow mobbed him and then he turned rapidly; so impressive for a big bird.
On the hill, the Sun shone through a soft mist. It was cold in spite of the Sun, and the frost stayed in sheltered places.
Mister Reynard was ambling home through the park after a night out, his splendid bushy brush following him. Buzzard cried out over the woods, but I couldn't see him.
At breakfast time, a solitary House Martin swooped among the sheep and lambs. There were no Fieldfare about; they are off home at last. A grating cry above me was a Cuckoo flying east. I hadn't heard the classic cry. This was a strange noise. There are so many Green Woodpeckers: what's so funny?
Raggedy Robin is still missing. I suppose it is the end for him; such a shame after surviving the winter. Poor Raggedy!
Blushing Milkmaids stand with their feet in muddy ditches and there are banks of Primroses everywhere. The sound of bees gladdens me!
Oh,
cruel Fate! That Sól
should desert you
When
your need was greatest, and
With
the everlasting winter, so cold,
Would
conspire to bring your death.
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