halftwo
Wird Batcher
A cold front overnight brought grey clouds - little ragged holes giving promise with a glimpse of blue. A breeze stirred the land. Movement walked the morning.
By the reservoir the Curlews were restless, taking flight and calling to circle back to their field, where Crows remained. A Little owl scolded a cat that stalked along the wall. Oystercatchers flew in from over the ridge in formation with three Common gulls - the first of the season, post-breeding birds from further north.
Linnets and Meadow pipits peppered the lanes and fields. Reed buntings sang from the walls. Swallows bombed the water to bathe.
On a toadflax a beetle - a tiny chrome dome - iridescent, metallic green turning orange - resting on a flower. An electric blue damselfly sat by the water waiting for the sun.
At the steep escarpment edge Swifts met the surf of the breeze foaming up the hillside, slicing into the buffet with ease, curving down towards the lower land at speed.
Down a water-rutted track turned dusty by the season's dry the bilberries were ripening. A Gatekeeper skipped amongst the Meadow browns and Ringlets. Pheasant feathers of ferns pushed amongst heather, silvery-barked rowens, and hollies rising above the shrubs.
A Buzzard sailed out from the slopes to turn for height, rising before looping up to a stall before flipping head down to a vertical dive.
Now hawthorns and oaks full of tit and warbler are suddenly silent: and a Sparrowhawk glides by with some screaming prey - the terror of its victim spanning the pricking valley.
Out towards the dark moors the sky finally splits and sunlight spills. The wind pauses and songsters sing again.
By the reservoir the Curlews were restless, taking flight and calling to circle back to their field, where Crows remained. A Little owl scolded a cat that stalked along the wall. Oystercatchers flew in from over the ridge in formation with three Common gulls - the first of the season, post-breeding birds from further north.
Linnets and Meadow pipits peppered the lanes and fields. Reed buntings sang from the walls. Swallows bombed the water to bathe.
On a toadflax a beetle - a tiny chrome dome - iridescent, metallic green turning orange - resting on a flower. An electric blue damselfly sat by the water waiting for the sun.
At the steep escarpment edge Swifts met the surf of the breeze foaming up the hillside, slicing into the buffet with ease, curving down towards the lower land at speed.
Down a water-rutted track turned dusty by the season's dry the bilberries were ripening. A Gatekeeper skipped amongst the Meadow browns and Ringlets. Pheasant feathers of ferns pushed amongst heather, silvery-barked rowens, and hollies rising above the shrubs.
A Buzzard sailed out from the slopes to turn for height, rising before looping up to a stall before flipping head down to a vertical dive.
Now hawthorns and oaks full of tit and warbler are suddenly silent: and a Sparrowhawk glides by with some screaming prey - the terror of its victim spanning the pricking valley.
Out towards the dark moors the sky finally splits and sunlight spills. The wind pauses and songsters sing again.
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