halftwo
Wird Batcher
Fat bruisy berries on the hawthorns, as fruity as a Christmas pudding, being plucked by Blackbirds. A Kestrel is disturbed and wheels overhead, sending Goldfinches and Chaffinches to swirl below.
Up the track and Mistle thrushes alarm and two Jays scream from treetops. Sheep stare as they chew.
Along a forbidden track where autumn larches burn golden under dark pines, Bullfinches call softly and undulate - pinks and blacks picked out in shadows. Large agaric mushrooms stand blushing from the forest floor.
A Great-spotted woodpecker shimmies up the highest spire of a fir, its call echoing across the valley. At the top it takes off and flies away - still crying defiance.
Goldcrests and Coal tits hide and whisper, then a Buzzard, disturbed from its vantage mewls as it retreats to a further retreat.
The notched edge of the moor's plateau, like a worn bench, circles below white clouds and patches of blue. Up above the trees Red Grouse stutter at their disturbance and flick across the heather.
Down and down through scots pines - bark copper pink - and hazels still in green below, across the steam that scampers down the gully, where big hollies tower amongst birches.
A Blackbird from its feeding, slips deep into the boughs - one shade darker than shadow, a glimpse of velvet, a secret.
A twist of Wren spills from the bracken - a half song screws from the depths, as a covey of Grey Partridge springs from cover and skims the autumn tangle, their protest calls falling behind.
Silence again on the water whose surface reflects the bronze and greens of upside down trees: two Mallard slip beneath the overhang and a Heron glides grey and massive, making off to the far shore.
Up the track and Mistle thrushes alarm and two Jays scream from treetops. Sheep stare as they chew.
Along a forbidden track where autumn larches burn golden under dark pines, Bullfinches call softly and undulate - pinks and blacks picked out in shadows. Large agaric mushrooms stand blushing from the forest floor.
A Great-spotted woodpecker shimmies up the highest spire of a fir, its call echoing across the valley. At the top it takes off and flies away - still crying defiance.
Goldcrests and Coal tits hide and whisper, then a Buzzard, disturbed from its vantage mewls as it retreats to a further retreat.
The notched edge of the moor's plateau, like a worn bench, circles below white clouds and patches of blue. Up above the trees Red Grouse stutter at their disturbance and flick across the heather.
Down and down through scots pines - bark copper pink - and hazels still in green below, across the steam that scampers down the gully, where big hollies tower amongst birches.
A Blackbird from its feeding, slips deep into the boughs - one shade darker than shadow, a glimpse of velvet, a secret.
A twist of Wren spills from the bracken - a half song screws from the depths, as a covey of Grey Partridge springs from cover and skims the autumn tangle, their protest calls falling behind.
Silence again on the water whose surface reflects the bronze and greens of upside down trees: two Mallard slip beneath the overhang and a Heron glides grey and massive, making off to the far shore.
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