Silly Little Country

Bare Ruined Choirs, where now the Sweet Birds Sing

OK maybe not so sweet. But it has been a few weeks since I have been down to Ashbridge's Bay in the morning and today marked a major transformation.

As I set out on my walk the first thing that struck me was

The time of the singing of birds is come,
And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.

OK so it was not really the voice of the turtle (or turtledove), but rather the persistent and endless harsh trill of these guys!



Nonetheless a sign of the coming spring! And if you look closely at the tree you will see the bare ruined choirs are budding! It is always great to see the red-wings back even if they may torment on me on some of my walks.

The usual suspects were all still around. I am not sure why gulls like walking on ice, but they do.



Of course the ice is melting and it is not too soon to start thinking like Goethe:

Vom Eise befreit sind Strom und Bäche
Durch des Frühlings holden, belebenden Blick,
Im Tale grünet Hoffnungsglück;
Der alte Winter, in seiner Schwäche,
Zog sich in rauhe Berge zurück.

(From the ice they are freed, the stream and brook,
By the Spring's enlivening, lovely look;
The valley's green with joys of hope;
The Winter old and weak ascends
Back to the rugged mountain slope.)

Meanwhile these guys were imploring food (delivered later by someone else).



The oldsquaws and buffleheads are still here, though the oldsquaws this morning were gathering in large numbers preparing to leave, I suspect, and chattering that strange cawing they do when gathered together. It sounds wonderful.



And finally, even though they are not leaving, here is an exemplar of a common but neat creature paddling around among the others.

posted by Alan Adamson @ 11:14 AM