Tuesday, 13 August 2019

It was the Rainbow gave Thee Birth 13th August 2019


I took a birding friend, Mark, to see the Kingfishers of Shrike Meadow early this Tuesday morning.


A beautiful morning of sunshine and complete calm with just the merest hint of autumn in the air.


For sure I am slightly obsessive but for me the bird and its situation brings an inner calm as I sit in the hide and reflect on this land I live in and how it has been brought low by scoundrels and liars, both men and women, with no soul or care for anything but themselves. Dark times indeed but the Kingfishers of Shrike Meadow can and do provide some diversion and light relief.


The poem below seems an appropriate tribute to the Kingfisher and the pool at Shrike Meadow. 




The Kingfisher

It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,
And left thee all her lovely hues;
And, as her mother's name was Tears,
So runs it in my blood to choose
For haunts the lonely pools, and keep
In company with trees that weep.
Go you and, with such glorious hues,
Live with proud peacocks in green parks;
On lawns as smooth as shining glass,
Let every feather show its marks;
Get thee on boughs and clap thy wings
Before the windows of proud kings.
Nay, lovely Bird, thou art not vain;
Thou hast no proud, ambitious mind;
I also love a quiet place
That's green, away from all mankind;
A lonely pool, and let a tree 
Sigh with her bosom over me


William Henry Davies 1871-1940





































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