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#birdwatching
On a chimney crown in Northampton town, Where frost has stitched the fields in white, A traveler rests in feathered gown, A lantern in the fading light. From Arctic winds and tundra wide, Where silver moons on silence gleam, He's crossed the cold on steady glide, A hunter threading winter's seam. His amber eyes, two embers bright, Scan hedgerow, meadow, drift, and eave; Each shadow stirs his ancient sight, Each whisper tells him what to seize. He rides the dusk on soundless wing, No branch too bare, no roof too steep; The north still in him, listening, While village windows blink and sleep. A pale command against the sky, He keeps the old and patient ways- To watch, to wait, then fall and fly Through brittle air and iron days. And when the thaw begins its creep, And robins test the tender ground, He'll turn again to snowfields deep, To star-shot dark without a sound.
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Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 11:11 AM UTC
A Snowy Owl
i would love to be able to identify a bird from its call or the shape of wide-spread wings as one flies overhead in theory it may seem impressive but if i were to successfully distinguish a chiffchaff from a willow warbler based on the patterning and colour of its plumage or the shape and length of its tail feathers i struggle to think of a single person who would respond with more than an indifferent mocking or pandering "oh"
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Apr 14, 2023
Apr 14, 2023 at 10:20 AM UTC
in theory
The bird-watcher hit a pole in the meadow and -- now he lies in wait.
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Mar 23, 2023
Mar 23, 2023 at 4:54 AM UTC
[ The bird-watcher hit ]
Awake to radiant hues Sweet sunrise lullabies Cherry red underbelly Take me to your home in the cold night Let us dance a fearless catwalk Don’t hide in silence Let’s dance A naked truth uncovers us aloud
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May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 11:04 AM UTC
Birdwatcher
I bird watched from my bedroom window. Saw three thrushes a dozen sparrows and a crow. My mother was downstairs getting dinner. My little brother was in the garden digging up worms to chase his twin sisters with. My other sister was trying to knit as Mother had shown her. Dad was at work. I mused on Sheila at school how we sat on the sports field during lunch. She said little and I seemed stuck for words. She did say she had wanted to be a nun but had changed her mind. She didn't say why she being too shy. My friend Rolly played football he had wanted me to play but I was with her. I watched now and then they lost three goals to one. I like her slim figure unhappy face but to my mind a neat behind.
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 3:47 AM UTC
BENNY BIRDWATCHED 1962.