April 2010

Well, in age-old fashion, March, having come in like a lamb, went out very much like a lion, roaring and mauling all within reach! The sea got a great old swell going, the white foam over the rocks clearly visible even from a couple of miles inland.

Boat trip

The Sound, flat as slate.
‘Round the tumbled rocky point
the real sea awaits.



It’s lovely to hear the birds singing again after that long, hard spell. (Saw my first swallow today!) The blackbirds mellifluous notes fill the warm air now…when they can get a word in edgeways with all the pheasant calling!

Lon dubh

Ceol leachtach arís.
Londubh dubh ar chraobh lom, dhubh,
órchantain órghiob.


Black on a black branch,
golden beak goldenly sings.
Liquid music flows.]



This last week of sunshine has, weeks later than usual, brought on the bright spears of mont bretia and blue bells, shaggy, unkempt tufts of grass, silky catkins on the willows and translucent, and delicate, trepidatious green leaves on bare trees…


Grass thickens lushly.
Leaves unfurl on every branch.
The Greening’s begun.



The wonderful weather continues…Where we live, we are surrounded by pheasant and their calls at all hours of the day and night.

from Pheasant songs

Brackened pheasants rise
from invisibility