perfect newness...

Back to grey and gloom, no dawn, no dusk, just varying shades of greyness…. But in between are small treasures: a “Pienkowski” sky, new moon painted in the still, evening air, twilight shades of mingled night and day.

Silvered Birch

Seed-filled feeders entice the hungry birds, who pipe their fluting tones from frosted branches. A male pheasant steals into the garden, devouring morsels the chickens haven’t found. Suddenly a flash of red on the silvered birch, a new visitor, a Great Spotted Woodpecker, pausing against the tree trunk before darting into the woods again.

A bird in the Bush

Hiding in the hedge’s footings, Blackbird hunts among the leaf litter, hunger making him braver than before, he comes nearer the door to wait for food, an apple, pear or a few spilled grains. There is still brightness among the greyness we just have to be more mindful…

Paul Muldoon’s little poem appears a little bleak but does seem to summarise dull, January days.

A Stone

A Stone at its core,

this snowball’s the porcelain

knob on winter’s door 

~

But then door knobs are usually a way of letting ourselves out or in!

Have a great day, thanks for stopping by!

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