A humming bird hovered next to my deck this morning. It wasn't brightly coloured - it resembled a very small, dull English sparrow in colour. It's flight was completely amazing, how it held itself steady in the air and then darted sideways. A helicopter, compared to the other birds' aeroplanes.
In the afternoon, I went to sit at the top of the hill, where you get a view of the horizon framed by trees. The sky was a brilliant blue, and there was a translucent slice of moon. Since I was a child, I have been a bit confused about the moon appearing during the day. I know there is solid science behind it, but it still seems, well, wrong.
Once I recovered from the annoyance of seeing the moon in broad daylight, I noticed the slow whorling of a raptor. He was very high up, but I could watch the ends of his wings making minor adjustments as he balanced on the themals. It reminded me of floating on my back in a swimming pool, with my arms extended, and having to tweak my lower arms to keep from rolling over. ( A less majestic an image, I know).
This magnificent bird brought to mind one of the poems 'we did' at school, Gerard Manley Hopkins, 'The Windhover'. I sat and wished I could remember beyond the first two lines. The fabulous thing about the internet is you can get this sort of stuff very quickly, even near the top of a mountain in a forest, so here goes:
In the afternoon, I went to sit at the top of the hill, where you get a view of the horizon framed by trees. The sky was a brilliant blue, and there was a translucent slice of moon. Since I was a child, I have been a bit confused about the moon appearing during the day. I know there is solid science behind it, but it still seems, well, wrong.
Once I recovered from the annoyance of seeing the moon in broad daylight, I noticed the slow whorling of a raptor. He was very high up, but I could watch the ends of his wings making minor adjustments as he balanced on the themals. It reminded me of floating on my back in a swimming pool, with my arms extended, and having to tweak my lower arms to keep from rolling over. ( A less majestic an image, I know).
This magnificent bird brought to mind one of the poems 'we did' at school, Gerard Manley Hopkins, 'The Windhover'. I sat and wished I could remember beyond the first two lines. The fabulous thing about the internet is you can get this sort of stuff very quickly, even near the top of a mountain in a forest, so here goes:
I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing.
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing.
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
(....and I thought I was being clever using 'whorl')
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