As you all know, these occasional nature notes are brought to us by a whole panoply of nature-noters from all over the UK, even including Flintshire , but not, of course, Greater Manchester. This tranch of whimsical autumnal musings comes from our Southern Counties correspondent, Sweetie Pie. NATURE NOTES by Sweetie Pie How I love these autumnal afternoons in my tiny, dinky-winky 7-acre garden, with the falling autumnal leaves swirling past me into their winter resting-places, where they will, in the fullness of time, become, once again, part of the wonderful world of Mother Nature's Amazing Cycle Of Being. I'm sure all my dear readers will do the same. And amongst the darling, fallen leaves I glimpse the shy, retiring Snowy Owl, which, as you all know, sifts through autumnal swathes of multicoloured, dazzlingly polychromatic iridescent newly-descended abandoned leaves looking for gentle, kindly, dinky, whimsical nature writers like myself who like nothing better than to pretend, if only for a few fleeting hours, that they are at one with Mother Nature's eternal cycles of being . I'm sure that all my readers will do the same. Ah, here's one of my gardeners,Basil, assiduously cutting the lawn with a pair of nail scissors ..it's so so important not to hurt any of the tiny creatures of the lawn with their little legs and everything. They've also got a pair of little antonys on their heads which they depend on when they start to migrate to Hyde Park for the winter as well. I hope that all of my dear readers will do the same. Some people say I'm rather twee but I am simply being ME! Oh how I love the shiny rook that lingers in the inglenook his silver beak glows 'midst the gloom that fills my sweetie-kins bedroom. I love the dinky-winky flowers and stare at them for hours and hours I wish that I was one of them I'd have a lovely slender stem and petals nodding in the breeze which saunters 'tween the lovely trees. Tomorrow, until half past ten I'm going to be a Jenny Wren and after that, a Turtle Dove till comes the dusk, when I just love to turn into a Firecrest and slip inside its tiny nest. I know that you, dear readers wish like her you could be but there's no room for all of you in the halfwit heirarchy ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And as for the music, here's the remarkable Joanna Newsom ... " Sadie" .... it was re-reading the words to this song that got me having a gentle go at those people who "sweetie-pie" the world that birds etc inhabit. It's a mild dig at them, but the point is, I hope, made...... Sadie, white coat, you carry me home
And bury this bone and take this pine cone Bury this bone to gnaw on it later Gnawing on the telephone Until then, we pray and suspend The notion that these lives do never end And all day long we talk about mercy Lead me to water, Lord, I sure am thirsty Down in the ditch where I nearly served you Up in the clouds where he almost heard you And all that we built and all that we breathed And all that we split, or pulled up like weeds Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably And we spoke up in turns 'til the silence crept over me And bless you, and I deeply do No longer resolute, oh and I call to you But the water go so cold And you do lose what you don't hold This is an old song, these are old blues And this is not my tune, but it's mine to use And the seabirds where the fear once grew Will flock with a fury and they will bury what'd come for you And down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender You and I, and a love so tender Stretched on a hoop where I stitched this adage: "Bless our house and its heart so savage" And all that I want, and all that I need And all that I've got is scattered like seed And all that I knew is moving away from me And all that I know is blowing like tumbleweed And the mealy worms in the brine will burn In a salty pyre among the fauns and ferns And the love we hold, and the love we spurn Will never grow cold, only taciturn And I'll tell you tomorrow Sadie, go on home now And bless those who've sickened below And bless us who have chosen so And all that I've got and all that I need I tie in a knot and I lay at your feet And I have not forgot, but a silence crept over me So dig up your bone, exhume your pine cone, my Sadie
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AuthorThat's the author up there ... I was young and sprightly then. Archives
October 2022
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