The superabundance of nature in the spring-time takes our breath away as we see new beauty unfolding on all sides. Every field, wood, hedgerow and garden erupting into fresh green. In G.M.Hopkins’ words it is ‘all in a rush with richness‘. We are bewildered by the profusion.
Continue reading “The Superabundance of Spring”
Sing on sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
Sing on sweet bird, listen to thy strain,
And aged winter, mid his early reign,
At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow.’
Robert Burns
The other day (Feb 1st ) I was sitting indoors when I heard a sound for which I am always waiting at this time of year. Opening the window, there it was, loud and clear, crisp and melodious—unmistakably the first Song Thrush—right on cue, singing its heart out claiming a territory for itself. It’s my favourite songbird, especially because it is the first bird to sing. It gives us so much pleasure by its beautiful solo performance – a herald of the dawn chorus to come, causing ‘aged winter to clear his furrowed brow’.
