Disturbing the Pigeons!
Disturbing the Pigeons!
Disturbing the Pigeons as the she Pheasant’s scatter – out into the midday sun,
An entrance of movement shatters the Autumn still – like a bullet from a gun!
The yellow tinge of seasonal change begins – laying a fading carpet of discarded leaves,
Spilling out in sprays – casting random displays – the cycle of life Mother Nature achieves!
Songbirds come and go in a constant shuffle – decorating the soundscape with delicate song,
Capturing the moment with natural declarations – setting the scene where we all belong!
The Crows and the Pigeons share a tree on the rise – climbing to the top of the hill,
Beyond the south-eastern border – in a scrambled disorder – decisions made of their own free will!
Robin darts and boldly skips from tree to tree – taking advantage of the vantage points of view,
Kicking up fallen leaves under the harlequin Dogwoods – with their bruising-coloured hue!
The Silver Birch slowly dripping golden yellow droplets – sailing the wind to the ground,
The fruit trees nearing the seasonal end of their purpose – where the Apples can still be found!
Plans for ‘Phase Two’ of the pond lining spring into action – clearing the debris back to the bones,
Caressing naked roots with more old Ceremony pages – telling of tales our history owns!
Sculpted into place – with a re-enforcing weave of wiring – in a honeycomb web of holes,
Re-purposing old tent pegs to pin around the periphery – for future offerings of celebrating souls!
We stop for a brief late lunch – with a casual munch – sharing in the headlines of our local news,
I watch a Wasp extracting wood pulp – from the roundhouse door posts – a resource they can use!
Pheasants call as they creep through the undergrowth – drawing attention while hiding away,
Lost in the breeze – as it flows through the trees – introducing a subtle chill to the day!
And so the day moves on – time to mix up a recipe – utilizing the barrow and spade,
The Sculptor under the weather – amidst the leaves and feather – continues his art all hand-made!
Smoothing the surface with a well-directed palm – joining up the form with a pre-determined key,
Levelling out the lining – one mix at a time – following the contours that will forever be!
There are random calls from a shouting Woodpecker – a distinctive vocal travelling the air,
‘Phase Two’ is completed – the barrow gets a wash and brush-up – as usual to be fair!
Robin returns to feast on the white Dogwood berries – offering temptation with a good free meal,
The clouds hide the sun with a subtle grey veil – in a predictably Autumn kind of deal!
We bob under the Apples – as we head for the history gate – with boundary markers and rope,
Running a thread – for the outer Labyrinth hedgerow – embellishing a theory – full of hope!
We pause to watch a Squirrel performing acrobatics – and putting on an energetic show,
Before we continue with an estimate of measurements – of where the hedgerow lines will grow!
Retiring from our duties we clear the decks – with everything put in its rightful place,
With the sculptor’s tools and new storage tins – secured under lock and key – returning all to base!
A lone Dragonfly meanders – as we gather our thoughts – nursing our aches and pains,
Shivering at will – in the cooling late afternoon chill – with the slow encroaching of the rains!
