A-Z Challenge 2013 - 'T' - Tulips

My A-Z posts this year are based on my garden – flowers, animals, the birds and the bees, butterflies - with a bit of poetry thrown in. For some letters I am expecting to cheat somewhat –wishing they were here.

T – Tulips, Thrush, Thistle, Treecreeper

Our tulips have no association with Amsterdam, unless the bulbs, at some time long in the past, came from there.

Tulips

 No longer shy, as days grow longer,

Raising their heads

They begin to flirt

Tulips dressed in many a color

Breezes swirling

Each floral skirt

The songsters’ battle has been joined between the blackbird and the thrush; this fellow is very melodious.

 

Song Thrush

Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush

That overhung a mole-hill large and round,

I heard from morn to morn a merry thrush

Sing hymns to sunrise, and I drank the sound

With joy; …

When I see any form of thistle in the garden I must confess I root it out and dispatch it to the compost heap. In the country however I always admire one like these.

 

Spear Thistles

Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men

Thistles spike the summer air

And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.

The spear thistle is famous as the emblem of Scottish Kings. 

Just before Easter I spent nearly an hour trying to photograph a rare visitor to our garden, last seen in December 2010. The verse that follows could not be more apt; I did not succeed.

 

Treecreeper

Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear

They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near

Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side

Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.

 

Poems:

• Spring Flowers – Tulips – Mary Havran
• The Thrush’s Nest – John Clare
• Thistles – Ted Hughes
• Treecreepers – Francis Duggan

Photo:

• Common Treecreeper – Wikipedia Commons; CC BY-SA 3.0

 

A-Z Challenge 2013 - 'M'

My A-Z posts this year are based on my garden – flowers, animals, the birds and the bees, butterflies - with a bit of poetry thrown in. For some letters I am expecting to cheat somewhat – a sort of wish they were here.

M – Mahonia, Michaelmas Daisy, Magpie, Mallard, Moorhen

The mahonia bush we inherited in the front garden when we moved into our house over 20 years ago stands about three feet tall. At this time of year it shows a flower head like this:

Mahonia

Those buds develop into berries later in the year. Which bird takes a liking to them we do not know; something must because a second shrub has appeared in the garden at the back of the house.

Later in the year some daisies grow,

Michaelmas Daisies

Lilac and blue, the daisies nurse now
Quiet suns in a centre of petals.

You always know when there is mischief afoot when you hear these birds; their raucous noise sounds just like the House of Commons at PM’s Question Time – no wonder the collective name for a group of them is a parliament. We see a pair regularly now but it has not reached the stage when they are mobbed by other birds frightened for their young.

Magpie

One for sorrow,

Two for mirth,

Three for a wedding,

And four for death

This rhyme, first recorded around 1780, has its origins in superstitions connected with magpies. The magpie was considered a bird of ill omen in some cultures, and in Britain, at least as far back as the early sixteenth century

A bird that overflies us often is the  mallard. We even see them in the corner of a waterlogged field

Mallard Ducks

It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond
Of a puddle or pond.
When it dines it sups,
It bottoms ups.

Mallards occur on my golf course at Billingham. There is a pond on the 11^th hole to which this verse could well apply:

In Spring in pond in grove by the old streamlet amongst the reeds the moorhen built her nest

A bulky mass just above the water level of flags and long dried grass the material she liked best

Moorhen

 But when it comes to dogs some take exception to being given a bath after rolling in deer droppings. Just to show who is in charge she dries off in the dirtiest spot she can find.

Maxie sulking

Poems:

• The Moorhen Pond – Francis Dugan
• Michaelmas Daisies – Ronald ‘Chalky’ White
• Mallard Duck – Albert Aunchman