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Showing posts with label magpie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magpie. Show all posts

Monday, 15 April 2013

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 11th 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

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Grey - Thematic Photography

When the skies are grey and full of snow again, it was a delight to see Carmi's prompt - somehow I don't think I will match that.

This fellow has the wrong background if he wants to be inconspicuous.

Magpie in the open
Ships at war needed camouflage so why did they pick this colour.

Battleship Grey (1940s)
You may find different shades of grey (not fifty) in all sorts of places.

Cornish Rocks
Water seems to attract boys even if they have a heart of stone,

On the rocks
Finally an ancient place to meditate on a grey winter's day; I refuse to say it is spring.

Fountains Abbey
Now I suggest that you visit Carmi to stroke his dog and see some other shades of grey at Thematic-photographic-237.