My dear feathered friend
Fearlessly hops towards me
crumbs around my feet.
You grace me with your presence
Posing with patience.
Kind, gentle spirit
Onyx eyes piercing my soul
Song cossets my heart.
©Annika Perry, April 2021
My dear feathered friend
Fearlessly hops towards me
crumbs around my feet.
You grace me with your presence
Posing with patience.
Kind, gentle spirit
Onyx eyes piercing my soul
Song cossets my heart.
©Annika Perry, April 2021
Why restrict oneself to only one walk at a time? When two are far more exciting!
As I stride out into my neighbourhood through woods and fields I’m simultaneously traversing the path of an ancient wall 300 miles north and 2000 thousand years in the past.
Nearer to home is a beautiful lake, over a mile long and created when the gardens of the local Hall were designed in the middle of the 18th Century.
The Hall itself was host to such prestigious guests as Elizabeth I and her grand retinue in the 1500s as well as King Louis XVIII. Along with his wife and courtiers the party numbered over 350 people and they resided at the Hall between 1807-1809 after King Louis XVIII fled the French Revolution.
Nowadays the Hall with its Elizabethan and Georgian aspects is a beautiful wedding venue.
I’m further immersed in history on my second walk, this time a virtual one as part of The Conqueror Challenge, which involves a fabulous 90 miles following Hadrian’s Wall.
Hadrian’s Wall is a UNESCO World Heritage Site located in the north of England and the hike starts off at Wallsend near River Tyne not far from the North Sea and finishes at Bowness-on-Solway near the Irish Sea.
Hadrian’s Wall was built by the Romans in AD 122 by order of Emperor Hadrian and it was the north-west frontier of the empire for over 300 hundred years.
The landscape is breathtaking and along the 73 miles of the wall, much which is alas not in existence, there are fascinating fort remains to explore!
At home I’m still standing by the lake, soaking up the serenity of the winter peace. During the rest of the year, the 35 acres site is bustling with people and particularly with water skiers, both of national and international competitive standard, including a young man who was in my son’s class at primary school.
Just up the road is the local church and one has existed on the site since 1190. It was built by Audrey De Vere, 3rd Earl of Oxford during the reign of Richard I (The Lionheart).
The current church was established in 1435 and looks very much the same now as it did nearly 700 years ago. It is incredible to think that the church registers go back without a break to 1539.
As I leave the church, my walk along Hadrian’s Wall continues and I pause for a while at Homesteads to explore the ruins of ancient Roman military site. At this vantage point, the panoramic views stretch 360 degrees across the stunning countryside and show exactly why the Romans would have chosen this location for the fort. Amongst the ruins, I happen to see the oldest toilet in England!
Following a couple of months of bleak, damp and bitterly cold weather I needed an incentive to set out for daily treks. The inclination was rather low at the thought of walking through the same familiar routes and thankfully I came across The Conqueror Challenge on various blogs to encourage me out every day!
These challenges vary from the extreme to more moderate and Hadrian’s Wall looked just ideal for my first attempt at the challenge.
An app on the phone handily allows me to track my progress as well as seeing my location in 3D on StreetView. Along the way four postcards are emailed to me packed with information and for every 20% completed a tree is planted! Participants of the challenges have ensured more than 450,000 trees have been planted since August 2020. Furthermore, I look forward to receiving a medal upon completion of the walk – I can’t remember if I have ever received one before!
To finish my post I would like to briefly mention a very special man on who passed away on 2nd February 2021.
Sir Captain Tom Moore raised our spirits in 2020 with his warm, kind and positive nature and utter determination and true Yorkshire grit in his own particular charity fundraiser. Born in Keighley, West Yorkshire (a town close to where I grew up), he served in India and Burma during WWII.
Sir Captain Tom shot to fame as he aimed to raise a £1000 for the NHS by walking a lap of his garden on each of the 100 days leading up to his 100 birthday on 30th April 2020. To say he smashed the amount he hoped to raise is an understatement. He raised over £33 million for the NHS Charities Together, an incredible feat for one individual. He gave us all hope and inspiration when it was so sorely needed proving that the human spirit can prevail when so much feels lost.
As the flag at my local church flew at half-mast in his memory, the song ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ which Sir Captain Tom Moore recorded with Michael Ball played on loop in my head. It rightly became a number one hit in the U.K. in April 2020.
Here is it for you all!
Mystic blue embraces all,
Giving thanks for peace.
Lone tree, spirit strong
Bedecked with icy jewels
Awaiting warm Spring.
Walks have always been an integral part of my life; since my youngest days I recall clambering over the rocks out on the islands in Sweden, scampering through the forests.
Moving to Yorkshire as a young girl the stunning beauty of the moors became the background to my days out. I revelled in trips out into the wilderness, losing myself in bracken taller than my young self, walking along the ridge of the moors where the heather meets the sky, gazing down upon the miniature stone buildings of the villages below. They seemed inconsequential compared to the might of nature.
This strangest of years has seen walks featuring more than ever in my life – this time though restricted to those from my doorstep. As soon as the stay-at-home order was issued in March, the U.K. experienced weeks of warm sunny weather and it was a blessing to head out for an hour a day then perfect to sit and enjoy the beauty of the garden.
In the last five months, I have covered (according to my phone app pedometer) over five hundred miles, discovering new routes, creating new ones. At times it felt like ground-hog day; wasn’t I only by this gate yesterday, this oak tree surely is wondering why it’s suddenly become so popular? Yet the walks and their vistas proved a tonic each and every time, always something refreshing to sparkle the heart and mind, particularly as the times of the outings varied from day to day.
In March the days were chilly, a bite of winter in the wind, the fields barren and mud-ladened. I realised for the first time I would come to know in detail the surrounding landscape, the fields planted, harvested, the lakes full of clear water, then green with algae as summer arrived.
As August comes to an end a carpet of leaves forms a soft bed for my feet as I wander through the nature reserve; Autumn seems to have arrived earlier than ever. Already the fields are busy with their winter crop, the flowers almost all over and instead we spend the walks idling by the hedgerows, filling tubs with the juiciest of blackberries.
When restrictions were slightly eased we headed out with excited anticipation to Marks Hall Arboretum and Gardens and as only members were allowed we relished having the place mostly to ourselves. (You may recall an earlier post about Marks Hall and its Sculpture Exhibition entitled Creative Energy )
I couldn’t stop smiling as we wandered through new landscape, new views, drinking up the sights with sheer joy. The lakes were lush with fish, geese gazed warily at us, standing like sentinels over their young.
A Bug hotel caught my eye and I was only too happy and oblige by adding some leaves and sticks to the creation.
Peacocks never fail to enthral me and in spite of the lack of visitors over so many months, they were as still friendly and unbothered by us humans.
It was with childish joy I encountered ferns on a far-flung part of the estate. Reaching up I could barely touch the tops of them. Hooray! They were still taller than me!
Up ahead I glimpsed an ethereal sight, the wonder of the white trunks of eucalyptus trees beckoned me, like angel wings amongst the darkness of the other trees. Their bark was smooth and soft, I stroked it as if a pet, relishing in the unusual texture. I picked a leaf or two, inhaling the fresh exotic fragrance. I might not have physically travelled far but my imagination was halfway around the globe!
Bugs galore have graced us with their presence, and I’m sure they were always here. Was that a withered leaf on the bathroom floor? No, the most amazing of moths, which I think is called the Angle Shades. The shiniest of red in contrast to the black caught my attention with one bug, which I believe is the cinnabar moth. One lunchtime an admiral butterfly landed on my mother’s hat!
Our garden has been a solace and haven to me, more than ever! In the mornings I’ve had the time to greet the plants, stopped in my tracks in awe of the intricate details of the flowers and their petals.
I even say a quick shy hello to our resident troll tree … can you spot it in the acacia below.
It is invigorating to tend to the plants, bushes and trees, then afterwards enjoy relaxation and rest surrounded by the beauty of nature.
Finally, I often have a song ‘playing’ in a loop in my mind as I stride out across the countryside and since writing this review one particularly has stayed in my mind – it’s especially relevant as I worked out the miles walked these months. I first heard it as the soundtrack to one of my favourite films ‘Benny & Joon’. Enjoy the snippets of the film as you listen to ‘I Would Walk 500 Miles’ by The Proclaimers!
“Without habit, the beauty of the world would overwhelm us. We’d pass out every time we saw — actually saw — a flower.”
“Imagine if we only got to see a cumulonimbus cloud or Cassiopeia or a snowfall once a century: there’d be pandemonium in the streets.”
“People would lie by the thousands in the fields on their back.”
From ‘Four Seasons in Rome’ by Anthony Doerr.
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After hours, days, weeks,
My body and mind in constant turmoil,
I find myself enjoying the warmth of the sun.
Lunch time sandwiches finished, I sit back.
The silence deafening.
My ears ringing.
No cars, no voices
No planes, no lawnmowers.
The world stopped.
Only now are we learning to cease.
To recall that we can think, feel.
Be one with nature.
In the loudness of nothing
I hear the buzz of a dozy bee
Just waking to a world
It thinks is the same
A constant cracking noise has my head swivelling
Where is it coming from?
I notice a blue tit on the seeds
With infinite peace, nibbling the inner goodness,
Cracking, cracking them open
To reveal the heart.
I move my legs and startle the bird.
In this moment a whoosh of spirit overcomes me.
With intense clarity.
I hear the flap of the wings.
A light breeze wafts through the lilac tree
And in the process picks up my spirit
Sends it along the path of the departing bird.
A spirit that floats with oneness of the nature surrounding me.
A peace of such infinity overwhelms me,
I look back and see myself on the wooden chair.
Should I fly on, should I return?
The me looks a bit confused, lost, serene.
A bundle of emotions … I look forward,
Reminding myself never to forget
Reminding myself never to fear.
I drift back, re-joined, re-coupled.
An epic ephemeral epiphany.
Spring’s breeze strokes my cheek
Star flower heralds warm days
Storm warning – keep safe!
These past few days have been the sunniest for months and numerous walks in woods, along the coast, inspired me to write the haiku above.
Spring is so close, almost tangible, yet the threat of the latest tempest this weekend returns us to the winter gloom. Before Storm Ciara, a severe gale, coursed its way across the UK we headed outside enjoying the glory of nature to the utmost. Soon enough we needed to retreat indoors to the cosiness of home.
Out on the daily meditations, I remember that not only Mother Nature can lift us high, music also has a sublime ability to reach our inner core.
One piece that recently touched me so is a piano cover by Sammy Perry of Odesza’s song ‘A Moment Apart’. It is one of Sammy’s favourite songs from their album.
Listening to this my spirits soar. I imagine spring, life itself, unfurling. It is peaceful, magical and inspirational. Enjoy!
It must be in the genes, or at least that is my excuse! For appointments, I will arrive early and not just by a few minutes. Twenty minutes ahead of time is standard for me, leaving me kicking my heels, scanning signposts, flicking through tattered waiting room magazines. It’s a trait that frustrates my son, yet one that I’ve instilled in him with perfection! When my mother is with us, the early arrival time exponentially increases! This was just the case one summer morning when we turned up nearly an hour before the trip departure.
This time the waiting was heavenly; standing on the quay, watching the fishing boats return with their catch, the sun wrapping its warmth gently around us, heralding another blistering day ahead! An idyllic morning in Grebbestad on the West Coast of Sweden.
Our ride for the day was already in, its wooden deck beckoning us aboard. M/S Donalda was a large fishing boat from 1926 and later converted to a charter boat traversing the beautiful archipelago. We scanned the seats of the boat, wondering which was the most comfortable, which would give us the best view. We need not have worried!
The sights were pure magic as we slowly eased out of the harbour and along the coastline. Early bathers were on the rocks, a few sleepy strollers ambled on the walkways. The sea was a milk pond of glittering crystals; painful to stare at yet my eyes were drawn to the sparkles of life.
Our destination was Väderöarna – the Weather Islands! These consist of a few hundred islands and rocky islets in the Skagerrak and are located less than an hours sailing from the mainland. Interestingly it has one of the warmest and windiest climates in Sweden and was inhabited from 1700 until the 1960s by coast pilots and their families.
My eyes continuously studied the sea and islands. Camouflaged on the grey/pink rocks we spotted seals languidly sunbathing, at one with the solid foundation beneath them. A gentle joyful ‘aww’ rippled along the boat.
Next to me, a couple seemed more equipped for a spy operation than a summer outing, wrestling with ease their giant binoculars and camera. My initial scepticism of their kit turned to slight envy as they viewed the birdlife flittering around us. Seagulls of course, yet so much more. Terns graced us with their presence and we watched in awe.
I drifted in and out of the informative commentary; at one with my thoughts as the past merged with the present to a new harmony within me. The sense of freedom was indescribable.
The journey continued with just the odd swell. I was thankful not to experience the terrifying winter storms that face the fishermen when waves can reach heights over ten metres. On stormy nights, I often think of my family members who are out at sea.
Yet, at the name, Ingrid Bergman, I tuned in once more. Famous years before my birth, her films featured regularly at home and I grew to appreciate her warmth, flair and skill. Yet far from the world of fiction she sought sanctuary on a deserted island called Danholmen. Incredible to believe that this Hollywood star’s summer retreat was visible from the boat. It was easy to see the attraction of what she described as: “So lonely. Huge skies, immense seas. An island full of enormous rounded boulders and little coves – the sea everywhere. In the summer, everything so bright and shining – sea and rocks and sky. And such a feeling of isolation.”
The Weather Islands greeted us with peaceful ambience, its stillness contagious. We all disembarked with quiet reverence on the main island of Storö (Big Island). A day of exploration awaited us but first refreshments beckoned at the one and only restaurant/hotel.
Hours later my soul was satiated with the beauty of these wonderful islands; my eyes were like windmills, moving back and forth to absorb the breathtaking views around me, promising to never forget, to let the profound tranquillity remain within me. I will return!
The first time I met myself was a few years ago. Once again this Easter, after a day of travelling, I arrived at last at the houses in the midst of the forest. And there I was! As if I’d never been away! A disconcerting sensation, a time-shifting eclipse. As if my conscious self in the UK had been switched off, just as the awareness of my Swedish self powered on.
It was as if I’d walked this gravel road every day, not just for the two weeks over Easter. One spectacular afternoon I witnessed the sun searing through the trees.
The forest itself proved startlingly alive, alluring; the air brimming with oxygen, the colours clear and vibrant. Certain events, unknown to my Swedish self, reminded me that I had not been there after all. When did the big fir tree topple down? Or rather break away as a neighbour later pointed out, the top half cracking away from the main trunk, to land neatly in the birch copse.
By the coast the combination of sea, sky and rocks struck me anew, the views intoxicating, like a punch of joy to my heart. My other self had let me down, let me forget this body blow of beauty.
The blues all around were broken up by the array of colours of the rocks, the stark trees, the dainty flowers growing in the granite cracks.
Here and there people had contributed to the enjoyment with a sense of fun creating a child’s seat set amongst the rocks.
The two weeks were filled with overwhelming joy, laughter, conversation. Where walks transformed into meditations, where books became all-consuming, where thoughts sought and found clarity in the vastness of nature.
How could life be anything but this?
Yet I return home … my other home, to my other self. Yet the one in Sweden clings on to my spirit, not quite ready to release me from its hold, my soul swooping amongst the trees, across the waters.
I am here, yet there. I’ll never forget standing on the deck on Good Friday, gazing at the full moon in all-consuming awe of epiphany. The pink aura transported across space to minuscule us! The magic of the cosmos captured in a finite second. There am I, part of the wilderness, here am I, longing to return.
“We carry our homes within us, which enables us to fly.” John Cage
* “may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living.”
I’m neither a twitcher nor even an avid bird-watcher, yet I delight in the aviary activity in the garden as well as out and about in nature!
Whilst enjoying a break on the swing bench it’s a joy to see the birds flying with precision and speed to the feeder, some darting back and forth for a quick nibble, whilst others hog the stand for minutes at an end.
In the woods other birds swoop between the trees, their calls echoing around the neighbourhood.
Travelling abroad is always a revelation and this is true for the birds encountered. I will never forget the spectacle in Florida of pelicans flying eye-level past the balcony on numerous occasions, almost within touching distance. The sense of awe was phenomenal.
In today’s world the natural environment competes with digital elements of our lives. We seem increasingly time poor as screens easily win the battle for our attention. It would be a bleak and empty future if the wonder of nature and animals is lost to the latest generation.
In an attempt to combat this possibility, Denzil Walton has written a book to share his knowledge and experience of bird watching with children. Encourage a Child to Watch Birds is written for adults caring for children and gives advice on how to tempt children away from their screens to the outside world. In this first of a series of Encourage a Child the author begins by showing adult how to best bring the world of birds alive for children.
At first I was slightly sceptical. Surely it is just a matter of heading out and pointing at the birds! I could not be more wrong!
The book is highly informative, detailed and well-written. It is aimed for children from seven to twelve years old, however I feel it is relevant for both younger and older age groups. To be honest, I have found lots of helpful information for myself and made notes for future reference. Whilst the book concentrates on birdlife in Western Europe there are also many references to birds in America and Australia.
The book teaches us the difference between merely looking at birds and watching them with real engagement. The explanations are clear whilst still detailed. The format is easy to read and absorb, with sections broken up with a summary list of suggested questions to ask the child. There are ten chapters in all which progress from the basic bird watching, to feeding, caring, closer viewing through binoculars, taking notes etc. Later in the book various excellent project ideas are described and there are some for all age groups. In addition the personal anecdotes makes this a highly engaging and approachable book.
The information within the book includes the best viewing places, such as observing a swan from a bridge which allows the young person “to be able to see the swan’s large webbed feet, frantically paddling away, while on top the swan looks perfectly serene and calm.” Furthermore, Denzil Walton advices adults to teach children to “use mnemonics to memorise bird songs and calls.” The book explains the difference between bird calls and bird songs and suggest that listening to these will help children appreciate classical music such as Vaughn Williams’ The Lark Ascending.
The writer’s in-depth knowledge is superb and gives us nuggets of fascinating information. This ranges from becoming involved in bird census counts (the RSPB one in the UK has over half a million members) to learning the interesting fact that peregrine falcons reach speeds of 150 mph as they fly to knock another bird out of the sky! Furthermore I learned how to buy the best bird book and how to choose the right pair of binoculars. A quick hint, it’s not all about magnification!
The book helpfully includes a link to Encourage A Child website where there are many other numerous resources. I must hasten to add, the irony is not lost to the author of an ebook and website to encourage young people outside … I would argue that internet research is both unavoidable and imperative in today’s world.
Encourage a Child to Watch Birds is great aid and inspiration for all those looking after children with wonderful suggestions for appreciating bird life and I believe that not only parents, grandparents will find this extremely helpful but also nursery and school teachers etc. My only quibble is the lack images of birds, which I appreciate may be down to copyright, cost issues. However, as a result of reading the book I was inspired to print out lots of images myself from the internet for reference!
Watching birds is a wonderful and relaxing break from our busy and hectic lives and I’m confident that Denzil Walton’s wish to help give a child ‘resilience for stress later in life’ will be fulfilled through this book.
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Note: I received the book from the author in exchange for an honest review.
Finally, I’d like to share a short video of bird life in my garden, centred around a couple of the feeders. Enjoy!
“A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.” Chinese proverb.
The photos are all by myself from my garden apart from the first one which is courtesy of pixaby.com.