By John Clare
The wild duck startles like a sudden thought,
And heron slow as if it might be caught.
The flopping crows on weary wings go by
And grey beard jackdaws noising as they fly.
The crowds of starnels whizz and hurry by,
And darken like a clod the evening sky.
The larks like thunder rise and suthy round,
Then drop and nestle in the stubble ground.
The wild swan hurries hight and noises loud
With white neck peering to the evening cloud.
The weary rooks to distant woods are gone.
With lengths of tail the magpie winnows on
To neighbouring tree, and leaves the distant crow
While small birds nestle in the edge below.
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Apart from being overcast all day, so yet again we couldn't see the northern lights, I had a nice Wednesday. All my high school friends made it to chat, and younger son's wife and one of her sisters (and many pets) visited as well, so that was a lovely morning, and after lunch, Kristen, Laurie, and I watched some more of the extended Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. Paul and I walked to the beach so late in the afternoon that we got to see a beaver swimming around the beach.
We had veggie burgers for dinner, watched the second episode of Pluribus -- engrossing but what I was expecting -- then saw Secrets of the Dead: Picturing Shakespeare on PBS, in which the science of examining the Wadlow painting is more interesting than the problem of proving the unprovable. Now we're watching Freakier Friday mostly for Jamie Lee Curtis, though first we watched the LEGO Frozen: Operation Puffins, which is a short delight. Waterfowl and other birds enjoying autumn:
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