Sitting up in bed this morning at 5.30 a.m.. after listening to the orchestra of thoughts playing in my mind for the last hour.. I abandoned all hope of sleep and turned instead to the Saturday papers that had lain untouched next to the bed...Grabbing the allure of the glossy supplement I turned to an article about migrating birds.. something that has fascinated me, almost subconsciously, since my childhood. I waxed lyrical about Autumn in my last blog post.. as this is a season that I have felt most at home, at peace with, ever since I can remember... and I do remember certain days, years and years ago.. running out in to the dew on the garden lawn and smelling the 'rust' in the air whilst hearing the haunting cry of migrating geese flying over the house.. This sound stirs up strong emotions in me..a sad farewell kind of sound..and one to this day that fills my heart with a reassuring melancholy.
The article that I refer to is in the Telegraph Magazine.. and tucked in between the ads for age defying body lotions and exotic travel.. is a piece of poetry.. a beautifully eloquent homage to these extraordinary creatures... the migratory bird.
The article ' Rites of Passge' is written my Tim Dee who travels on a pilgrimage to Fair Isle ( land of much loved woollen apparel ) where he witnesses the miracle of migration and the arrival of thousands.. nay millions possibly, of these fragile, yet tungsten steel creatures as they stop off on their mammoth journey to warmer climes.. The line that stole my heart was this.. " On a particular day, say September 3, there will be 45 million swallows in the air on their way out of Europe. We are in the middle of it, they fly right through us, but we hardly notice."
We are off for a walk today to savour the last moments of summer as it gently bleeds in to autumn.. I shall turn my head to the skies and say a fond farewell to our feathered friends as they head off for their winter vacation.
Sunday, 13 September 2009
Posted by Cowboys and Custard at 7:43 am