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Cheerful chirrup above my head,
Bright flashes of yellow and red –
Goldfinch.

Cormorant – perched on a pole,
Alert, erect,
Like a guardsman on duty.

Two proud parents, dressed in white,
Six toddlers, fluffy, grey and cute –
Swans and cygnets.

In the breeze,
Flying, floating,
Dancing, drifting,
Tiny, downy,
tufts of fluff,
Mini-parachutes
Each bearing
A precious package,
A microscopic seed,

Eyes peeled, ears pricked, binoculars at the ready,
We spent a week at Wastor, on the edge of Dartmoor.
The woods were alive with birdsong, dawn till dusk,
So we took up the challenge (as all nature-lovers must)
We made a list!

Trees moan,
Gates creak,
Barns shudder,
Windows rattle.

Breeze-blown clouds
Scud across the blue sky.
The view to Corfe crisp, clean,
Scoured by successive showers.

Crows at low tide, inventive and clever,
Black beaks probing the mud to find
Cockles, whelks, slipper limpets.
They seize the prize, then fly up high
To drop the poor mollusc
Onto the hard tarmac path,
Again and again,
Until the shell finally cracks,
And the crow can enjoy the tasty treasure therein.