WOODLAND and BEYOND

We have been feeding the birds every winter, from October through to the end of April, for some years now. This year we made the decision to feed them throughout the summer months too with one exception, no peanuts. We feed them on a small amount of softened cous-cous, prepared by pouring hot water over the grain and leaving it to absorb, swell and cool, until cold.

©MRL2017

Our local woodland

©MRL2017
Our four footed neighbours

©MRL2017
A fledgling, speckled like a thrush.

We’ve enjoyed watching the parent birds feeding their young and the odd looking fledglings, who are very different in looks to the adults. 

One bird, who feeds on the windowsill, looks like a dark thrush and yet the parent looks like a  blackbird complete with a yellow beak.

Is this a young blackbird, I wonder, or is it something different, a cuckoo perhaps ? 

Is there an ornithologist or a twitcher reading this blog who could help ?

©MRL2017
Same fellow beak wide open expecting food.

This summer we have seen more birds than previous years and noticed a lot of different varieties too. Some that we have been able to identify and others that we were unable to put a name to.

I think that the rising temperatures and change of climate may very well have attracted a wider range of species to Ireland.

©MRL2017

© MRL 2017
Same handsome fledgling

One photograph that I have never taken is an image of Mrs H feeding and conversing with her feathered friends as I would never disturb those private moments when she communes with nature.

How do you commune with nature ?

Beyond the Hedges

My walk today took me in a different direction, to locations that my eyes have seen often

not always from the angle that I now show here.

This old uninhabited and neglected farmhouse with

it's grassed over yard and rusted gate promotes questions

to which I have no answers.

In this small lush field graze cattle with lovely straight backs.

There is a proliferation of Dog Roses this year.

Another old farmhouse again uninhabited, it's buildings though are still used.

A junction where three roads meet, each with equal right of way.

Look at the sky and you will see clouds seemingly rising above the trees.

This old home hidden behind the foliage looks well cared for surrounded as it is by trees.

I am told that the occupiers are rather eccentric and it is rumoured that the woman of 

the house Bean an tí talks to the faeries.

GOOD NEIGHBOURS

These Lads are our nearest neighbours, we see them on opening the curtains in the morning and throughout the day. They are quiet unobtrusive fellows who apart from grazing the lush green pasture only raise their heads to stare at our comings and goings.


It is rumoured that they are grazing on holy ground, for there is said to have been an ancient oratory that once stood on the rise of this field. I fancy that it was long ago and probably made of wood for there is nothing to be seen now. Nothing, not even an indentation on the ground remains, just a sense of peacefulness.


Many rumours surround my old home and I was told when moving here that there was gold buried behind the cottage. What they didn't say was how far behind.
I think it would have to be many miles away, in the nearest town; although on digging once, I did find some yellowed old bones of an animal - probably of an ass.


There are of course 'the good people' who wander around just before dusk and at times they can be quite active. A bottle of whisky went missing once when we had a party that went on for two days in the back garden.
We had laid down the drink in the long grass to keep it in a place of safety away from the dancers and frolickers and there it stayed for two nights along with a bottle of cider.
In the morning only the cider remained...... 'they' know what they like best you see.

Domestic Bliss

Midnight - Cats asleep © Llwyd 2015

The ginger female cat called Squeaky is 9yrs old and our black cat, Magic,

 is twelve years of age. The photo is slightly out of focus because 

I wasn’t wearing my spectacles.

I think it is time for a change of topic, as you all must be getting fairly bored with the ever tiresome politics of our world.


Snow is falling fast, to melt as soon as it touches the ground, small birds are at the feeders pecking at peanuts and a dozen others including robins, are on the path all stoking up on cous- cous.
Ms H was telling me this morning that in the back garden we now have
an almost resident hen pheasant who feeds there regularly along with a friendly thrush and jovial blackbirds.


In the field opposite, the ever wise yearlings/store cattle have taken temporary shelter under hedge and as soon as the storm abates they will return to strip grazing the pasture.


Inside: our forty year old Stanley cooker fuelled by Bord na Mona brickettes is giving out lots of heat and the Caframo fan is spinning madly away sending waves of hot air all around the room. 
Nevertheless I have on my old Malin-Head fleece sitting on top of an equally old denim shirt. I do appreciate the gentle warmth of 20C in the centuries old kitchen which is now our sitting room. 

Time now to put the kettle on for a pot of tea for two, why not step inside and join us? Don’t forget to bring biscuits.