Wednesday, June 12, 2024
I trudged along muddy paths to the shallow pools and puddles where dragonflies patrol in the summer - but I was jumping the gun as usual, and there was nothing to see yet. A golden eagle soared above a distant ridge, and a sika deer melted quietly into the shadow of the forest without its earsplitting shriek. I could hear song thrush, chaffinch, blackbird, goldcrest, blackcap, and wren - but they weren't singing with real conviction, and one by one they fell silent. Then came some lovely fluting "cuckoos" from somewhere nearby. As I walked back to the car a second bird started up - and I thought I also heard the brief call of a female. One of the male birds flew onto a bare branch, where it perched for a while against the backdrop of Sail Mhor.
A small bird on a lower branch was bothered by the presence of the cuckoo; they took off together, and watching them as they flew out of sight brought to mind Shakespeare's most famous stage direction [Exit, pursued by a bear.] Except in this case the pursuer was a chaffinch.
