Notes From A Long Sit




I followed a badger trail to a small copse with a canopy of bare branches. There the magpies cackled, blackbirds clucked, chaffinches chatted and the starlings down in the village whistled. 
A worm climbed a tree, perhaps disoriented or proving that determination pays off when it was rewarded with the soft cold moss on the bark. Woodlice busy themselves in the leaf litter and all around life is preparing for the day. 




As I sat I saw Starlings gathering in the trees, chattering as they re-aquainted themselves with the fields after their long journey to the UK to winter here. 
The buzzard mewed its morning call, sending the Rooks into an affronted frenzy of cawing. 
The wind blew it's cold breathe on my face warning me of the winter to come and the sun peeked through the clouds and warmed my soul. 



What a glorious morning for a long sit and today I found a corner which looked out on three fields, a fading beech hedge and a small copse of trees. 
Sat in silence I could hear the whir of tiny wings as great tits and blue tits flew back and forth to the last remaining sunflowers in the field still full of seeds. I heard the chit of the greenfinch and watched it bob across the sky. The arguing rooks, cackling pheasants and dancing insects, all came to greet me! 



As I sat, scanning a cloud soft sky, ears searching for familiar sounds, I saw flocks of starlings and scattering pigeons, heard dumpling Dunnocks, the see saw teetor of Great Tits, the drumming of a woodpecker and squirrels sucking their teeth at each other in the near by tree.
My first long sit of the year. In my spot beneath the waning hawthorn hedge, next to the clematis seed heads, opposite the curling sunflowers of last year, the Dunnocks came so close I could have reached out to them and I discovered squirrels make an odd squelching sound when they are fighting over territory. It's a magical jungle out there! 



I sat in amongst the rain showers today for my not-so-long-sit. I watched the clouds hurry across a patchwork of blue and grey. The rooks complained like broken alarm clocks, the green woodpecker laughed at the stacatto call of the blackbird and somewhere in the woods behind me a chiff chaff, chiff chaffed at the rain. 
In the village smoke rose from the chimneys and the sound of industry echoed up from the valley to complete the symphony of daily sounds. 


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