"Every atom in your body was once inside a star that exploded ... Over the course of the history of our galaxy, about 200 million stars have exploded. These myriad stars sacrificed themselves, if you wish, so that one day you could be born." -- so writes Lawrence M. Krauss in his book 'A Universe from Nothing'. Maybe the stars are not so indifferent after all, Susie. 💛
That is a thought to ponder, keep safe and ponder again dear Fotini... I must look up this book and read more, "These myriad stars sacrificed themselves, if you wish, so that one day you could be born." I love this thought... the uniqueness of each of us bursting from a star... 💫xx
I'm so glad to know that others consider our world, our lives from the perspective of the stars and come to the conclusion that all the things we worry and fuss about don't matter. For some reason, I find that conclusion calming.
I try hard to remember this always Sarah, when I consider the enormity of this planet and the universe she sits in, it is indeed calming to know that the gigantic 'outer-space' filled with more stars than we can even imagine are twinkling and fading, thousands of light years before we even know of their existence, it makes me feel like a very tiny, insignificant particle and my problems even tinier...
Thank you so much for you thoughtful comment - my apologies for the delay in responding, we have a much needed Indian summer happening and I don't want to miss a second! 💛
So lovely!! I love thinking of your writing as being windswept - that feels right - so breezy and ethereal, with blurred edges and a whole BUNCH of Beauty. XO
Danielle your comments always make me smile lovely lady, even belatedly so, my apologies. I am on my autumn break (thinking I'd have all the time in the world for prompt replies...)and of course dear MN has been so generous with her gifts of sunny days, I have spent each and every second possible outside catching up on September!
Today is no exception, the sun is shining and I am windswept in soft breezes from the south and enjoying the feeling... the beauty is almost overwhelming.
Thank you always for being here, do you get to have a half term break? If so I hope its as beautiful as mine ! xoxo
I don't blame you one bit for soaking up as much of the beautiful outdoor fall days that you can, before they are gone! I am delighted you are spending your half term break doing just that.
This time of year can be very overwhelming because it is so lovely!!
We do not get a half term break. Conference week was last week, so we get four days of school where the kids are released early each day, at 11:45, then we can get some work done in the classroom, after they are gone. We do get a few days around Thanksgiving, but our first break is not until winter, when we get two weeks. And I'll have two weeks off my college classes as well, so I'm going to be sleeping in and lounging recklessly. 🤭 XO
My life has changed for the better since I started reading your writing Susie, because it gives a kind of narrative to my experience in nature that I had never been able to put words to, before. Hope that makes sense!
You know, if there is one aspect of this writing business I would highlight every time for the sheer power of their inspiration, it is when somebody says something (anything) I have written has had an effect on their life and the way they look at nature. It doesn't even really matter if its a good effect or a bad effect, although the former is preferable I guess, just to know that something I have written is being read and digested deeply enough for an effect to happen. It's the biggest compliment anyone could pay me.
All that to say, you've made my day, in fact you've made my whole time on Substack worth while with your comment - massively tearful thanks with love xxx
I believe she is a Red Backed Shrike. Probably juvenile. May she bring you seatherny when she finally sings. And when she does, you might just feel aviothic ( the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly) to join her. Ok, I just flunked out trying to use your new word in a sentence. And I found one I’ve never heard of before, but failed miserably in intelligent usage. Just can’t get them to flow off my tongue. Now I know how my dog feels when a put peanut butter on the roof of his mouth.
Here is a link to check it the Female ( or juvenile)Red Backed Shrike.
She is indeed a Red Backed Shrike and yes definitely a juvenile! Thank you Lor, Alex said the same thing below but I doubted it because on searching for images they all looked too large... but your link confirms my question absolutely. Interestingly, they are quite rare here, in fact this is the first Ive ever seen, hence the question... sadly, since writing of her she is departed for warmer climes, I hope she has a safe journey. Lor, that was no flunk, you've just added yet another word to my internal dictionary, 'aviothic' from aviation I imagine or avian is wonderful, I will use that somewhere too, perhaps when I am wishing to be 'aliferous' like an angel...
Sending gentle autumn hugs your way...x
PS I actually love the feeling of peanut butter on the roof of my mouth!
“As if all the star dust from the ark of galaxies we spin within has fallen and landed on my skin. Star dust prickles.” A gorgeous truth, Susie. Together, lost in thought with you. As I have been known to do throughout the years, I will turn to ‘my poet’(our) who always soothes when I have no answers of my own.
"The Star Splitter" by Robert Frost (an excerpt) “You know Orion always comes up sideways. Throwing a leg up over our fence of mountains, And rising on his hands, he looks in on me Busy outdoors by lantern-light with something I should have done by daylight, and indeed, After the ground is frozen, I should have done Before it froze, and a gust flings a handful Of waste leaves at my smoky lantern chimney To make fun of my way of doing things, Or else fun of Orion's having caught me.”
On Looking Up By
Chance at the Constellations by Robert Frost
“You'll wait a long, long time for anything much To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud. The planets seem to interfere in their curves But nothing ever happens, no harm is done. We may as well go patiently on with our life, And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane. It is true the longest drout will end in rain, The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break On his particular time and personal sight. That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.
Lor, thank you for the reminder of this poem, how I had forgotten it I don't know because I remember studying "On Looking Up By Chance at the Constellations" in college, it was the first poem I'd ever read of Robert Frost. And, of course, from there my love grew... why didn't I think of it while writing? The effects of the star dust possibly, or that I'm reading so much more in ageing than I ever used to (which was already a lot) that poems and words and quotes are beginning, in old(er) age to tangle themselves into a knotted mass? Whichever the case may be, thank you for untangling this one from the melange! The pertinence of his words here is astounding, the futility of waiting for answers from the stars... Im smiling, and yet will I stop? Probably not....
"Wars are being fought over slivers of land, hatred passed down through generations over eons and eons. When measured against the silence of the stars it seems so futile."
what isn't futile, Susie... is the Art you sing from your hill 💚
Love and star dust right back at you Susie. Such a beautiful gathering of moments. That bird with no voice... heart breaks. No doubt he will be talking to you and finding companionship with you in his own way. 💛
I hope so Jo, I have never come across or even heard of a bird that doesn't make a sound... I feel like she needs a protective friend! I have whispered my desire to be that friend, I just hope she hears me.
Thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments 💛xx
The more I write here, the more touched and moved I become Barrie, almost as if making these notes is giving clearer vision or insight into every tiny mystery hidden within a vast world of nature I never even know existed before... curiouser and curiouser the deep I delve!
I can't be anything but kind to this true and gentle man who has nobody left in his world, it breaks me completely that this is the case, it feels like a great unfairness.
And yes, mithering... isn't that a wonderful northern word!
I’m still wondering how the combine made it into the fields, I imagine you are too Susie! I found myself wondering if it was a new combine this year, or if you must watch that huge machine delicately manoeuvre past your home every year at harvest? I wish you a fizzless week, where the stardust settles without effervescence and you can enjoy coffee with your fading friend Roger, with peace in your heart 💛✨
This is the first year any field beyond our home, not accessible by a different route, has been planted with maize Emily, but you have a point, unless he travelled across land from a different farmers fields, which they sometimes do, the harvester must have at some point during the day squeezed through that tiny passage at an earlier time. I hadn't thought of that, which is rather typical of my somewhat illogical (never-ending fizzy) thinking at the moment.😂 I'm trying to get used to it just in case its a permanent fixture of age... it certainly gives many different meanings to my day/week/life !! I hope you have a brighter day than we do lovely - thank you for your kind comment 💛xx
Fizzy. What a description. I sometimes feel that uncontrollable internal something that is only dispelled through walking or exercise or time in solitude. I hope the fizziness has dissipation.
Thanks for the shout out. You have added another wonderful word from your own cabinet here: Seatherny. This is fantastic.
You do a great kindness in spending time with Roger.
You're so welcome, I loved your shared post on beautiful words enormously. I found Seatherny whilst looking for something to describe a bird with no voice, I was diverted entirely by the beauty of it.
I am beginning to acclimatise Nathan, it comes and goes but fizzy looks like its here to stay! Let's call it an age thing... either I accept it or I fight it, ordinarily I would take on the latter but given the 'age thing' the former seems the more sensible option... my horns are blunt and brittle - enough said, but damn I'm cross!
I am just about to leave to see Roger again... his needs are many and my only sadness is that I cannot be there for all - at 90, almost 91 he deserves so much more.
Thanks lovely, my little unidentified bird still has no voice, I am more and more certain something is wrong... Roger is as well as a 91 year old man can be, its just so very sad to see him fade, which he is... 😔 I hope the week is being kind to you Lisha xx
Star dust prickles. I will tuck this away and reframe my own “fizzies” next time they pass through. It’s never comfortable to experience the buzz of mental activity, anxieties, too much to do, but zooming out into the cosmos to remember that all energy has origin in starlight is strangely comforting. Similar to the quietness I feel when, as you so beautifully share, “They have seen it all before—civilisations rise and fall, species come and go—and still, they remain untouched, distant, as if our struggles are no more than whispers in an endless void. We are so very small.” Our insignificance is a balm to the madness of productivity. I wish I could join you and your friend in the blurry truth of our being for a cup of tea. ❤️
Kimberly, more than you know, I wish too, that a few moments could be shared over tea with you in the company of Roger, perhaps it might be prudent (selfishly, for my benefit - for he is already is so graciously accepting of his lessening future) to invite Chloe Hope to join us. I am not at ease... and I know, both of you in your infinite wisdoms of life I would be so much more so...
In trying to give this strangeness a feeling uniquely tied to nature I make myself feel less susceptible to the real issue of ageing, parts of my body not reacting in the way I know. It is time to hold the reality however - I am no longer young - mould it in a way that is acceptable and if that means fizzing when I'm still, so be it. I will take comfort in that, that I am capable of feeling star dust is still a gift, even if it feels different now.
But, when I think of all the stars have witnessed I want to feel calmed by the notion that none of this is new to them, instead I feel such a huge weight of sadness and reluctant acceptance that we just don't learn... that we never have and never will.
We are small and yet we have been the cause of great goods in those eons of generations, many forgotten now while we strive for better, bigger, faster, more high tech connected everything, I want to shout STOP, can't you see we've come far enough?
Perhaps I need to search with a more open mind for that comfort you speak of so beautifully. I will try...
About to fall asleep here, but just to put you out of your bird ID misery, I'm pretty sure that's a red-backed shrike, although it seems a bit late in the season! We had a lot in Portugal when we lived there.
I shall catch up properly tomorrow, hopefully. And thank you, for sharing these little vignettes, each is powerful in its own way.
Thanks Alex, and thank you for your bird ID although I thought a shrike quite a large bird? This is more the size of a robin or a finch of some type, except it is longer and finer - I have searched and searched and can't find anything even remotely similar... although Im no expert on bird species so it could well be (and most likely is) something quite common - especially at this time of year when so many other birds have fled to warmer climes.
I hope your day has been a glorious as mine... we seem to be having a mini Indian summer after all!
When we were in Portugal, I did a lot of research on similar photos of shrikes, which was why I was so sure! (I’ve seen your other reply now, however!)
I think the younger birds often trail behind their parents, especially if it has been a tough year for them (as I suspect this wet, cold late summer has) and, especially, if they are insectivores or, in this case, carnivores. For such a small bird, they have a ferocious reputation (which is why I, too, thought they were much larger).
We’ve had some sunshine, but back to fog and murk today. That said, my chilli plants are still outside, so it can’t be that cold yet! Off to Lyon at the weekend and hoping that the park is open this time, as it was shut due to wind and weather when last we tried… Fingers crossed!
I think you're right Alex, my apologies for doubting... I looked up images for a female shrike and still couldn't find anything that looked quite right but Lor just sent me a link which fits perfectly - its definitely a young female shrike - albeit with no voice bless her!
No worries! I think it is healthy to doubt and question, that way the answers usually stick around longer!
As far as her voice goes, they really aren’t the most melodic, most of the time! there’s a reason shrike and shriek share the same etymological old English root!! Still, I find them birds full of character, and I was very grateful for the ability to get to know them when we lived in the Alentejo.
It really is quite a shriek isn't it... I googled it ! Perhaps I should be grateful mine doesn't or hasn't learned to sing yet! ;-)I will be looking out for them next spring though, I am presuming they are now gone, she hasn't been back since I posted... I feel a bit sad now I know what she was.
It really is a shriek! I suspect yours is already well on its way, now, heading over to Turkey, then down over the middle east to eastern Africa, which always fills me with a sense of wonder.
Come spring, however, you’ve got that shrieking delight to look forward to—the landscape where you are is certainly perfect shrike habitat. Keep an eye on your thorn bushes too!
I was reading about them! There is blackthorn all over the hill, Im already excited for next spring. She is more then certainly gone, I haven’t seen her for days now…
"Every atom in your body was once inside a star that exploded ... Over the course of the history of our galaxy, about 200 million stars have exploded. These myriad stars sacrificed themselves, if you wish, so that one day you could be born." -- so writes Lawrence M. Krauss in his book 'A Universe from Nothing'. Maybe the stars are not so indifferent after all, Susie. 💛
That is a thought to ponder, keep safe and ponder again dear Fotini... I must look up this book and read more, "These myriad stars sacrificed themselves, if you wish, so that one day you could be born." I love this thought... the uniqueness of each of us bursting from a star... 💫xx
I'm so glad to know that others consider our world, our lives from the perspective of the stars and come to the conclusion that all the things we worry and fuss about don't matter. For some reason, I find that conclusion calming.
I try hard to remember this always Sarah, when I consider the enormity of this planet and the universe she sits in, it is indeed calming to know that the gigantic 'outer-space' filled with more stars than we can even imagine are twinkling and fading, thousands of light years before we even know of their existence, it makes me feel like a very tiny, insignificant particle and my problems even tinier...
Thank you so much for you thoughtful comment - my apologies for the delay in responding, we have a much needed Indian summer happening and I don't want to miss a second! 💛
So lovely!! I love thinking of your writing as being windswept - that feels right - so breezy and ethereal, with blurred edges and a whole BUNCH of Beauty. XO
Danielle your comments always make me smile lovely lady, even belatedly so, my apologies. I am on my autumn break (thinking I'd have all the time in the world for prompt replies...)and of course dear MN has been so generous with her gifts of sunny days, I have spent each and every second possible outside catching up on September!
Today is no exception, the sun is shining and I am windswept in soft breezes from the south and enjoying the feeling... the beauty is almost overwhelming.
Thank you always for being here, do you get to have a half term break? If so I hope its as beautiful as mine ! xoxo
Awww...thank you!
I don't blame you one bit for soaking up as much of the beautiful outdoor fall days that you can, before they are gone! I am delighted you are spending your half term break doing just that.
This time of year can be very overwhelming because it is so lovely!!
We do not get a half term break. Conference week was last week, so we get four days of school where the kids are released early each day, at 11:45, then we can get some work done in the classroom, after they are gone. We do get a few days around Thanksgiving, but our first break is not until winter, when we get two weeks. And I'll have two weeks off my college classes as well, so I'm going to be sleeping in and lounging recklessly. 🤭 XO
My life has changed for the better since I started reading your writing Susie, because it gives a kind of narrative to my experience in nature that I had never been able to put words to, before. Hope that makes sense!
You know, if there is one aspect of this writing business I would highlight every time for the sheer power of their inspiration, it is when somebody says something (anything) I have written has had an effect on their life and the way they look at nature. It doesn't even really matter if its a good effect or a bad effect, although the former is preferable I guess, just to know that something I have written is being read and digested deeply enough for an effect to happen. It's the biggest compliment anyone could pay me.
All that to say, you've made my day, in fact you've made my whole time on Substack worth while with your comment - massively tearful thanks with love xxx
It’s a great effect!
🙏🏼
I agree with Alexander C.
I believe she is a Red Backed Shrike. Probably juvenile. May she bring you seatherny when she finally sings. And when she does, you might just feel aviothic ( the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly) to join her. Ok, I just flunked out trying to use your new word in a sentence. And I found one I’ve never heard of before, but failed miserably in intelligent usage. Just can’t get them to flow off my tongue. Now I know how my dog feels when a put peanut butter on the roof of his mouth.
Here is a link to check it the Female ( or juvenile)Red Backed Shrike.
https://www.oiseaux-birds.com/card-red-backed-shrike.html
She is indeed a Red Backed Shrike and yes definitely a juvenile! Thank you Lor, Alex said the same thing below but I doubted it because on searching for images they all looked too large... but your link confirms my question absolutely. Interestingly, they are quite rare here, in fact this is the first Ive ever seen, hence the question... sadly, since writing of her she is departed for warmer climes, I hope she has a safe journey. Lor, that was no flunk, you've just added yet another word to my internal dictionary, 'aviothic' from aviation I imagine or avian is wonderful, I will use that somewhere too, perhaps when I am wishing to be 'aliferous' like an angel...
Sending gentle autumn hugs your way...x
PS I actually love the feeling of peanut butter on the roof of my mouth!
“As if all the star dust from the ark of galaxies we spin within has fallen and landed on my skin. Star dust prickles.” A gorgeous truth, Susie. Together, lost in thought with you. As I have been known to do throughout the years, I will turn to ‘my poet’(our) who always soothes when I have no answers of my own.
"The Star Splitter" by Robert Frost (an excerpt) “You know Orion always comes up sideways. Throwing a leg up over our fence of mountains, And rising on his hands, he looks in on me Busy outdoors by lantern-light with something I should have done by daylight, and indeed, After the ground is frozen, I should have done Before it froze, and a gust flings a handful Of waste leaves at my smoky lantern chimney To make fun of my way of doing things, Or else fun of Orion's having caught me.”
On Looking Up By
Chance at the Constellations by Robert Frost
“You'll wait a long, long time for anything much To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch, Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud. The planets seem to interfere in their curves But nothing ever happens, no harm is done. We may as well go patiently on with our life, And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane. It is true the longest drout will end in rain, The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break On his particular time and personal sight. That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.
Lor, thank you for the reminder of this poem, how I had forgotten it I don't know because I remember studying "On Looking Up By Chance at the Constellations" in college, it was the first poem I'd ever read of Robert Frost. And, of course, from there my love grew... why didn't I think of it while writing? The effects of the star dust possibly, or that I'm reading so much more in ageing than I ever used to (which was already a lot) that poems and words and quotes are beginning, in old(er) age to tangle themselves into a knotted mass? Whichever the case may be, thank you for untangling this one from the melange! The pertinence of his words here is astounding, the futility of waiting for answers from the stars... Im smiling, and yet will I stop? Probably not....
"Wars are being fought over slivers of land, hatred passed down through generations over eons and eons. When measured against the silence of the stars it seems so futile."
what isn't futile, Susie... is the Art you sing from your hill 💚
Together we are strong Darren, I thank you for being here to listen 💛
Love and star dust right back at you Susie. Such a beautiful gathering of moments. That bird with no voice... heart breaks. No doubt he will be talking to you and finding companionship with you in his own way. 💛
I hope so Jo, I have never come across or even heard of a bird that doesn't make a sound... I feel like she needs a protective friend! I have whispered my desire to be that friend, I just hope she hears me.
Thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments 💛xx
I am touched by your Nature Notes, as ever, Susie … and moved by your kindness to Roger. Also ‘mithering’ … a favourite word of mine.
The more I write here, the more touched and moved I become Barrie, almost as if making these notes is giving clearer vision or insight into every tiny mystery hidden within a vast world of nature I never even know existed before... curiouser and curiouser the deep I delve!
I can't be anything but kind to this true and gentle man who has nobody left in his world, it breaks me completely that this is the case, it feels like a great unfairness.
And yes, mithering... isn't that a wonderful northern word!
I’m still wondering how the combine made it into the fields, I imagine you are too Susie! I found myself wondering if it was a new combine this year, or if you must watch that huge machine delicately manoeuvre past your home every year at harvest? I wish you a fizzless week, where the stardust settles without effervescence and you can enjoy coffee with your fading friend Roger, with peace in your heart 💛✨
This is the first year any field beyond our home, not accessible by a different route, has been planted with maize Emily, but you have a point, unless he travelled across land from a different farmers fields, which they sometimes do, the harvester must have at some point during the day squeezed through that tiny passage at an earlier time. I hadn't thought of that, which is rather typical of my somewhat illogical (never-ending fizzy) thinking at the moment.😂 I'm trying to get used to it just in case its a permanent fixture of age... it certainly gives many different meanings to my day/week/life !! I hope you have a brighter day than we do lovely - thank you for your kind comment 💛xx
Gorgeous words, Susie.
Fizzy. What a description. I sometimes feel that uncontrollable internal something that is only dispelled through walking or exercise or time in solitude. I hope the fizziness has dissipation.
Thanks for the shout out. You have added another wonderful word from your own cabinet here: Seatherny. This is fantastic.
You do a great kindness in spending time with Roger.
You're so welcome, I loved your shared post on beautiful words enormously. I found Seatherny whilst looking for something to describe a bird with no voice, I was diverted entirely by the beauty of it.
I am beginning to acclimatise Nathan, it comes and goes but fizzy looks like its here to stay! Let's call it an age thing... either I accept it or I fight it, ordinarily I would take on the latter but given the 'age thing' the former seems the more sensible option... my horns are blunt and brittle - enough said, but damn I'm cross!
I am just about to leave to see Roger again... his needs are many and my only sadness is that I cannot be there for all - at 90, almost 91 he deserves so much more.
Oh that poor tiny bird! I hope it is able to find its voice again. And Roger. I hope he is well.
Thanks lovely, my little unidentified bird still has no voice, I am more and more certain something is wrong... Roger is as well as a 91 year old man can be, its just so very sad to see him fade, which he is... 😔 I hope the week is being kind to you Lisha xx
Beautiful! I have a hidden owl as well. Very sneaky.
Thanks a million - they're just too damn clever aren't they!
Star dust prickles. I will tuck this away and reframe my own “fizzies” next time they pass through. It’s never comfortable to experience the buzz of mental activity, anxieties, too much to do, but zooming out into the cosmos to remember that all energy has origin in starlight is strangely comforting. Similar to the quietness I feel when, as you so beautifully share, “They have seen it all before—civilisations rise and fall, species come and go—and still, they remain untouched, distant, as if our struggles are no more than whispers in an endless void. We are so very small.” Our insignificance is a balm to the madness of productivity. I wish I could join you and your friend in the blurry truth of our being for a cup of tea. ❤️
Kimberly, more than you know, I wish too, that a few moments could be shared over tea with you in the company of Roger, perhaps it might be prudent (selfishly, for my benefit - for he is already is so graciously accepting of his lessening future) to invite Chloe Hope to join us. I am not at ease... and I know, both of you in your infinite wisdoms of life I would be so much more so...
In trying to give this strangeness a feeling uniquely tied to nature I make myself feel less susceptible to the real issue of ageing, parts of my body not reacting in the way I know. It is time to hold the reality however - I am no longer young - mould it in a way that is acceptable and if that means fizzing when I'm still, so be it. I will take comfort in that, that I am capable of feeling star dust is still a gift, even if it feels different now.
But, when I think of all the stars have witnessed I want to feel calmed by the notion that none of this is new to them, instead I feel such a huge weight of sadness and reluctant acceptance that we just don't learn... that we never have and never will.
We are small and yet we have been the cause of great goods in those eons of generations, many forgotten now while we strive for better, bigger, faster, more high tech connected everything, I want to shout STOP, can't you see we've come far enough?
Perhaps I need to search with a more open mind for that comfort you speak of so beautifully. I will try...
Always with love beautiful soul - thank you xxx
About to fall asleep here, but just to put you out of your bird ID misery, I'm pretty sure that's a red-backed shrike, although it seems a bit late in the season! We had a lot in Portugal when we lived there.
I shall catch up properly tomorrow, hopefully. And thank you, for sharing these little vignettes, each is powerful in its own way.
Thanks Alex, and thank you for your bird ID although I thought a shrike quite a large bird? This is more the size of a robin or a finch of some type, except it is longer and finer - I have searched and searched and can't find anything even remotely similar... although Im no expert on bird species so it could well be (and most likely is) something quite common - especially at this time of year when so many other birds have fled to warmer climes.
I hope your day has been a glorious as mine... we seem to be having a mini Indian summer after all!
When we were in Portugal, I did a lot of research on similar photos of shrikes, which was why I was so sure! (I’ve seen your other reply now, however!)
I think the younger birds often trail behind their parents, especially if it has been a tough year for them (as I suspect this wet, cold late summer has) and, especially, if they are insectivores or, in this case, carnivores. For such a small bird, they have a ferocious reputation (which is why I, too, thought they were much larger).
We’ve had some sunshine, but back to fog and murk today. That said, my chilli plants are still outside, so it can’t be that cold yet! Off to Lyon at the weekend and hoping that the park is open this time, as it was shut due to wind and weather when last we tried… Fingers crossed!
(I should have said 'juvenile female' : Lanius collurio, but I'm sleepy! Sorry!)
I think you're right Alex, my apologies for doubting... I looked up images for a female shrike and still couldn't find anything that looked quite right but Lor just sent me a link which fits perfectly - its definitely a young female shrike - albeit with no voice bless her!
No worries! I think it is healthy to doubt and question, that way the answers usually stick around longer!
As far as her voice goes, they really aren’t the most melodic, most of the time! there’s a reason shrike and shriek share the same etymological old English root!! Still, I find them birds full of character, and I was very grateful for the ability to get to know them when we lived in the Alentejo.
It really is quite a shriek isn't it... I googled it ! Perhaps I should be grateful mine doesn't or hasn't learned to sing yet! ;-)I will be looking out for them next spring though, I am presuming they are now gone, she hasn't been back since I posted... I feel a bit sad now I know what she was.
It really is a shriek! I suspect yours is already well on its way, now, heading over to Turkey, then down over the middle east to eastern Africa, which always fills me with a sense of wonder.
Come spring, however, you’ve got that shrieking delight to look forward to—the landscape where you are is certainly perfect shrike habitat. Keep an eye on your thorn bushes too!
I was reading about them! There is blackthorn all over the hill, Im already excited for next spring. She is more then certainly gone, I haven’t seen her for days now…
Beautifully written, thanks so much for the lovely mention.
It was all my pleasure Felicity, your paintings are so very beautiful... 💛