It’s been quite the week. And I might have taken the Wolf Moon eclipse as my Sunday Weekly poem’s subject matter. But then we had an eclipse at Wolf Moon 2019 and I wrote one then. And I did write a draft of 2020 version, but I figured we might need to mix things up a bit this week.
Or nature might have been my muse. We have had some spectacular skies here this week as a parenthesis to the full moon’s eclipse.
But nah! When you have houseguests you tend to think a lot about menus. So food has been my muse. Also, there is a lot of music being played in the house.
I felt like I needed a day off from my weekend this morning. I slept long and woke groggy and have obliquely crept into the day. I feel satisfied with the poetry workshop I delivered yesterday, despite my little wobble in the morning. Meanwhile, I am still processing what I saw and heard at Uisneach; no poems have cooked up yet there. It was sunny and warm this morning and, miracle of miracles, completely dry! So I thought I would take myself, notebook and pen outdoors to sit on the terrace that overlooks our acre. Sometimes, I find, I need to go and sit with a different view, mix up the times of day slightly. Also, with teaching two to three workshops a week over the next three weeks, I need to find a variation on my formula to fit in writing the Poem a Day for the #PoetryDaily during April’s NaPoWriMo.
What overwhelmed me was the birdsong, so varied in note, pitch, rhythm and melody. It was like a Babel at the birdfeeders and surrounding trees and hedges. I actually videoed a clip of the birdsong that you can view on my Word Alchemy Facebook page. Please do visit, like and comment. It’s public, so you may share,but please do reference my page as a courtesy.
The #PoetryDaily then.
"Could you? Could you?" Bird speak... "ChirpChirpChirrUP!"
How do they figure out the lyrics in bird's melodies? I can't hear those calls as transcribed in bird guides.
But there is certainly a lot of conversation, a Babel at the bird table.
There! I did just get the pheasant's harsh squawk, the wood pidgeon's breathy coo. The rest are 'as Gaelige' to me.
It's a diverse bird republic out there chattering away along with the solitary bee's hum,
all in concert and counterpoint. Is it all improvised? Is all this bird jazz just a prelude to nest and mate?