not all who wander are lost*

What a lovely afternoon I have had, just wandering. Wandering is what I like to do, here, there, anywhere, and I'm fortunate to have a partner who understands my wandering ways :-)

Today I took the binoculars and looked for birds. Behind our house were others doing the same, but filling the whole valley with the noise of their guns. My aim was to make no noise at all. At first there were only rooks, scattered by the gunshots and settling up in the tall trees. Then I was down in the woods by the river and away from it all and I began to see and hear the small birds - a gang of squeaking long-tailed tits, a nuthatch pecking at the moss, a treecreeper jerking up the trunk of a tree. Further on, 7 herons, perched in a field and on a drystone dyke and then taking off in a row above me. And last and most satisfying of all, a goldcrest.

These snowdrops are the first to appear in our garden.

*
“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”
JRRTolkein