Winter Views

From my window I watch.

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A big fat woodpigeon alights on a twig

too slight for its weight,

Soft pink and lilac grey, the bird hovers

in constantly balanced readjustments

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As cold January winds bluster around the garden

A bully with no intentions to be so

it throws the trees around, those soft buds,

still in retreat, awaiting their own time.

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Perfect acrobat, allowing wind and twig to move,

pigeon confidence, its ability to balance and fly

basking in the thin sunshine that filters down

only onto this spot in the garden.

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The pigeon has good reason to linger

but watches cautiously above.

There, buzzards are known to circle and hover

though they mostly hunt only carrion.

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Suddenly looking up again, it is gone,

flown off with the ease with which it landed.

And the twig is now restored to its former position,

no longer bowed by the weight of its visitor,

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The wind continues to bounce the trees around.

Then a blue-tit rushes onto the peanut feeder

hanging from our window, and another joins it,

safety in numbers, watching for jays,

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those pink chested predators whose unmistakeable hop

makes them a clown to watch.

But up under the eaves the small birds are safest

insulating with nutty goodness against winters chill.

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The wind parts the clouds further

January sunshine filters down in abundance

Suggesting warmth where there is little

But promises yet to come.

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Further down the garden I see white carpets

As snowdrops increase daily under the trees.

Dotted around in the grass coloured crocus emerge

small jewels of colour, sunbathing also.

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This chair was placed exactly for this,

Such idle moments of joyful watching.

Engaging with winter from comfort and warm

Reminds me I have still jobs to do in the garden

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Before spring finally brings on the rush

And I am once more overwhelmed by natures

Determination to do its own thing

Whilst I attempt to temper it to my own designs.