28 Comments

Beautiful, Sam.

Hen harriers - we call them norther harriers here - are plentiful on our island. I see one occasionally from the deck, flying so low that I'm looking down on his back.

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Aren’t they beautiful? I always gasp a little when I see the pale male quartering the long grass. Good numbers here too but, as you’ll know, badly persecuted on the mainland despite the law protecting them.

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One of my favorites. I'm glad we're free of gamekeepers. Did you know the male can have as many as five females with nests on the go at the same time? Competition between them for the food the male brings back means that they'll even leave the nest and fly out to meet him. She'll fly upside down beneath him so he can drop the meal into her grasp.

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Oh to see that moment!

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Really enjoyed this post 🙏

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Thank you Anthony!

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"I remember that ‘place’ is not a container any more than the permeable body." This is a wonderful line, Sam.

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Welcome home, Sam, and thanks for bringing us with you on your walk. I feel the peace and wildness.

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You are so very welcome Josie!

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“I remember that ‘place’ is not a container any more than the permeable body.” Beautiful.

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Thank you Maria.

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With your beautiful description, I feel as though I am there, walking with you.

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Better get your winter thermals on then, Paul! 🥶

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I already have them on. We had about 3” of snow, and we expected single-digit lows here in middle Tennessee 🥶

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Oooh, now that’s chilly! Stay cosy!

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I will! You do the same.

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Beautifully felt and said, Samantha. And yes, above all I wish you a continuing peace.

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Thank you Ronnie. The wind today had been relentless so no clifftop walks for me!

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What a lovely way to celebrate your return. Beautiful writing.

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Thank you Richard, it’s good to be home.

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Thank you for these calm peaceful thoughts as you return home.

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😊

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Your lines about the war dead lying under the sea remind me of one of my favorite poets:

So down we lay again. "I wonder,

Will the world ever saner be,"

Said one, "than when He sent us under

In our indifferent century!"

And many a skeleton shook his head.

"Instead of preaching forty year,"

My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,

"I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer."

Again the guns disturbed the hour,

Roaring their readiness to avenge,

As far inland as Stourton Tower.

And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge.

-- Thomas Hardy, "Channel Firing" (1914)

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Baird, I always appreciate the links you make and the ideas you share. Hardy’s poetry deserves to be much better known. Thank you for sharing this poem.

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I enjoy your writing so much, I want to return a bit of the favor!

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A wonderful feeling of being there - thank you!

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A beautiful meditation, Samantha, and wonderful photos.

The ghosts of Scapa Flow are indeed a reminder of the wider world and the madness of war. We need more sane voices - such as your own.

No-one needs another war.

Everyone needs a peace. A peace on each other and a peace on our planet itself. An armistice on climate. A healing on the environment.....

Best Wishes - Dave

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