Snapshots of Tauranga #63 – The Visitor

The dawn chorus, as if serenading, always cheers me along as I reach for the door handle to be amongst it all. It’s a habit I am loath to break and one which drags me back to the here and now if I daydream too long.

One notable difference this week is the presence of a few blackbirds, and one in particular is a constant while I’m in the garden; instead of pitching in and helping, it just loves to sing, serenading me as I move about. While I perhaps are mimicking a flapping clump of cloth, trying to convince said companion that it’s next meal can’t include another worm from our patch of dirt.

Yes, I am inclined to converse with birds that visit while I garden; in return, they sing as we play a game of hop, flap, clap and a few colourful words thrown in for good measure. Still they sing.

Singing is something they love to do, especially in the rain; who knew that a blackbird loved to engage with the rain so musically? I didn’t.

Here are a few words, images from now and around the neighbourhood.

Claiming a spot of garden
shining coat of jet black
in the morning light.
Above an early tumbling monarch
a beak of gold searching
never within reach.
Strutting along the soil
alert and bold.
A sudden stop, a head cocked low
digging his beak into the soil.
As if mimicking as I toil
I flap about to no avail.
Early riser always gets the worm. 

Cover image: The beautiful sacred Kōtare (Kingfisher), and yes, sometimes that is exactly how I feel when a cheeky blackbird visits me while I’m gardening.