impromptu visitors

 Amazing sighting this afternoon as I was minding my own business.

There, on the last day of B(ritish) S(ummer) T(ime), among decay and rotten leaves, they invaded my own  garden. Not one or two, but five or six, attracted by the golden jewels of October,  they came to perch and tear out red… To them, the larder was Thor-sent. I reckon they might have escaped the harshness of winter’s grip on their own land. They packed their ambition under their  wings and crossed the sea like explorers in search of gold and other bounties, juice or mead…

waxwings are like Vikings,

they come from the East/NE across the wild North Sea (or Norwegian Sea for what we know…) in their cohorts and  invade your neck of the heather without shame; terrorise the locals (i.e. sparrows & starlings that never asked for blood or strife) – pick on your most treasured high autumn possessions (in my case here, my bundle of ruby rose hips that have come to maturity) and loot the lot! Their bills act like pick axes and they won’t leave until they finish off their feast… They come with mighty impressive markings too – take a look at their black masks and bibs – that array of rufous edge around their bills – that ferocious white eyeliner to remind you who’s looking at you in the eye and fluffy crown synonym with Erik The Red… (without the helmet, that is.) So I thought twice before I dared and opened the window to point my longest lens out in low light. In the mayhem, my felines fled through the cat flap,  attracted by the invaders’ fierce cries. They did not wait for fur & claws to get at them, as they hovered above rose hips, in between stone wall that guards my neighbour’s long(er) house and their trees.  That’s when everything went quiet…

Now that night came, I wonder where my warriors went roosting. Did they assault the nearby community garden, where sycamores harbour starlings? Did they empty the walled garden and ousted robins and sparrows? For all I know, I’m left with heavily torn rose hips. Another saga unfolding…

P.S: If Per Kåre and/or any member from the NYBAKK Clan – or any Norskie friend and/or reader come across this particular post, well… Skål!!! 

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Filed under 2012, 60N, birds, geopoetics, home, images, north, shetland, spirit, winter, world, writing

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