I saw upon a winter's day
A bullfinch on a hedgerow spray;
He piped one note.
And since the countryside was mute,
As pure as rain I heard the flute
Of that small throat.
He picked a rotting willow-seed;
He whistled, in his joy to feed,
A whole sweet stave.
His sloe-black head, how shining sleek,
How strong his blunted sooty beak,
His eyes, how brave.
Then boldly down he came to drink
Out of a roadside puddle's brink,
Sp coral-breasted, sturdy, merry,
That I forgave him plum and cherry
Nipped in the bud.
00000000000000by Betty Hughes
I can't find any information about Betty Hughes — anybody knows how she was (is)?
The beautiful bullfinches are coming out of the woods to get fed but it is hard to get close enough to get a decent photo of them.
Both the snow blower and the cultivator are too heavy for me to handle instead I will get a smaller snow blower so I can clear a path from the door to the garage. We have a "snowman" who plows our driveway so I don't have to think of that.
It looks as a moose has got into the raspberry hedges. I found two of the 2 m high poles on the ground and the wires are tangled. I hope the poor animal didn't get hurt. I need to repair it and afterwards I better hang something on the wires — which won't show when it is dark but I think the moose usually move in the wee hours when they hopefully will notice things hanging from the wires.