Ris is ra day!
Satruday 11:06 a.m.
Last night was supposed to be the night, but I had a visitor and since it was my daughter, I couldn't pretend not to be in. But there's no one here now, but little old me! And I don't have to see anyone. And I don't have to go anywhere. I have to feed myself. That's it. What a field day for ra heat!!!
Yeah, it's just me and you, Jack. The masai warriors and the martians have gone. How's the mood, Jack? Quietly confident. Let you know as I go along. But there's going to be a hot time in the old town tonight!
10:42 p.m.
Apple blossom is mainly white. The buds have a bit of red in them. The middle of the blossom has some yellow, but not much, not tonight anyway. Apple blossom clusters together so that the wee tree (really a bit of a bush) seems to be full of blossom and little else is there except the dark bark. Great bark, by the way, shiney. The cluster of apple blossoms is sticking, mainly white, through a curtain of raspberry bushes. These are now entirely green and fresh although a month ago there was no green there really. There were sticks sticking up from the ground. Firm and purposeful sticks, but sticks with last year's heads chopped off: bare sticks.
As you sit on the path down the middle of the allotment, the hut is just on your right. There is a big bush in front and kind of all over it. I do not know what this bush is called, but it has wee yellow flowers on it a little later. So I'm sitting in the middle of the path at the bottom of the allotment near the hut and gazing slightly to the left at the apple blossom cluster poking through the curtain of raspberry stalks.
You're in the middle of the city. You can hear traffic in the background, a kind of distant roaring. If you lift your eyes from the apple blossoms, you will see the curtain of trees after the fence surrounding the allotments, and lining up along a path through Inverleith Park. Because of the leaves appearing on the trees, you cannot see the castle tonight. That's kind of in the middle as the ground seems to dip down in to the pond and, from where you are, the ground then rises up to the Edinburgh skyline from the north. So the castle is in the middle, but you can't see that. I think you can still see Salisbury Crags, maybe not. But you can see some of the skyline and the Pentland hills out there to your right.
A big fat bumblebee lands on the flower in the cluster you are trying to continue to gaze at. This is a joy. It has come so you can look at it. You remember that there are a lot of different kinds of bumble bees, or bees. You didn't really know that, or had forgotten about it, until you had an allotment.
It's rare for me to sit outside the hut, but I did this evening. I knew it would have more distractions than sitting in the hut. I sat on the bag of old newspapers I'd brought to burn. It was a gorgeous evening.
Two weeks ago, I remembered this nest box that I'd been given a year past last Christmas. It was in the hut. I was in a hurry and, looking for anywhere to place it that didn't mean I had to do something, I hung this bird nest box on an old, old nail I saw sticking out of the wall of the hut. One of the distractions is the finch, or tit, or whatever, that comes to this nest box now. I usually only see it's backside as it goes through the wee opening.
A couple of days ago, I was sitting further up the allotment and watching the wind make the bird box shoogle a wee bit. I wondered if the bird box might get blown off.
It was still this evening and I wasn't doing anxiety. The prevailing wind is from the west and the bird box is facing north. The birds found it right off. The sun won't shine in. It must be dry. It looks like a perfect spot, apart from the joe who might sit in the bit before you get to the hut. But it's hanging from an old, old nail. I wish I had taken more care of where I put the bird box. I just wanted it out of the hut. I think there might be sentient beings called finches living there now. I think being on my allotment, at the side of my hut, even on shoogly nail, is still probably a good place to be if you're a finch. Because I slowed down enough to care about you. I didn't before, but I do now. I think it was more like zen being outside the hut on such a nice evening in May, inEdinburgh, at the tail end of a beautiful day. HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B.
Last night was supposed to be the night, but I had a visitor and since it was my daughter, I couldn't pretend not to be in. But there's no one here now, but little old me! And I don't have to see anyone. And I don't have to go anywhere. I have to feed myself. That's it. What a field day for ra heat!!!
Yeah, it's just me and you, Jack. The masai warriors and the martians have gone. How's the mood, Jack? Quietly confident. Let you know as I go along. But there's going to be a hot time in the old town tonight!
10:42 p.m.
Apple blossom is mainly white. The buds have a bit of red in them. The middle of the blossom has some yellow, but not much, not tonight anyway. Apple blossom clusters together so that the wee tree (really a bit of a bush) seems to be full of blossom and little else is there except the dark bark. Great bark, by the way, shiney. The cluster of apple blossoms is sticking, mainly white, through a curtain of raspberry bushes. These are now entirely green and fresh although a month ago there was no green there really. There were sticks sticking up from the ground. Firm and purposeful sticks, but sticks with last year's heads chopped off: bare sticks.
As you sit on the path down the middle of the allotment, the hut is just on your right. There is a big bush in front and kind of all over it. I do not know what this bush is called, but it has wee yellow flowers on it a little later. So I'm sitting in the middle of the path at the bottom of the allotment near the hut and gazing slightly to the left at the apple blossom cluster poking through the curtain of raspberry stalks.
You're in the middle of the city. You can hear traffic in the background, a kind of distant roaring. If you lift your eyes from the apple blossoms, you will see the curtain of trees after the fence surrounding the allotments, and lining up along a path through Inverleith Park. Because of the leaves appearing on the trees, you cannot see the castle tonight. That's kind of in the middle as the ground seems to dip down in to the pond and, from where you are, the ground then rises up to the Edinburgh skyline from the north. So the castle is in the middle, but you can't see that. I think you can still see Salisbury Crags, maybe not. But you can see some of the skyline and the Pentland hills out there to your right.
A big fat bumblebee lands on the flower in the cluster you are trying to continue to gaze at. This is a joy. It has come so you can look at it. You remember that there are a lot of different kinds of bumble bees, or bees. You didn't really know that, or had forgotten about it, until you had an allotment.
It's rare for me to sit outside the hut, but I did this evening. I knew it would have more distractions than sitting in the hut. I sat on the bag of old newspapers I'd brought to burn. It was a gorgeous evening.
Two weeks ago, I remembered this nest box that I'd been given a year past last Christmas. It was in the hut. I was in a hurry and, looking for anywhere to place it that didn't mean I had to do something, I hung this bird nest box on an old, old nail I saw sticking out of the wall of the hut. One of the distractions is the finch, or tit, or whatever, that comes to this nest box now. I usually only see it's backside as it goes through the wee opening.
A couple of days ago, I was sitting further up the allotment and watching the wind make the bird box shoogle a wee bit. I wondered if the bird box might get blown off.
It was still this evening and I wasn't doing anxiety. The prevailing wind is from the west and the bird box is facing north. The birds found it right off. The sun won't shine in. It must be dry. It looks like a perfect spot, apart from the joe who might sit in the bit before you get to the hut. But it's hanging from an old, old nail. I wish I had taken more care of where I put the bird box. I just wanted it out of the hut. I think there might be sentient beings called finches living there now. I think being on my allotment, at the side of my hut, even on shoogly nail, is still probably a good place to be if you're a finch. Because I slowed down enough to care about you. I didn't before, but I do now. I think it was more like zen being outside the hut on such a nice evening in May, inEdinburgh, at the tail end of a beautiful day. HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B.
posted by Hotboy at 11:10 AM
1 Comments:
HB - could you wait for the parent(s) to fly away then bung in another nail to be sure? But then I suppose there's always on parent on duty.
Alternatively, if the box will only rock but not fall down, the birds must be used to living in swaying houses.
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