Monday, March 9, 2009


by: Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

A sunny shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted:
And poised therein a bird so bold -
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted!
He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he troll'd
Within that shaft of sunny mist;
His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
All else of amethyst!
And thus he sang: 'Adieu adieu!
Love's dreams prove seldom true.
The blossoms, they make no delay:
The sparkling dew-drops will not stay.
Sweet month of May,
We must away;
Far, far away!
To-day! to-day!'

I don't think it was an eagle in Coleridge's prose but I saw one of our wedge-tail eagles just now, hovering above, looking so tiny way up there. A couple of weeks ago we saw one coming from the smoke to safety; flying so slowly, as if it had no energy left. Our magpies were attacking it as if saying, 'go away, this is our territory'. It landed in a paddock opposite; it was huge and these little magpies, in comparison, were relentless. It took off again, travelling so slowly into the distance.....

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