Thank you to all who shared your images with us. One of our trustees has kindly compiled a video which we can now share with you. As I am working from home, far from the river, I have loved seeing these photos of the glorious spring we have had.
here is the poem about the heron who frequents the river near the centre
FISHING
The heron stands
motionless, grey, sleek silhouette.
His head turns abruptly.
Suddenly, ungainly, he plunges
into the rushing cold waters, wings outstretched,
belly-flop, but up he comes
victorious with a shining sliver
which flaps and twists, looking for escape.
The master fisherman
sweeps to the river bank.
Two black rooks gather, sentinels,
waiting for the smallest error
from the deft juggler,
who adroitly turns the fish,
aligns and swallows.
I watch a lump descend his neck.
The heron crouches, spreads his wings
and flies upstream, with curved neck and outstretched legs,
reminder of prehistoric Archaeopteryx.
The rooks watch over the now empty spot, cheated of an easy meal,
while a robin sings its sweetness
into the crisp frosty air.
© Barbara Munro
