TheBanyanTree: Little Trotty Wagtail

[John Bailey]

Thursday September 11, 2003

LITTLE TROTTY WAGTAIL

The front lawn is quiet after the crows leave for the day having taken 
their breakfast of fallen acorns. Then a pair of pied wagtails (see: 
<http://www.garden-birds.co.uk/piedwagtail.htm>) take over and spend hours 
trawling the grass for insect life, especially those hapless creatures that 
fall from the oak tree in search of a safe place down in the grass roots in 
which to over-winter. These are lovely little birds, cheerful, and never 
still. Their song is not overly musical but has a comforting, 
undemonstrative British garden nature, not gaudy or showy in any way. They 
are a joy to watch, and I never for a moment grudge the time they steal.

When they first came to the garden, at the end of May, I think it was, they 
had a late fledgling with them. He would sit in the centre of the grass, 
gaping and gawping, while the parent birds rushed back and forth to find 
nourishing grubs and suitable insects to stuff down his throat. Such was 
their energy and enthusiasm for the task that sometimes I thought he'd 
burst at the seams. He grew visibly under their care and one day he flew 
off, never to return. I was considerably relieved for the parents' sake, 
and glad to see them begin to relax a little and to get the benefit of the 
food they found for themselves.

This afternoon one of the male birds flew up to the front upstairs window 
where I was looking out and hovered hummingbird style in front of me for a 
moment, for all the world as if he was looking in at me. He was so close 
that, had I the speed and the inclination, I could have reached out and 
plucked him from the air. Instead, we exchanged gazes before he 
straightened and tilted his wings and swooped back down to the grass. It'd 
be too much to say we exchanged good wishes, too, but I can only speak for 
myself. I think he has a deal of generosity in his nature, judging by the 
way he trots over to his mate to present her with any specially juicy bug 
he may find, so perhaps he wishes me well, too. Intentional or not, the 
pair of them bring me morsels of joy time and time again every day.

The title for today? Comes from a poem by John Clare:


         LITTLE TROTTY WAGTAIL

         Little Trotty Wagtail he went in the rain
         And twittering, tottering sideways he ne'er got straight again,
         He stooped to get a worm and looked up to get a fly,
         And then he flew away ere his feathers they were dry.

         Little Trotty Wagtail he waddled in the mud,
         And left his little footmarks, trample where he would.
         He waddled in the water pudge and waggle went his tail,
         And chirrupt up his wings to dry upon the garden rail.

         Little Trotty Wagtail, you nimble all about,
         And in the dimpling waterpudge you waddle in and out;
         Your home is nigh at hand and in the warm pig stye,
         So, little Master Wagtail, I'll bid you a goodbye.

         --John Clare (1793-1864)



--
John Bailey   Carmarthenshire, Wales
journal of a writing man
<http://www.oldgreypoet.com>