A pair of Curlews

Recently as I was walking beside our river a pair of Curlews flew right over Moss and me.  It was one of nature’s generous gifts. They were so close I could hear the beat of their wings and see their plumage.   It was thrilling - it literally made my heart leap! 

I’ve always had a soft spot for Curlews, I think based on their physical beauty and their haunting call, (which is mostly heard in winter and has been described as mournful.)  Perhaps it’s their distinctive downwards curving beak that marks them out from the other waders on the river, so that I can confidently identify them - and that makes me feel good.

Moss of course couldn’t give a flying forget-me-not, she was busy charging about on the river bank searching for things to play with.  I was overwhelmed and happy to see them flying as a pair which reminds me that it’s practically Spring, my favourite season.  Imagine a Curlew chick in its egg, would it already have a downward curving beak?

As a youngster I used to find my Father’s enthusiasm for the natural world irritating.  I remember driving with him in a ten-tonne lorry with a maximum speed of 32 mph from Saffron Walden back home to Suffolk, when suddenly he spotted a bird that he didn’t recognise.  He slammed on the brakes, leapt out of the lorry and ran off across a field, leaving me bewildered in the lorry.  I thought he was bonkers, but I’ve never forgotten it. 

Moss doesn’t mind in the least about my enthusiasm for Curlews, my guess is that it would irritate the hell out of The Teenager though.

Illustration: ‘Curlew’ from Coastal Birds by Richard Allen, linocut.

http://richardallenillustrator.com/