And for that minute a blackbird sang…

The Watermill at Posara for painting, knitting, yoga, holidays/vacations, Tuscany, Italy.Our gardener Flavio Terenzoni is very fond of birds and fashioned this little woven haven from willow, bamboo and a small slice of acacia. Beyond it the roses bloom, their pergola leading to the walled garden. We have not enticed a bird to Flavio’s ready-made shelter, but just beyond, deep in the dog roses, a blackbird has made a nest and four eggs laid.

The dawn chorus here is lusty and reminds me of that wonderful poem Adlestrop by Edward Thomas, capturing the essence a Summer day in deepest England:

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

For us, our blackbird sings close by, and round him, softer, calmer, farther and farther, all the birds of Lunigiana and Garfagnana.

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