When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo: O, word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Oh for the days of Shakespeare to come again! Sadly now we rarely hear the Cuckoo in this area, though we are still blessed with the beautiful Cuckoo Flower, also known as Lady's Smock. In the past three years I have heard a Cuckoo on only one occasion that I can remember, and I rue the day when I cursed its repetitive song, a song that started at first light and awoke me every morning. I am an early riser, but the Cuckoo rose too early even for me, and in previous years I had longed for some peace and some sleep. I walked around each day like a zombie while the Cuckoo was present, but I would gladly do that again if only they would grace us with their company.
I used to hear these every spring too, Kerry. Not so often these days.
ReplyDeleteI recently read 'Say Goodbye to the Cuckoo' by Michael McCarthy, about spring migration, and bird decline. A real horror story.
I can hear the cuckoo as I write this. He was cuckooing away at 5am this morning - he sounded like he was just outside my house. I can't imagine spring without the cuckoo!
ReplyDelete