Poem 481 – The Chiffchaff

Apr 10, 2025Nov 26, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

‘What’s that?’ she asked abruptly,
pointing to the smallest
bird perched in the tree
beside us.

I almost missed it listening
to the sound resounding
all around me, loud
and laughing.

This Irish lilt, melodic
song that filled the air,
composers answering
each other.

But then I saw it fill its
chest, open its beak,
and sing and sing and sing,
so merry!

This little fellow was the
author of the song
that brought such joy, we can’t
stop smiling!

This afternoon we took a post lunch walk around Lea Valley and saw a chiffchaff in the tree beside us. Their loud and laughing song always makes me smile. I was surprised to discover that the source of this big sound is such a small bird! I thought I’d try and capture something of its bouncy song in the form of this poem. If you don’t know what they sound like listen to this: https://youtu.be/we0bA5POyzU?si=etmckMGRQWKkPgjL
(10.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Andrey Strizhkov on Unsplash

Poem 465 – An Avian Revival

Mar 25, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

We sit outside, enjoying Spring’s fresh sun,
sharing a cup of tea and conversation.
The heavens’ freshness is invigorating,
shining light into wearied Winter limbs.

We aren’t the only ones awakened by
the afternoon’s blue opportunity;
the sky swells with ranks of choristers,
alert, their chests puffed out with jubilant song.

Performing bass, the racket of the rooks erupts,
joining the tree-born tenor pigeons’ coos.
Insistent great tits drill their alto beats, as
greenfinch glissandos trill in soprano splendour.

At the finale’s final flourish we file
out of the garden, aware that we’ve been treated
by a most marvellous rendition of this
anarchic avian anthem. We applaud.

Yesterday afternoon, I sat outside with my parents, ensuring the weather and the glorious birdsong.
(25.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Svetozar Cenisev on Unsplash

Poem 462 – Missing

Mar 22, 2025Nov 25, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

All was quiet the first time we walked here –
except for the birds. The birds were singing loudly,
so loudly in fact that their melody hurt our ears.
Later, we learnt they were actually quieter than before, only now, devoid of cars and people,
their melody could actually be heard.

We walked this way again, today, without
the fear of meeting others. This time it was
the cars that shouted, roaring as they passed,
angry, desperate to be moving on.
I could see the birds were screaming but
their tortured song was muffled, faint and lost.

Five years on from the start of the pandemic, Spring is here, and with it the birds’ melodious song – if you can hear it, that is.
(22.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Tyler Jamieson Moulton on Unsplash

Poem 456 – Last Post

Mar 16, 2025Nov 24, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Outside the light began to fade,
as inside I was making tea.
Filling the kettle, I was arrested,
by the melodious sound of a lone
blackbird saying its prayers before
its bed. I stood in awe, enraptured,
moved to add my own amen.

A beautiful moment at dusk tonight.
(16.03.25)

Poem 414 – The Conversation of the Birds

Feb 2, 2025Nov 21, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The conversation of the birds echoes
beneath the ancient woodland canopy.
We turn our searching eyes upwards to check on
the source of these trill tongues, but alas, they flee.
A hint of movement flits amongst the leaves,
a trace of colour or suggestive shape:
the twitching of the leaves caught in the breeze
or shadow of the bird as it escapes?
We close our eyes and stand as still as we
are able to and try to disappear,
perhaps our feathered friends will sense our plea,
and stepping forwards, finally lose their fear.
In time the individuals will emerge,
if you attend to the conversation of the birds.

Birdwatching in the woods can be a frustrating affair, so often they remain out of sight, but careful listening can lead to individuals appearing from the chorus.
(02.02.25)

(Edit: swapped the last two lines around, much better for this simple switch! 03.03.23)

Poem 241 – When I Stopped to Actually Listen

Apr 30, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Walking amidst the trees I hear:
blackcaps and great tits, chiffchaffs and wrens,
weaving a three dimensional tapestry.
Confined, the blackbird’s song frees me,
widens my perception, whilst the goldfinch
grants me wings amongst the leaves.
Picking out particular voices,
the choir starts to swell and I’m
enrapt by their musicality.

Recently I’ve been trying to learn to recognise and name birdsong. With the help of a phone app, this has opened my awareness to the choir around me. What was generic birdsong has become the glorious conversation of a varied throng of birds: an ear for the particular has enriched the appreciation of the whole.
(30.04.24)

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling

Birdsong