Lapwing

I saw you in the morning as I walked to primary school: soaring, twisting, dropping to earth like a stone. In my innocence, and not knowing the reasons for your behaviour, I imagined that you were just trying to amuse me by looping and zigzagging above the fields.

You were beautiful! The greenish feathers on your neck and wings glinted in the sun, your white belly flashed when you did one of your stunts. My friends at school called you a ‘peesie-weet’, making a sound like your call – to be honest, you weren’t the best of singers.

I was away all afternoon, up to some work or other that was important to me at the time. I’m sorry if you thought that I had stopped caring about you.

Now it is evening, and sixty years have gone past. There is no sign of you, or your children, or your children’s children, in the places we used to meet.

I miss you in this glen where the golden barley is ripening.

(‘This familiar farmland bird has suffered significant declines recently and is now a Red List species.’ rspb.org.uk)

Thanks to Katie for her editorial advice.

The Lapwing. I bought this book in July 1963.