All that is gold does not glitter,
J.R.R. Tolkien
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken
The crownless again shall be king.
I have used, “Just because I wander, doesn’t mean I’m lost” as catchline for birdsaspoetry blog for quite a number of years. I realise it is a bit of a corruption of J. J. J. Tolkien’s work of, “The Riddle of Strider”.
And while this is not a book review, nor a poetry examination, the meaning of the original intent of the riddle is quite clear. Yet there are so many ways part of the quote can be taken and applied.
In our rambles looking for suitable birds, it might often seem we are wandering about aimlessly. Such is the nature of the way birds appear to work to the casual observer.
Several weeks ago we had a number of days of intense heavy rainstorms. Most mornings I walk early before breakfast, along a section of the nearby Davis Creek. This is an old watercourse and in the past times, before housing estates were established on either side of the bank, it would have been for most of the year a series of ephemeral water holes, most of which would be dry by mid-summer.
These days, the housing estates stormwater drains (is that a verb or a noun?) into the Creek. With the housing stretching for kilometres up the creek, after several days of rain, the creek overflows its normal watercourse and spreads out over the lowlying river flats.
Melbourne Water, have constructed quite a number of wetlands along the creek that help control the quality of the water. The thick reed beds capture and hold silt and debris that comes down the creek, the water leaving the wetlands is well filtered. But as a storm water entry point is about every 500m or so there is lot of debris that enters the waterway.
A footbridge, in my area, was constructed to give access to housing estates on both side of the creek. As I walked across with the water running through the grasses on the lowlands I was struck by the pattern that an Australasian Swamphen had made in its journey about in the flood affected grasses.
At first glance it might appear random. But no doubt the bird had a purpose in mind.
Enjoy
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 