Walking down the path early this morning, just before the sun rose, I heard the strangest grunting and croaking sounds. I had heard that sound before! Wishing I had taken the torch, I stopped and listened.

      They were back! Frogs, frogs and even more frogs! I couldn’t see them but I knew they had arrived in our pond.  The male frogs were making all the noise, as usual. You see, the females have much softer voices! The longer days of sunlight and recent rains had brought them home to mate. I smiled at the thought that our home for waifs and strays was busy again.

      These stout bodied creatures with their protruding eyes and cleft tongues would soon build mountains of spawn before leaving again. I guess they know that my kind and unassuming husband and I will watch over them.  

Today, as I looked out of the window and into the garden of our home for waifs and strays, I could not help but notice a subtle change. First, the seagulls came down in pairs, with their squawky, confident cries. Then came the starlings, looking and sounding chirpier than ever. The doves and the wood pigeons followed, in pairs of course and settled on a fence near the pond. The chaffinch, the greenfinch and the dunnock also paid a visit, as did the wren and the robin and my old and dearest friend, the blackbird. The crows and the jackdaws soon arrived and sat up in a tree preening for some event. And it seemed to began when I awoke very early, this morning.

     It was still dark as my eyes looked towards the open window.  There was something peculiar going on outside. The birdsong was different. Livelier, chirpier, sweeter! Love, I thought, was definitely in the air. I smiled to myself and listened with quiet breath, to nature.

     Valentine’s Day is believed to have started around the time of the Roman Empire, when Claudius put a stop to his men marrying, believing it made them weak. However, Bishop Valentine performed marriage ceremonies and was sent to jail as a result. But the jailer had a daughter, who received a love letter from the Bishop, signed your Valentine. This did not help the Bishop and he was put to death, for this crime, on February 14^th.  

      But for me, I like to think of Valentine’s Day as a promise of spring. It is around the 14^th that the hens begin to lay their eggs again and birds pair up for mating. There have been many birds, the past few days, collecting bits and pieces for their nests. It’s such a joy to watch!

      And I will leave you with a little something to think about. In Finland, just across the water, Valentine’s Day is called Ystavanpaiva (Friend’s Day) and is more about remembering friends than loved ones. However, I’m sure you can incorporate both!

All the Ayre is thy Diocese
And all the chirping Queristers  
Thou marryest every yeare
The Lyrick Lark, and the graue whispering Doue,
The Sparrow that neglects his life for loue,
The houshold bird with the redd stomacher
Thou makst the Blackbird speede as soone,
As doth the Goldfinch, or the Halcyon
The Husband Cock lookes out and soone is spedd
And meets his wife, which brings her feather-bed.
This day more cheerfully than ever shine

This day which might inflame thy selfe old Valentine.

—John Donne, Epithalamion Vpon Frederick Count Palatine and the Lady Elizabeth marryed on St. Valentines day

Although known for their violent behaviour, there are many hawks that are quiet and gentle. This particular hawk, fearless and determined, displayed a confident attitude as it hunted above my head recently. Thankfully, I was too big a catch for him, but for the small birds and mammals nearby, there were no particularly good places to hide.

      Even though he is not on the top of my most favourite bird list, I have to say, it was a magnificent sight to watch. After flapping his wings rapidly in the air, he used the momentum to glide gracefully and skilfully, above the dunes, searching for his prey. Thankfully, I did not witness the results of his hunger game.

       During mating time, the hawk (Accipiter gentilis) will fly with the female, up in the air where they mate before free falling back to earth. Together they build a nest, and together they maintain it and care for their young. Many of the hawk’s species are monogamous and will remain together for the rest of their lives.

Proverb: A hawk kills because it is his nature; a man because it is his pleasure.

Not far from our home for waifs and strays, is a large stretch of tidal wetlands that reaches out to sea. This is home to an abundance of wildlife including the marsh ponies and hardy sheep. But like a leopard that can change its spots, this quiet water can also change its mood.

     On a low tide with the sun shining, or even on a day like this one, one can see the ever changing colours of the hills that roll down to the waters edge. This enchanting and peaceful place has habitats that entice the many and varied wading birds. But during high tide, the banks and rivers become flooded leaving many an animal at its mercy.

     Not so long ago, during a storm, I travelled by this marshy land, on a narrow road, transformed into a shallow river. The tide, not yet high, was quite alluring and I impulsively stopped the car to stare at the beauty of it all.

     Many sheep and ponies had been rescued before and during the storm by volunteers but some remained and were sheltering on the edge of the river banks. 

     The unrelenting rain did not seem to bother a heron that stood patiently, waiting for his lunch. So, as the rain continued to fall, I wound down the window and took a few photos, and just as I did, a duck went sailing by, without a care in the world. It was magical!

I’m not quite sure what it is about tea (a cup of sweet tea especially)that can cause the human race to drop everything and pour their hearts out, over its vapours. My dear and unassuming husband is the exception as he has never drank a cup of tea in his entire life...very strange!

     At our home for waifs and strays, the kettle rarely gets cold. There is always someone popping in for something or another, or just for a chat. I always switch the kettle on even before they are seated. And if I am busy, then the visitor will usually carry out the task automatically. It seems that this is a very Welsh thing to do.

     It is almost as if everything dissolves in the steam that evaporates into your face. No worries, no stress, all washed away in a moments connection with the tea. If only it were that simple!

     But for awhile, tea does seem to comfort people.  It feels easier to talk perhaps, with ones hands wrapped around a hot cup or mug. Tea shops are becoming quite popular. I often meet up with friends and family in a tea shop by the sea. Just the thought of it makes me feel warm inside. No matter how far I roam, I will always look forward to a cup of tea at the other end.

     There are so many types of teas today, far too many to mention here but I’m sure many of you would have tried at least one or two or even more. Just writing about it makes me want to put the kettle on. Just wait a moment please!

     Watching the steam come from the kettle, even before I fill the teapot (we still use a teapot at our home for waifs and strays)makes me feel trapped in its spell....not a bad feeling, even if only for awhile!

     Below is a poem I discovered and written by a woman called Naomi Shihab Nye...enjoy!

The Tray by Naomi Shihab Nye
Even on a sorrowing day
the little white cups without handles
would appear
filled with steaming hot tea
in a circle on the tray,
and whatever we were able
to say or not say,
the tray would be passed,
we would sip
in silence,
it was another way
lips could be speaking together,

opening on the hot rim,

swallowing in unison.