Having eyes, but not seeing beauty; having ears, but not hearing music; having minds, but not perceiving truth…These are the things to fear…

Tetsuko Kuroyanagi

There are times when you just have to laugh in delight at your own blindness.

Here we were, out biking a favourite path.  “Let’s go and see if the stork is there” we’d said.

First stork-sighting, 3 weeks ago. (Echinaea fields beyond.)


It had been there several times recently, standing in the field, watching for small morsels – and wearing its leg-bands that indicate the history of reintroduction.

It had been there a week ago when we went into the fields of echinacea to pick flowers for making tincture (with the farmer’s permission of course).

We’d had the conversation about when and whether they might nest locally again, because it’s only in recent years that we’ve seen them return.

But today, no stork.  We sat on a favourite bench. I took photos of the trout in the pool, avoiding the shadow the pole behind threw on the water.


We started biking back, and I glanced behind……



We’d been so intent on looking for the stork on the fields we’d not seen that sometime (my earlier photos had missed that spot) someone (next time we see the farmer we’ll ask who) had put up an absolutely unmistakeable, unmissable pole by the pool, and topped it with a frame for the stork to build on.



Hah!  We had only to lift our sights……