Alfred Tennyson’s line comes to me again and agin on the river. Although he was ‘speaking’ as a babbling brook, I find the line babbling in my mind and from my lips incessantly as I see the Thames birdlife.
I eventually realised that a ‘hern’ is a heron, so here are …….
….. my coot
and my hern
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Published by lesley-jane
Wife of Stewart, mother of 3, Granny of 6 (yes, I am happy to define myself by my family; I value them more than anything), and living abroad Calliope, our replica Dutch Barge, currently cruising the inland waterways of France, Belgium and The Netherlands. Retired from a couple of enjoyable careers, and now being closer to the real, outdoor me. Love water, fascinated by animals, enjoy music, support Pompey and try to find fun in all parts of my life.
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