When the gales moved away to visit Algy’s friend @funnyful in Sweden, the wind started to swing round and the weather began to change. Before long the world was full of colour again, and as Algy relaxed on the hard, storm-hammered sand, he could detect fresh new autumn scents and tastes in the air, mingled with the usual sea salt…

It had been exceedingly windy, and even after the storm had passed the sea still seemed to be quite angry, battering the rocks and the beach with considerable vigour. But at least it had stopped raining for a while, so Algy tucked himself in flat against the rock, holding on tightly with both wings, and spent a happy hour or two just watching the waves pounding on the shore.

adventuresofalgy:

The wind was relentless, and it was blowing sand everywhere. It wasn’t long before Algy’s eyes and beak and feathers and hair were all full of sand, so he shook himself off and retreated to the relative shelter of a clump of Marram grass growing in the middle of the beach. As he dug himself into a sand pocket, he watched the wind fill in the footprints of the sandpipers and other seabirds. It only took a few moments to erase their tracks across the beach, and it reminded Algy of a poem:

The wind stops, the wind begins.
The wind says stop, begin.

A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor.
The shovel changes, the floor changes.

The sandpipers, maybe they know.
Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell.
Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses.

The sandpipers cheep “Here” and get away.
Five of them fly and keep together flying.

Night hair of some sea woman
Curls on the sand when the sea leaves
The salt tide without a good-by.

Boxes on the beach are empty.
Shake ‘em and the nails loosen.
They have been somewhere.

[Algy is quoting the poem Sand Scribblings by the 20th century American poet Carl Sandburg.]

Severe gale warning… again!

Sometimes Algy wishes he lived somewhere that was maybe just a wee bit less windy – at least some of the time…

photosworthseeing:

Happy 3rd Birthday to you!
Happy 3rd Birthday to you!
Happy 3rd Birthday dear PWS,
Happy 3rd Birthday to you!

Dear friends at PWS, Algy sends you his fluffiest congratulations on your 3rd Tumblr birthday and his warmest thanks for all the amazing work you have done over the past three years to promote and support the photographers (and fluffy birds) on Tumblr, and to brighten up all our lives. Algy is looking forward to many more years of PWS :)))

Algy managed to rescue three slightly battered gladioli from the storms in time for your birthday, although they are a wee bit damaged by the wind and the rain. He hopes you like them.

Lots of extra fluffy hugs to you all, with love from Algy @adventuresofalgy xoxoxo

And the fluffiest hugs to the probably most famous bird on Tumblr. Thank you and Jenny @jennychapmanartwork for making our Tumblr experience wonderful and magical! And thank you for your most wonderful words and this beautiful submission!

PWS – Photos Worth Seeing

It’s PWS @photosworthseeing 3rd Tumblr birthday today! Let’s all celebrate and thank the wonderful team who work so hard to promote original photography on Tumblr 🙂

It was positively cosy at the foot of the sheltering cliff, where the burn from the hill cut through the sand and the rock to the sea, but Algy knew that soon it would start to rain again and he would have to seek more adequate cover…

Algy hopes that if you are experiencing stormy weather this weekend, you will be able to find yourself a warm and cosy spot to relax in 🙂

It was that time of year again, and a typical equinoctial gale was on its way. Algy decided that he had had enough of being buffeted and thrown about by the wind, so this time he took cover at the foot of a strange cliff near the end of the beach. As he perched on a low ledge, with his back firmly against the sheltering wall of rock, he thought of a poem by Emily Dicikinson:

The wind begun to rock the grass
With threatening tunes and low —
He flung a menace at the earth,
A menace at the sky.

The leaves unhooked themselves from trees
And started all abroad;
The dust did scoop itself like hands
And throw away the road.

The wagons quickened on the streets,
The thunder hurried slow;
The lightning showed a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.

The birds put up the bars to nests,
The cattle fled to barns;
There came one drop of giant rain,
And then, as if the hands

That held the dams had parted hold,
The waters wrecked the sky,
But overlooked my father’s house,
Just quartering a tree.

[Algy is quoting a poem by the 19th century American poet Emily Dickinson.]

Algy flew back to the big beach, where the waves rolled in with great enthusiasm, tossing the seaweed and shells around on the sand to create ever-changing patterns. The beach sloped very gently here, and Algy loved to sit near the water, waiting for the waves to come and tickle his toes as the tide rolled in. Sometimes an unusually big wave caught him by surprise and he got a great deal wetter than he intended, but it was all part of the fun 🙂