Pied Beauty


Algy flew over to a soft, mossy bank beneath a spreading holly tree, which, with the exception of the vigorous ivy that smothered some of the older tree trunks, provided the only truly bright green in the woodland at this time of year. He lay back comfortably on a bed of last year’s fallen leaves, dreaming idly of the exciting new adventures that lay ahead while he gazed at the beautiful, dappled pattern of shadows which the holly leaves cast in the bright spring sunlight. It reminded him of one of his favourite poems:

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

Algy wishes you all a joyful and peaceful Sunday!

[Algy is quoting the poem Pied Beauty by the late 19th century English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins.]

Algy flew down to the water’s edge and perched on a damp stone, surrounded by a thin carpet of fallen leaves. He had been visiting some dear friends, who were now returning to their home in a warmer, more sheltered land, and for a moment the dark shadows crowded in upon him across the water. But as he gazed at the shimmering surface, he realised that in fact the threatening shadows were surrounded by glistening light and patches of beautiful blue… and then he felt a wee bit better. As he watched some of the red and gold leaves drifting slowly down the river, Algy hoped that his friends would be able to drift back again to see him very soon…

Algy dedicates this post to all his friends who are parted from their own dear friends and family, and he sends you all some very special fluffy hugs xoxo

After his adventure with the magic toadstool, Algy felt in need of a nice long drink of fresh water, so he flew to a wee woodland pool that he knew, at the foot of a waterfall that tumbled down the hillside through the trees. It was very peaceful perching on a rock by the water, and he rested there for some time, just listening to the water and watching the flickering patches of light that filtered through the trees.