As the weather forecast for the week ahead was grim, Algy decided to make the most of a brief spell of sunshine, and go for a wee ride in the birch tree while it was still relatively calm and comfortably dry. As he looked at the colours of the leaves around him, he felt that for once he had almost achieved a state of satisfactory camouflage, but unfortunately it could only last for as long as the leaves still clung to the tree, which would not be very long at all if the forecast was correct…
As the weather forecast for the week ahead was grim, Algy decided to make the most of a brief spell of sunshine, and go for a wee ride in the birch tree while it was still relatively calm and comfortably dry. As he looked at the colours of the leaves around him, he felt that for once he had almost achieved a state of satisfactory camouflage, but unfortunately it could only last for as long as the leaves still clung to the tree, which would not be very long at all if the forecast was correct…
Algy left the forest and flew back towards his home by the wild ocean, fighting against the roaring north-east wind all the way. In the distance he could see the dual peaks of the Isle of Rum, dusted white with the first snow of the coming winter. It felt bitterly cold, and he wondered whether it wouldn’t have been wiser to have stayed beneath the cover of the great forest. He dropped down to the ground to rest by one of his favourite birch trees, amid a shower of falling leaves that were whirling round and round in the wind. Fascinated, Algy watched as he quickly acquired a pretty coverlet of russet, red and yellow, which glowed like pure gold in the autumn sunlight…
Algy wishes you all a very happy Sunday, and hopes that if you too live in these northern lands, you will manage to stay cosy and warm 🙂
Algy left the forest and flew back towards his home by the wild ocean, fighting against the roaring north-east wind all the way. In the distance he could see the dual peaks of the Isle of Rum, dusted white with the first snow of the coming winter. It felt bitterly cold, and he wondered whether it wouldn’t have been wiser to have stayed beneath the cover of the great forest. He dropped down to the ground to rest by one of his favourite birch trees, amid a shower of falling leaves that were whirling round and round in the wind. Fascinated, Algy watched as he quickly acquired a pretty coverlet of russet, red and yellow, which glowed like pure gold in the autumn sunlight…
Algy wishes you all a very happy Sunday, and hopes that if you too live in these northern lands, you will manage to stay cosy and warm 🙂
Algy dropped down to the woodland floor and leaned back on a soft carpet of mosses and fallen beech leaves. It was peaceful in the woods and everything seemed hushed; apart from the quiet rippling of the river, and the occasional whisper of a falling leaf, there was almost no sound. As he contemplated the trees in their autumn glory, Algy was reminded of a famous verse by Lord Byron:
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.
[Algy is quoting a small part of the long narrative poem Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage by the early 19th century Anglo-Scottish poet Lord Byron.]
Algy flew into the beech woods which lined one side of the river bank, and found a rather less comfortable perch than the one he had just left…
Although he loved his wild and windy home by the ocean shore, and the constant, soothing sounds of the sea, he had to admit that it made a pleasant change to be sheltered by these stately trees, and to be able to observe the autumn colours in the peaceful woodland without being blown around…
Algy hopes that you will all enjoy a peaceful weekend in a pleasant spot 🙂
Algy looked more closely at the river and the stones and the autumn leaves, and soon discovered that he was surrounded by a range of wonderful colours. Even the shadows on the water were really a deep indigo blue, not a dreary black after all, and the carpet of fallen leaves had a range of hues from green to gold to red and orangy-brown. When he realised that what had seemed at first like a depressingly dismal scene actually contained all the colours of the rainbow, Algy smiled a surprisingly fluffy smile and felt a lot happier.
But he had heard that one of his friends who was travelling had caught a nasty virus and was feeling very poorly, so to cheer her up – and anyone else feeling sick today – Algy recited this wee poem. He hopes that you will all be going out to play again very soon 🙂
“I cannot go to school today,“
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more – that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut – my eyes are blue –
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke –
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is – what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is… Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”
[Algy is quoting the children’s poem “Sick” by the 20th century American writer Shel Silverstein.]
The wind changed, and the rain cleared to bring a beautiful, calm October day. Algy flew into a cherry tree, and spent a peaceful morning watching the breeze ripple through the autumn leaves in gentle rhythms of colour and light.
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
[From the poem October by Robert Frost.]
The Adventures of Algy 