Algy thought that perhaps he had absorbed enough salt water and sand for a while. It took him all morning to clean his feathers after his night-time adventure on the beach, so he decided to try a much drier and more sheltered environment for a change. After flying inland for an hour or so, he alighted in an open woodland where the steep slopes were covered in masses of beautiful heather. It was a gorgeous early autumn day, and the air was warm and full of the fragrance of honey. Reclining on a soft bed of heather flowers, Algy laid back and relaxed in the sunshine, idly watching the late bees, and thinking of an old poem that he loved:

High waving heather ‘neath stormy blasts bending,
Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars,
Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
Man’s spirit away from its drear dungeon sending,
Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.

All down the mountain sides wild forests lending
One mighty voice to the life-giving wind,
Rivers their banks in their jubilee rending,
Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending,
Wider and deeper their waters extending,
Leaving a desolate desert behind.

Shining and lowering and swelling and dying,
Changing forever from midnight to noon;
Roaring like thunder, like soft music sighing,
Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.

Algy hopes that if your spirits have been trapped in drear dungeons, they will ascend this weekend and you will have a happy, relaxing time xoxo

[Algy is quoting the poem High Waving Heather by the 19th century English writer Emily Brontë.]

The wind was rapidly growing stronger and a severe gale was forecast for later in the day, so Algy decided to catch up with his reading while he could. He found himself a cosy, sheltered spot on a bank of late-flowering heather, and tried to tuck his head into his book, although the wind had other ideas…

Sitting there in the heather with the wind in his feathers and a gale blowing up, Algy was inevitably reminded of a poem by Emily Brontë:

          High waving heather, ‘neath stormy blasts bending,
          Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars;
          Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
          Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
          Man’s spirit away from its drear dongeon sending,
          Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.

          All down the mountain sides, wild forest lending
          One mighty voice to the life-giving wind;
          Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending,
          Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending,
          Wider and deeper their waters extending,
          Leaving a desolate desert behind.

          Shining and lowering and swelling and dying,
          Changing for ever from midnight to noon;
          Roaring like thunder, like soft music sighing,
          Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
          Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
          Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.

[Algy is quoting the poem High Waving Heather by the 19th century English writer Emily Brontë.]

The light was failing as the dark clouds swept in across the sea behind him, but Algy continued to read. He was reading a poem about friendship, and this is what it said:

          Love is like the wild rose-briar,
          Friendship like the holly-tree—
          The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
          But which will bloom most constantly?

          The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
          Its summer blossoms scent the air;
          Yet wait till winter comes again
          And who will call the wild-briar fair?

          Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
          And deck thee with the holly’s sheen,
          That when December blights thy brow
          He still may leave thy garland green.

Algy dedicates this to all his amazing Tumblr friends who have been so incredibly kind to him (and to his assistant). When Algy started his Adventures, he never dreamed that they would lead to friendship with so many wonderful people around the world. Algy loves you all, and sends you all his very fluffiest hugs xoxoxo

And it is dedicated particularly to those people who have recently lost a friend – Algy is thinking of you especially…

[Algy is reading the poem Love and Friendship by the English 19th century author Emily Brontë.]

It had been a wild and stormy day, but towards the evening the sun broke through the clouds from time to time, in sudden bursts of gold. Algy sat on one of his favourite rocks, listening to all the sounds around him, and watching the rapidly changing light. He was reminded of a poem by Emily Brontë:    

          High waving heather ‘neath stormy blasts bending,
          Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars,
          Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
          Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
          Man’s spirit away from its drear dungeon sending,
          Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.

          All down the mountain sides wild forests lending
          One mighty voice to the life-giving wind,
          Rivers their banks in their jubilee rending,
          Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending,
          Wider and deeper their waters extending,
          Leaving a desolate desert behind.

          Shining and lowering and swelling and dying,
          Changing forever from midnight to noon;
          Roaring like thunder, like soft music sighing,
          Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
          Lighning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
          Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.

Fall, Leaves, Fall on Algy

image

The weather was changing rapidly, and it looked as though it would be Algy’s last chance to enjoy the beautiful autumn leaves on the trees. Despite the frequent icy showers of rain and hail, the sky cleared at times. Algy waited all day for a good break in the cloud, and was eventually rewarded with some late afternoon sunshine. So he perched on a low branch of his favourite silver birch tree and watched the golden leaves drift down gently all around him to the ground.

         Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
         Lengthen night and shorten day;
         Every leaf speaks bliss to me
         Fluttering from the autumn tree.

[From the poem Fall, leaves, fall by Emily Brontë.]

Note: the animation may be jerky while it loads, but will then play properly.
Algy hopes that perfectionists will overlook the compression artefacts and lack of colour depth – Tumblr imposes heavy restraints on animated GIFs.