No, I'm not about to continue the rest of the verse from Neil Young's Helpless but it sums up today's blog.
Buzzards are becoming a common sight in this part of the north west. I passed one [or under one] being harassed by pigeons on Clieves Hills this morning.
Yesterday two were in more liesurely aerial antics in Flatman's Lane at Downholland. For fairly big birds they can be graceful and elegant when soaring on the wind. It's always makes the heart beat a little faster when you see something of their size in the sky near you.

A flock of gulls rising from the nearby fields caught the morning light in just the right places, too; you would not think there was that much difference between white, silver and grey but the nuances of their plumage was picked out smartly against the blue sky.
There is plenty for them to go at in the fields, too, now that farmers have brought out the plough and started tilling fields ready for sowing. The rich black earth of the mosslands is always a joy to see against the green and fawn of the fallow fields.
The hares are beginning to become noticeable, too, now. I spotted a couple of them together on the way home last night.
Music on the Moss: The rock-n-roll ban is still in place so we're sticking with the sanctified stuff for the last couple of weeks of Lent. Twenty years ago a redneck-turned-revivalist called Vernon Oxford left the rattlesnake preacher churches of Tennessee to visit an inmate at the Maze Prison in Northern Ireland. The BBC made a fascinating documentary of his visit, including music played in the prison, on the streets of Belfast and in local churches. Power In The Blood is country-meets-religion in the way that only people who love Hank Williams can do. Powerful stuff.

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