A Picture and a Poem

I'll start by asking what kind of fool could possibly have been heralding the start of Spring only just over a week ago?!

A lot's changed since I the last time I posted.

I turned 20 (thus adding another lie to the title of this blog), I cut open a chicken to look at it's insides (it was a dissection, not just a spur of the moment thing) and I gave a presentation in front of over 100 people (which was just beaten by the chicken's digestive tract for the most uncomfortable feeling of the day award).

And also, as you can see from the picture, winter was back. With a vengeance. This was the scene yesterday at the University. No sun, no singing birds. Just snow. Lots of snow. And angry people complaining about the lots of snow.

Luckily for all those with anti-snow tendencies, it was only a cameo and was washed away overnight by rain. This morning saw relatively warm temperatures. Possibly, dare I say it, Spring lik- No I can't do it. I couldn't face the shame again.

So to distract myself from making wildly inaccurate seasonal predictions here's a poem about Whooper Swans. Enjoy.

There is a winter guardian,

A bringer of the cold.

Carried upon frozen winds,

For thousands of centuries old.

They carry it in their feathers,

They carry it in their blood.

Frozen in to DNA,

They wouldn't lose it if they could.

It seems they come from heavens,

Descend from snow clouds high.

They carry it on their whitest wings,

As they appear from out the sky.

They illuminate the winter scene,

The marsh and lake erupt with noise.

Their excited calls of a journey made,

Surely one of winter's joys.

But their stay is over shortly,

Back to the sky they rise.

They'll return the winter from whence it came,

Disappearing before the eyes.

Leaving fields of winter snow,

Their shape begins to morph.

Leaving earthly ties behind,

Becoming the angels from the North.