Green Boughs And Singing Birds
Gaymer’s love of birds and plants shines throughout Green Boughs and Singing Birds.
Anyone who bird watches will have moments of sheer envy as she describes some of the species that she has encountered. And some birds have chapters of their own: one about jays tells of their spider-munching habits on Oakville’s high rise apartment buildings; another about sparrows tells of their curiosity and their delight in dust baths.
Her birding adventures are many and varied: on the Bay of Fundy, the boat she was on was surrounded by Storm-petrels which
looked like a diaphanous black cloud, constantly changing shape, intensity and location, pulsating with action. Birds. Black swarms that reminded me of the swirling flocks of blackbirds or starlings near winter roosts. The cloud came closer and closer until the black hordes were everywhere: far and near, either fluttering low or parked on the sea or surging up in those clouds, in whichever direction we faced.
Whether singly or in flocks, Gaymer’s feathered friends are well-served by this charming reminiscence. mRb