James Gilbert
@jamesgilbertmr.bsky.social
Naturalist, ecologist, writer.
“How pleasant it would be each day to think, Today I have done something that will render future generations more happy." Richard Jefferies, 1883.
Location: east Northamptonshire, UK.
“How pleasant it would be each day to think, Today I have done something that will render future generations more happy." Richard Jefferies, 1883.
Location: east Northamptonshire, UK.
Pinned
James Gilbert
@jamesgilbertmr.bsky.social
· Nov 14
Middle-aged me. Near-constantly thinking of times gone by, or about those lying ahead. My mind is only held still in the now by nature, when attentive to, say, flitting songbirds, nodding flowerheads, trembling leaves — then do I lose nostalgia or worry, and briefly find a sweet state of just being.
Reposted by James Gilbert
Sometimes, even the breeze & rain & completely grey cannot deny us skylark song, such is the fire now in his spring-ready heart.
February 13, 2026 at 9:18 AM
Sometimes, even the breeze & rain & completely grey cannot deny us skylark song, such is the fire now in his spring-ready heart.
The year’s first blackbird evensong. Stop-still beauty at the close of a trying day.
February 14, 2026 at 5:09 PM
The year’s first blackbird evensong. Stop-still beauty at the close of a trying day.
Sometimes, even the breeze & rain & completely grey cannot deny us skylark song, such is the fire now in his spring-ready heart.
February 13, 2026 at 9:18 AM
Sometimes, even the breeze & rain & completely grey cannot deny us skylark song, such is the fire now in his spring-ready heart.
A winter-flooded field. The bare, waterlogged soil is dotted with lapwing. Their off-season splendour is perfectly reflected in the glassy lines of water by which they stand.
February 12, 2026 at 1:56 PM
A winter-flooded field. The bare, waterlogged soil is dotted with lapwing. Their off-season splendour is perfectly reflected in the glassy lines of water by which they stand.
Right now hearing that beautifully languid song of the mistle thrush! — like the blackbird’s, but with a greater measure of wildness.
February 12, 2026 at 10:07 AM
Right now hearing that beautifully languid song of the mistle thrush! — like the blackbird’s, but with a greater measure of wildness.
A miserable, shabby fuel station on a grey day. The roar of fast-moving cars & HGVs on the near, rain-soaked trunk road. But punching above this awful din: the sweet notes of a song thrush, singing his heart out from the edge of a litter-choked thicket. Undefeated, unbroken. Glorious & uplifting.
February 11, 2026 at 8:33 AM
A miserable, shabby fuel station on a grey day. The roar of fast-moving cars & HGVs on the near, rain-soaked trunk road. But punching above this awful din: the sweet notes of a song thrush, singing his heart out from the edge of a litter-choked thicket. Undefeated, unbroken. Glorious & uplifting.
The wintertime charm of alder. Pendent male catkins held alongside female cones; the intricate texture & burnt maroon colour.
February 10, 2026 at 4:22 PM
The wintertime charm of alder. Pendent male catkins held alongside female cones; the intricate texture & burnt maroon colour.
Briefly did the sun come out; with it came the drumming of a great spotted woodpecker, and the wheeze-trill of a greenfinch. Such is the beautiful, gentle, drawing closer of spring.
February 9, 2026 at 6:00 PM
Briefly did the sun come out; with it came the drumming of a great spotted woodpecker, and the wheeze-trill of a greenfinch. Such is the beautiful, gentle, drawing closer of spring.
Inspired by a walk earlier this week — “Fieldfare Bridge”.
February 6, 2026 at 12:53 PM
Inspired by a walk earlier this week — “Fieldfare Bridge”.
February 5, 2026 at 1:34 PM
Inspired by a walk earlier this week — “Fieldfare Bridge”.
The squelch of my footsteps, the chack-chack-tseep of winter thrushes.
February 3, 2026 at 2:14 PM
The squelch of my footsteps, the chack-chack-tseep of winter thrushes.
A short piece I wrote about wintertime rooks at the day’s end.
February 3, 2026 at 10:19 AM
A short piece I wrote about wintertime rooks at the day’s end.
This dawn I heard not one singing blackbird, but three or four, in full-bodied song. The calm suburban air infused with carefree melody. A precious moment.
February 2, 2026 at 8:26 AM
This dawn I heard not one singing blackbird, but three or four, in full-bodied song. The calm suburban air infused with carefree melody. A precious moment.
I wrote about wintering gulls; a roosting scene set further up the (Nene) valley in which I live.
January 30, 2026 at 9:15 AM
I wrote about wintering gulls; a roosting scene set further up the (Nene) valley in which I live.
My garden would absolutely be a lesser place without the humble blackbird.
January 30, 2026 at 7:35 AM
My garden would absolutely be a lesser place without the humble blackbird.
“Grief is the price we pay for love.” — is what I tell myself, as I process the news of the passing today of a loved one.
As I type: outside, in the garden, in a dark corner beyond the lounge window lightspill, I can hear a song thrush singing—with all his might. There’s comfort in his rich voice.
As I type: outside, in the garden, in a dark corner beyond the lounge window lightspill, I can hear a song thrush singing—with all his might. There’s comfort in his rich voice.
January 29, 2026 at 5:54 PM
“Grief is the price we pay for love.” — is what I tell myself, as I process the news of the passing today of a loved one.
As I type: outside, in the garden, in a dark corner beyond the lounge window lightspill, I can hear a song thrush singing—with all his might. There’s comfort in his rich voice.
As I type: outside, in the garden, in a dark corner beyond the lounge window lightspill, I can hear a song thrush singing—with all his might. There’s comfort in his rich voice.
Grateful thanks to Mark for allowing me a spot on his excellent blog.
Guest blog #naturewriting by @jamesgilbertmr.bsky.social
Gullwing Hour markavery.info/2026/01/29/g...
Gullwing Hour markavery.info/2026/01/29/g...
January 29, 2026 at 11:10 AM
Grateful thanks to Mark for allowing me a spot on his excellent blog.
Earlier spellbound & charmed by a large, chittering, buzzy, golden-sunlit flock of finches & buntings — linnet, chaffinch, goldfinch, reed bunting & yellowhammer. Many dozens! Streaming to & fro between thick hedgerow & brassica-seed crop. The sight, the sound; the joy & wonder!
January 28, 2026 at 9:40 AM
Earlier spellbound & charmed by a large, chittering, buzzy, golden-sunlit flock of finches & buntings — linnet, chaffinch, goldfinch, reed bunting & yellowhammer. Many dozens! Streaming to & fro between thick hedgerow & brassica-seed crop. The sight, the sound; the joy & wonder!
Absolutely love the loud, exuberant song of the song thrush. Really do. Really do. Really do.
January 27, 2026 at 10:33 AM
Absolutely love the loud, exuberant song of the song thrush. Really do. Really do. Really do.
At my desk, writing (for work, not pleasure) and in this present moment I can hear nothing but the ticking of the wall clock and the window pane-muffled — but still loud — notes of a song thrush. To have and hear him so near, is just wonderful.
January 26, 2026 at 11:51 AM
At my desk, writing (for work, not pleasure) and in this present moment I can hear nothing but the ticking of the wall clock and the window pane-muffled — but still loud — notes of a song thrush. To have and hear him so near, is just wonderful.
A short memory, or an insatiable appetite for walks? My border collie Maisie, within minutes of us getting home fairly weatherbeaten, & with my slightest rummage in the coat cupboard, is at my side, looking up expectantly, wanting to head out yet again…
January 25, 2026 at 9:04 AM
A short memory, or an insatiable appetite for walks? My border collie Maisie, within minutes of us getting home fairly weatherbeaten, & with my slightest rummage in the coat cupboard, is at my side, looking up expectantly, wanting to head out yet again…
This morning a blackbird & song thrush sang together, just before the stars left the sky. A dreamy discord which, hours later, still plays over at the front of mind, so beautiful & needed that it was.
January 24, 2026 at 12:12 PM
This morning a blackbird & song thrush sang together, just before the stars left the sky. A dreamy discord which, hours later, still plays over at the front of mind, so beautiful & needed that it was.
Of all the bird species that bathe in the garden pond, none do so with effervescence equal to the song thrush. When sometimes hidden from view by the rushes, he can be identified by the water’s great agitation alone!
A blur of a song thrush, gleefully bathing belly-high & in rapid motion, in the full-to-brim pond, as new cold rain falls. Sweeping arcs merge with concentric rings.
January 24, 2026 at 8:05 AM
Of all the bird species that bathe in the garden pond, none do so with effervescence equal to the song thrush. When sometimes hidden from view by the rushes, he can be identified by the water’s great agitation alone!
A blur of a song thrush, gleefully bathing belly-high & in rapid motion, in the full-to-brim pond, as new cold rain falls. Sweeping arcs merge with concentric rings.
January 23, 2026 at 12:05 PM
A blur of a song thrush, gleefully bathing belly-high & in rapid motion, in the full-to-brim pond, as new cold rain falls. Sweeping arcs merge with concentric rings.
Always been neat & tidy in the home; this once extended into the garden. Now happy to let nature happen. Accepting a less orderly look has brought more life &, in turn, more joy & wonder. To beat the disposition to control is positive for the mind — let go the fussing & fretting, & it liberates.
January 23, 2026 at 9:22 AM
Always been neat & tidy in the home; this once extended into the garden. Now happy to let nature happen. Accepting a less orderly look has brought more life &, in turn, more joy & wonder. To beat the disposition to control is positive for the mind — let go the fussing & fretting, & it liberates.