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.
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.
carried down-valley
indoors with a shiver draught
the buzzard’s wild mew
indoors with a shiver draught
the buzzard’s wild mew
January 22, 2026 at 11:15 AM
carried down-valley
indoors with a shiver draught
the buzzard’s wild mew
indoors with a shiver draught
the buzzard’s wild mew
A snaking river in deep winter spate:
the creases & folds, the vortices, varied tints, shadows, reflections, the murmuring. Willow shoots trail in, & tall reeds quiver by, the clouded fringe flow.
Stillness is found in the study of a river.
the creases & folds, the vortices, varied tints, shadows, reflections, the murmuring. Willow shoots trail in, & tall reeds quiver by, the clouded fringe flow.
Stillness is found in the study of a river.
January 21, 2026 at 9:52 AM
A snaking river in deep winter spate:
the creases & folds, the vortices, varied tints, shadows, reflections, the murmuring. Willow shoots trail in, & tall reeds quiver by, the clouded fringe flow.
Stillness is found in the study of a river.
the creases & folds, the vortices, varied tints, shadows, reflections, the murmuring. Willow shoots trail in, & tall reeds quiver by, the clouded fringe flow.
Stillness is found in the study of a river.
Eternal beauty, for what it is and what it was.
January 20, 2026 at 11:34 AM
Eternal beauty, for what it is and what it was.
On this drab & damp low-spirit morning, gratefulness for the wren, robin, thrush, dunnock & blackbird, all coming forward & gifting their bright songs.
January 19, 2026 at 9:26 AM
On this drab & damp low-spirit morning, gratefulness for the wren, robin, thrush, dunnock & blackbird, all coming forward & gifting their bright songs.
The great tit. Proudly he sings snowdrops into flower, blackthorn into bloom; calls the primrose to push up towards the light. A ringing-clear voice note, telling all who listen that bright magic is happening and on the way.
January 17, 2026 at 9:48 AM
The great tit. Proudly he sings snowdrops into flower, blackthorn into bloom; calls the primrose to push up towards the light. A ringing-clear voice note, telling all who listen that bright magic is happening and on the way.
Shallow sunrays reach through a winterbare copse, spill onto a field edge where dear linnets feed within fodder crop; the dank air resounds with their liquid chatter, and tall seeding weeds quiver by their touch. Flashing white, knitted tight, they all break cover, rise up and away over sepia tones.
January 16, 2026 at 10:06 AM
Shallow sunrays reach through a winterbare copse, spill onto a field edge where dear linnets feed within fodder crop; the dank air resounds with their liquid chatter, and tall seeding weeds quiver by their touch. Flashing white, knitted tight, they all break cover, rise up and away over sepia tones.
Leaving the doorstep to defrost the car this morning, in the cold dark, was actually a pleasure — for there was a robin in the shrub beside me, in full-throated singing mode! It's like the most mundane task can magically be elevated from the ordinary by the touch of nature.
January 15, 2026 at 7:18 AM
Leaving the doorstep to defrost the car this morning, in the cold dark, was actually a pleasure — for there was a robin in the shrub beside me, in full-throated singing mode! It's like the most mundane task can magically be elevated from the ordinary by the touch of nature.
Pressed down, still against thawing earth, the hare stares, waits…& my inevitable misstep draws a lightning dash away, through radish crop glistening by frostmelt. The rhythmic pounding of feet; the rushing sound, as merged lines of leafy rosettes are crossed, & water sprays up from sodden flanks!
January 14, 2026 at 10:33 AM
Pressed down, still against thawing earth, the hare stares, waits…& my inevitable misstep draws a lightning dash away, through radish crop glistening by frostmelt. The rhythmic pounding of feet; the rushing sound, as merged lines of leafy rosettes are crossed, & water sprays up from sodden flanks!
portly woodpigeons
wings splayed
clambering
the stretch target —
ivy berries
wings splayed
clambering
the stretch target —
ivy berries
January 12, 2026 at 3:18 PM
portly woodpigeons
wings splayed
clambering
the stretch target —
ivy berries
wings splayed
clambering
the stretch target —
ivy berries
Recently wondering if Substack might suit as an online place for my nature writing. I write short-form/micro poetry & prose—as a hobby, as time allows. I’m not a blogger & I live a fairly quiet (some would say “dull”) life hence can’t imagine regularly (or ever) sending out a newsletter! Advice pls?
January 12, 2026 at 11:28 AM
Recently wondering if Substack might suit as an online place for my nature writing. I write short-form/micro poetry & prose—as a hobby, as time allows. I’m not a blogger & I live a fairly quiet (some would say “dull”) life hence can’t imagine regularly (or ever) sending out a newsletter! Advice pls?
For a shot of perspective, it's always worth taking a moment to look up at the stars when a chance arises. Never fails. And should the wild & evocative hooting call of an owl be heard, in that same moment, all the better!
January 10, 2026 at 10:38 PM
For a shot of perspective, it's always worth taking a moment to look up at the stars when a chance arises. Never fails. And should the wild & evocative hooting call of an owl be heard, in that same moment, all the better!
A regimented line of poplars; held still against iced-puddle sky, branches stippled with linnets & their gaily ways.
January 10, 2026 at 10:50 AM
A regimented line of poplars; held still against iced-puddle sky, branches stippled with linnets & their gaily ways.