The unique adventures of a fluffy bird in the wild West Highlands of Scotland.

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As the tide turned and the sun sank lower in the sky, Algy leaned back on the wet sand, surrounded by reflections of the clouds. He was thinking especially of his dear friend Monica mojo5050 – who by coincidence posted a beautiful image of reflections on a beach today – and of all his Tumblr friends who were facing difficult challenges in their lives at the moment. While the rippling, silvery waves quietly crept up the beach to dampen his toes, Algy thought of his friends, and of a poem by Sheenagh Pugh:
          Sometimes things don’t go, after all,           from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel           faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,           sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.           A people sometimes will step back from war;           elect an honest man, decide they care           enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.           Some men become what they were born for.           Sometimes our best efforts do not go           amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.           The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow           that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
Algy says: may it happen for you – and more often than sometimes :-))
[Algy is quoting the poem Sometimes by the contemporary British poet Sheenagh Pugh.]

As the tide turned and the sun sank lower in the sky, Algy leaned back on the wet sand, surrounded by reflections of the clouds. He was thinking especially of his dear friend Monica mojo5050 – who by coincidence posted a beautiful image of reflections on a beach today – and of all his Tumblr friends who were facing difficult challenges in their lives at the moment. While the rippling, silvery waves quietly crept up the beach to dampen his toes, Algy thought of his friends, and of a poem by Sheenagh Pugh:

          Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
          from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
          faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,
          sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

          A people sometimes will step back from war;
          elect an honest man, decide they care
          enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
          Some men become what they were born for.

          Sometimes our best efforts do not go
          amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
          The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
          that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

Algy says: may it happen for you – and more often than sometimes :-))

[Algy is quoting the poem Sometimes by the contemporary British poet Sheenagh Pugh.]

The autumn inevitably brought plenty of cloudy days, not to mention strong winds and rain, but at times the dark clouds had beautiful silver linings, and bright rays shone through them from beyond. When that happened, Algy just leaned back on the sand and gazed at the beautiful play of light which caused the whole sea to sparkle with diamonds…
Algy hopes that even on the dark days, your clouds will turn out to have silver linings, and rays of light will shine through to sparkle on you :-))

The autumn inevitably brought plenty of cloudy days, not to mention strong winds and rain, but at times the dark clouds had beautiful silver linings, and bright rays shone through them from beyond. When that happened, Algy just leaned back on the sand and gazed at the beautiful play of light which caused the whole sea to sparkle with diamonds…

Algy hopes that even on the dark days, your clouds will turn out to have silver linings, and rays of light will shine through to sparkle on you :-))

Algy loves to perch on a rock beside the sea, just watching the perpetual ebb and flow of the tide. And while the water swirls backwards and forwards beneath his toes, Algy thinks about this and that and the other thing… and about all his amazing Tumblr friends around the world.
Algy knows that quite a few of his Tumblr friends suffer from depression in various forms, more or less severe. For some of his luckier and more carefree friends, smiling comes easily, but for many others it is not so simple. So today Algy is thinking especially of all his friends who do not find it easy to smile. He hopes that his adventures may help bring a smile to your face on the bad days, and that Sadness will leave you soon :-)
          I pray you, Sadness, leave me soon,            In sweet invention thou art poor!          Thy sister Joy can make ten songs            While thou art making four.          One hour with thee is sweet enough;            But when we find the whole day gone          And no created thing is left -            We mourn the evil done-          Thou art too slow to shape thy thoughts            In stone, on canvas, or in song;          But Joy, being full of active heat,            Must do some deed ere long.          Thy sighs are gentle, sweet thy tears;            But if thou canst not help a man          To prove in substance what he feels -            Then give me Joy, who can.          Therefore, sweet Sadness, leave me soon,            Let thy bright sister Joy come more;          For she can make ten lovely songs            While thou art making four.
[Algy is quoting the poem Sadness and Joy by the early 20th century Welsh poet William Henry Davies.]

Algy loves to perch on a rock beside the sea, just watching the perpetual ebb and flow of the tide. And while the water swirls backwards and forwards beneath his toes, Algy thinks about this and that and the other thing… and about all his amazing Tumblr friends around the world.

Algy knows that quite a few of his Tumblr friends suffer from depression in various forms, more or less severe. For some of his luckier and more carefree friends, smiling comes easily, but for many others it is not so simple. So today Algy is thinking especially of all his friends who do not find it easy to smile. He hopes that his adventures may help bring a smile to your face on the bad days, and that Sadness will leave you soon :-)

          I pray you, Sadness, leave me soon,
            In sweet invention thou art poor!
          Thy sister Joy can make ten songs
            While thou art making four.

          One hour with thee is sweet enough;
            But when we find the whole day gone
          And no created thing is left -
            We mourn the evil done-

          Thou art too slow to shape thy thoughts
            In stone, on canvas, or in song;
          But Joy, being full of active heat,
            Must do some deed ere long.

          Thy sighs are gentle, sweet thy tears;
            But if thou canst not help a man
          To prove in substance what he feels -
            Then give me Joy, who can.

          Therefore, sweet Sadness, leave me soon,
            Let thy bright sister Joy come more;
          For she can make ten lovely songs
            While thou art making four.

[Algy is quoting the poem Sadness and Joy by the early 20th century Welsh poet William Henry Davies.]

Algy thought that his friends’ garden was looking very scruffy at the end of the season, and they didn’t seem to be doing anything to improve it. He decided to help out by cutting some grass, but the task turned out to be somewhat less straightforward – and very much harder work – than he had expected…
Have a lovely weekend, everybody, and don’t labour too hard in your leisure time!

Algy thought that his friends’ garden was looking very scruffy at the end of the season, and they didn’t seem to be doing anything to improve it. He decided to help out by cutting some grass, but the task turned out to be somewhat less straightforward – and very much harder work – than he had expected…

Have a lovely weekend, everybody, and don’t labour too hard in your leisure time!

Algy’s friend Pete of tvoom recently “tagged” him to publish five random facts about himself, but Algy thought that maybe his invisible assistant should be included too, so…
Five random facts about Algy:
Algy’s eyes are bright blue.
Algy likes to take things easy, and tries to avoid work as often as possible :-) Sometimes he hides in the bushes so that his assistant won’t ask him to do difficult and dangerous things!
Algy is of uncertain age, but like most fluffy birds he is probably much older than he looks. He can’t remember when he was born as he was just a tiny chick at the time…
Algy loves the sea. However, although Algy can fly, he can’t swim. He is happy on the ground or in the air, but is in danger of his life if he falls into the water.
Algy reads poetry and likes playing with old-fashioned toys :-)
Free extra fact: Algy loves all his wonderful Tumblr friends xoxo
Five random “facts” about Algy’s assistant, in Algy’s view:
Algy’s assistant’s eyes are brown.
Algy’s assistant rarely stops working: she expects everyone to work hard – especially Algy! – and often demands impossible feats in horrible weather. Boo hoo :-{{{
Algy’s assistant is of uncertain age, but definitely a lot older than many people assume. She can’t remember when she was born, but she can remember a world that was different in many ways.
Algy’s assistant loves the sea. Algy’s assistant can’t fly, and really doesn’t care to leave the ground at all… However, she can swim, but the sea in the West Highlands is much too cold for swimming and turns people blue.
Algy’s assistant reads poetry and likes playing with old-fashioned toys :-)
Free extra fact: Algy’s assistant loves all Algy’s (and her own) wonderful Tumblr friends xoxo
Algy loves to read all your own “random facts” too. So he is going to cheat and “tag” all his friends who have not recently published five facts about themselves. He would love to know more about you ;-))

Algy’s friend Pete of tvoom recently “tagged” him to publish five random facts about himself, but Algy thought that maybe his invisible assistant should be included too, so…

Five random facts about Algy:

  1. Algy’s eyes are bright blue.
  2. Algy likes to take things easy, and tries to avoid work as often as possible :-) Sometimes he hides in the bushes so that his assistant won’t ask him to do difficult and dangerous things!
  3. Algy is of uncertain age, but like most fluffy birds he is probably much older than he looks. He can’t remember when he was born as he was just a tiny chick at the time…
  4. Algy loves the sea. However, although Algy can fly, he can’t swim. He is happy on the ground or in the air, but is in danger of his life if he falls into the water.
  5. Algy reads poetry and likes playing with old-fashioned toys :-)
  6. Free extra fact: Algy loves all his wonderful Tumblr friends xoxo

Five random “facts” about Algy’s assistant, in Algy’s view:

  1. Algy’s assistant’s eyes are brown.
  2. Algy’s assistant rarely stops working: she expects everyone to work hard – especially Algy! – and often demands impossible feats in horrible weather. Boo hoo :-{{{
  3. Algy’s assistant is of uncertain age, but definitely a lot older than many people assume. She can’t remember when she was born, but she can remember a world that was different in many ways.
  4. Algy’s assistant loves the sea. Algy’s assistant can’t fly, and really doesn’t care to leave the ground at all… However, she can swim, but the sea in the West Highlands is much too cold for swimming and turns people blue.
  5. Algy’s assistant reads poetry and likes playing with old-fashioned toys :-)
  6. Free extra fact: Algy’s assistant loves all Algy’s (and her own) wonderful Tumblr friends xoxo

Algy loves to read all your own “random facts” too. So he is going to cheat and “tag” all his friends who have not recently published five facts about themselves. He would love to know more about you ;-))

This morning, a wee bird told Algy that PWS photosworthseeing are celebrating their 1st Tumblr birthday today! So Algy posed in the wet grass beside the last of the summer wildflowers, to create this special birthday card for everyone at PWS – his favourite photo blog and the home of some of his sweetest Tumblr friends.
CONGRATULATIONS and HAPPY BIRTHDAY PWS!!
May your second year on Tumblr be even better than your first, with plenty of Sunday Selfies, No Edit Fridays, and of course many wonderful photos on every day of the week. You do an amazing job, and Algy loves you :-)) He sends lots of especially fluffy birthday hugs to you all xoxoxo

This morning, a wee bird told Algy that PWS photosworthseeing are celebrating their 1st Tumblr birthday today! So Algy posed in the wet grass beside the last of the summer wildflowers, to create this special birthday card for everyone at PWS – his favourite photo blog and the home of some of his sweetest Tumblr friends.

CONGRATULATIONS and HAPPY BIRTHDAY PWS!!

May your second year on Tumblr be even better than your first, with plenty of Sunday Selfies, No Edit Fridays, and of course many wonderful photos on every day of the week. You do an amazing job, and Algy loves you :-)) He sends lots of especially fluffy birthday hugs to you all xoxoxo

Listen to the sounds of the bumble bees buzzing around Algy in the hydrangea bush.

There were still some bumble bees buzzing around the last of the summer flowers, so Algy decided to conceal himself in a hydrangea bush in order to get a closer view of his fuzzy friends.
Listen to the sounds of the bees buzzing around Algy.
As he watched a pretty bee going round and round in front of his beak, Algy reflected on the recent upsurge in the number of his Tumblr followers. He guessed that his Adventures had been featured as a “Recommended Blog” for a couple of weeks, although he really wasn’t quite sure. In any case, everything had returned to normal now, except that he had lots of lovely new followers. If you have started following Algy’s Adventures very recently, Algy thanks you kindly, and offers you a warm and very fluffy welcome. He hopes that you will stay in his world awhile :-))
Algy couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to become really famous, and he was inevitably reminded of Emily Dickinson’s short poem:
          Fame is a bee.          It has a song—          It has a sting—          Ah, too, it has a wing.
This post is dedicated to the mysterious Tumblr god(s) who helped Algy find so many new followers, and also to his special Tumblr friend in Australia veganmarley who loves every kind of creature and wants to know more about the West Highland bumble bees xoxo
[Algy is quoting the poem Fame is a bee (1788) by the 19th century American poet Emily Dickinson.]

There were still some bumble bees buzzing around the last of the summer flowers, so Algy decided to conceal himself in a hydrangea bush in order to get a closer view of his fuzzy friends.

Listen to the sounds of the bees buzzing around Algy.

As he watched a pretty bee going round and round in front of his beak, Algy reflected on the recent upsurge in the number of his Tumblr followers. He guessed that his Adventures had been featured as a “Recommended Blog” for a couple of weeks, although he really wasn’t quite sure. In any case, everything had returned to normal now, except that he had lots of lovely new followers. If you have started following Algy’s Adventures very recently, Algy thanks you kindly, and offers you a warm and very fluffy welcome. He hopes that you will stay in his world awhile :-))

Algy couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to become really famous, and he was inevitably reminded of Emily Dickinson’s short poem:

          Fame is a bee.
          It has a song—
          It has a sting—
          Ah, too, it has a wing.

This post is dedicated to the mysterious Tumblr god(s) who helped Algy find so many new followers, and also to his special Tumblr friend in Australia veganmarley who loves every kind of creature and wants to know more about the West Highland bumble bees xoxo

[Algy is quoting the poem Fame is a bee (1788) by the 19th century American poet Emily Dickinson.]

Autumn had come to the West Highlands, with its subdued, watery light. All the world was hushed, except for the cries of the sea birds calling to each other on the shore; it was a perfect afternoon for quiet contemplation. As Algy perched on a rock by the silver sea, watching the slowly ebbing tide, he thought about all his friends around the world, and especially of those who lived a long way inland – far, far away from the ocean that he loved:
          A thousand miles beyond this sun-steeped wall              Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand,              The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land          With the old murmur, long and musical;          The windy waves mount up and curve and fall,              And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,—              Tho’ I am inland far, I hear and know,          For I was born the sea’s eternal thrall.          I would that I were there and over me              The cold insistence of the tide would roll,              Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,—          Then with the ebbing I should drift and be              Less than the smallest shell along the shoal,          Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea.
[Algy is quoting the poem Sea Longing by the early 20th century American poet Sara Teasdale.]

Autumn had come to the West Highlands, with its subdued, watery light. All the world was hushed, except for the cries of the sea birds calling to each other on the shore; it was a perfect afternoon for quiet contemplation. As Algy perched on a rock by the silver sea, watching the slowly ebbing tide, he thought about all his friends around the world, and especially of those who lived a long way inland – far, far away from the ocean that he loved:

          A thousand miles beyond this sun-steeped wall
              Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand,
              The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land
          With the old murmur, long and musical;
          The windy waves mount up and curve and fall,
              And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,—
              Tho’ I am inland far, I hear and know,
          For I was born the sea’s eternal thrall.
          I would that I were there and over me
              The cold insistence of the tide would roll,
              Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,—
          Then with the ebbing I should drift and be
              Less than the smallest shell along the shoal,
          Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea.

[Algy is quoting the poem Sea Longing by the early 20th century American poet Sara Teasdale.]

This is the sound that Algy heard while he was sunbathing on the rock beside the burn.

It was a beautiful late September day, bathed in the hazy, golden light of the soft autumn sun. The northerly breeze was cold, but Algy found himself a sheltered perch on a flat rock by the peaty burn, and spent a happy afternoon just soaking up the warmth of the stone. The burn was low after several weeks of dry weather and – just like Algy – it was in no particular hurry to get anywhere. As Algy watched the play of reflected light on the rocks, and the wee bubbles trickling lazily past him, he remembered a poem about such a day:
          The thistledown’s flying, though the winds are all still,          On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,          The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;          Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.          The ground parched and cracked is like overbaked bread,          The greensward all wracked is, bents dried up and dead.          The fallow fields glitter like water indeed,          And gossamers twitter, flung from weed unto weed.          Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,          And the rivers we’re eying burn to gold as they run;          Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;          Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.
Listen to the sound of the trickling burn, exactly as Algy heard it while sunbathing on the rock.
[Algy is quoting the poem Autumn by the 19th century English poet John Clare.]

It was a beautiful late September day, bathed in the hazy, golden light of the soft autumn sun. The northerly breeze was cold, but Algy found himself a sheltered perch on a flat rock by the peaty burn, and spent a happy afternoon just soaking up the warmth of the stone. The burn was low after several weeks of dry weather and – just like Algy – it was in no particular hurry to get anywhere. As Algy watched the play of reflected light on the rocks, and the wee bubbles trickling lazily past him, he remembered a poem about such a day:

          The thistledown’s flying, though the winds are all still,
          On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
          The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
          Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.

          The ground parched and cracked is like overbaked bread,
          The greensward all wracked is, bents dried up and dead.
          The fallow fields glitter like water indeed,
          And gossamers twitter, flung from weed unto weed.

          Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
          And the rivers we’re eying burn to gold as they run;
          Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
          Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.

Listen to the sound of the trickling burn, exactly as Algy heard it while sunbathing on the rock.

[Algy is quoting the poem Autumn by the 19th century English poet John Clare.]

Today Algy has some special advice for anyone who may be feeling despondent or downhearted: go and play with your rubber duck (or swan) in a bath, and very soon you will be smiling again :-))
Have a happy and relaxing weekend, everyone xoxo

Today Algy has some special advice for anyone who may be feeling despondent or downhearted: go and play with your rubber duck (or swan) in a bath, and very soon you will be smiling again :-))

Have a happy and relaxing weekend, everyone xoxo

Anonymous asked: I always visit this blog when I need some cheering up or just if I want to smile!! I wish Algy the best of luck in all his future adventures in his simply idyllic home!!

Dear Anonymous, Algy was so thrilled to get your message :-) He is truly delighted to hear that his adventures cheer you up and make you smile. Your message has brought a smile to Algy’s face on a day when smiles were especially needed - thank you! Algy doesn’t know where you are in the world, but wherever you are, he sends you a fluffy hug, and wishes you too the very best of luck xo

Just like most “mornings after”, the day following the Scottish Independence Referendum dawned grey and dreich. There was scarcely a breath of wind on the moor, nor any sign of sun in the sky, and Algy was feeling decidedly limp. He draped himself over the remains of a blasted rowan tree, and gazed for some time at the calm water of the lochan. As he perched there in the stillness, watching nothing very much happening at all, he remembered a poem, which he dedicates to all his Scottish friends who are feeling disappointed and depressed today:
          Hold fast to dreams           For if dreams die          Life is a broken-winged bird          That cannot fly.
          Hold fast to dreams          For when dreams go          Life is a barren field          Frozen with snow.
[Algy is quoting the poem Dreams by the 20th century American poet Langston Hughes.]

Just like most “mornings after”, the day following the Scottish Independence Referendum dawned grey and dreich. There was scarcely a breath of wind on the moor, nor any sign of sun in the sky, and Algy was feeling decidedly limp. He draped himself over the remains of a blasted rowan tree, and gazed for some time at the calm water of the lochan. As he perched there in the stillness, watching nothing very much happening at all, he remembered a poem, which he dedicates to all his Scottish friends who are feeling disappointed and depressed today:

          Hold fast to dreams
          For if dreams die
          Life is a broken-winged bird
          That cannot fly.

          Hold fast to dreams
          For when dreams go
          Life is a barren field
          Frozen with snow.

[Algy is quoting the poem Dreams by the 20th century American poet Langston Hughes.]

It was a very important day for Scotland. This was expected to be the busiest day ever in Scottish electoral history, with an exceptionally high level of turnout, so Algy felt that he ought to be right there on the spot, making sure that everything went smoothly. The local polling station was open from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m., but as there were only about 190 registered voters in this remote area – and a third of those were voting by post – activity was not exactly frantic …
Fluffy birds had not been granted the right to vote in the Scottish Independence Referendum, so Algy could only provide moral support on this occasion. He flew the five miles or so to the polling station, and found himself a perch which was prominent, if not exactly comfortable. He then devoted all his energy to encouraging the local electorate with appropriate quotations from Shakespeare, such as this famous speech from Julius Caesar:
           There is a tide in the affairs of men.           Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;           Omitted, all the voyage of their life           Is bound in shallows and in miseries.           On such a full sea are we now afloat,           And we must take the current when it serves,           Or lose our ventures.
Algy is thinking of all his friends in Scotland today, and sends you all extra special fluffy hugs from the West Highlands xoxo
[Algy is quoting a speech from Act 4 Scene 3 of the play Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare.]

It was a very important day for Scotland. This was expected to be the busiest day ever in Scottish electoral history, with an exceptionally high level of turnout, so Algy felt that he ought to be right there on the spot, making sure that everything went smoothly. The local polling station was open from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m., but as there were only about 190 registered voters in this remote area – and a third of those were voting by post – activity was not exactly frantic …

Fluffy birds had not been granted the right to vote in the Scottish Independence Referendum, so Algy could only provide moral support on this occasion. He flew the five miles or so to the polling station, and found himself a perch which was prominent, if not exactly comfortable. He then devoted all his energy to encouraging the local electorate with appropriate quotations from Shakespeare, such as this famous speech from Julius Caesar:

           There is a tide in the affairs of men.
           Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
           Omitted, all the voyage of their life
           Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
           On such a full sea are we now afloat,
           And we must take the current when it serves,
           Or lose our ventures.

Algy is thinking of all his friends in Scotland today, and sends you all extra special fluffy hugs from the West Highlands xoxo

[Algy is quoting a speech from Act 4 Scene 3 of the play Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare.]