Just Another Memory

The lapwings gather in flocks in the winter in fields gray with frost in the coldest time of year
And though it's been a while now since I've seen them their peewit calls I fancy I can hear
They always flew south in the colder weather when northern fields wore thick blanket of snow
In February and March I often see them when I lived north of here long years ago.

It's just a memory just another memory but Nature's memories with us seem to stay
The lapwings voices rang out in the stillness when all other birds were silent and the fields looked gray
With cuck on head and darkish green wings and white breast feathers they searched for food in the old fields all day
Till by late March the urge to breed it came upon them and April found them many miles away.

From their old wintering fields in Duhallow they raise their broods and their survival insure
And the next Winter their young with them would return to the fields of Claraghatlea and Annagloor
In large flocks they always seemed rather restless and they flew off if man or dog came near
But on their breeding grounds they become more aggressive and to protect their young they lose all of their fear.

It's just a memory just another memory but Nature's memories are so dear to me
In the old field beside the babbling river they run about I fancy them I see
And though many years have passed since I've last seen them the memories of the past with me remain
In February on a cold and a frosty morning I hear the lapwings calling out again.