Memories Of The Dippers

The dark brown river bird with breast white as snow
The thrush sized dipper a bird i used to know
Of long before the tick of time became my foe
Though this is going back in years a few decades ago
Back then dippers were quite familiar to me
In the stream by my first home them i often  did hear and see
Known for their head bobbing habits and their loud scratchy song
Once seen and once heard one could not get them wrong
When i was a younger man from here far away
I heard and see them often though not every day
Where i grew to love Nature from here far away
Long before my dark brown hair turned to gray
And though the past may be gone the memories of it with me does stay
Good old memories die hard as the wise one does say.