...is still on my mind.
Perhaps it is because I am feeling a little rough - I was run down before I had my second COVID-19 jab and I followed the jab with three days of rather challenging shifts, with a shift pattern no one would choose. Consequently, I am feeling my age. My 'running' is very definitely a middle-aged woman trot. And I am noticing the sags in my body with more equanimity than before. I care less.
This low energy and low mood feeling is hard to overcome. And yet I guess that the animals around me do remain some kind of solace.
This morning when I went into the conservatory a blue tit flew at the window - not into the glass: he sort of hovered outside, looking in. Now, my friend says he was challenging his reflection. My father says he was eating insects caught in spiders' webs around the frame. But I think he was catching my attention. When I looked at him, he flew to the bird feeder and sat on it disconsolately. It turned out that all the bowls were empty. I filled it but did not see the blue tit feed, just the fat squirrel and, later, the robin.
When I was out with the dog I saw three crows pecking at the soil. A fourth flew cawing over and landed about ten feet away. One of the three and this solitary bird began to approach each other in a sort of ritualistic fashion: some bobs, some sideways manoeuvres and then when they finally met all four birds rose into the air together and flew across the hedge to join another six crows in the adjoining field. It all seemed so purposeful.
I thought, once work is over, in July, I could get some binoculars and just watch the crows. Just watch the crows.
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