Sitting in the summerhouse, listening to a trill (I could say a thrill) of tweets, croaks, piped and fulsome whistling song of the birds; all seems right with the world. This, after a most reluctant transformation from bed-dweller, lacking in self-affirmation, to house and garden roamer, seems nothing short of a miracle. Yesterdays emotions took quite a heavy toll on my preparedness for the new day and, indeed, little short of an overwhelming terrified sense of aloneness.
Performance of the most simple task began to feel like an insurmountable obstacle, but just as a (claustrophobic) fear of utilizing the new shower room can most likely be resolved by changing the door to open outwards rather than inwards, there are no doubt obvious solutions to other fears which, in any case, are not problems when my reserves of physical & emotional stamina are at their normal restricted plateau.
Anyway, the abundance of birdsong proffers a temporary renewal, and I enjoy watching the avian visitors to our various feeding stations. Lots of starlings from fledgling to mature, a goodly number of blackbirds and house sparrows, the occasional goldfinch and, this morning (a first for many months) a bullfinch, are among today’s visitors At least the feathered community travel to me; the only effort required from yours truly is to open my ears and eyes.