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.
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