This morning the first cuckoo. And I
feel excited as I always do when I hear that sound.
Life affirming and real. But ten minutes
later.....Aia!.......Minu, our youngest cat, drops a bird at my feet.
It's a gift of course so there is no point in getting angry, she
wouldn't understand. This little bird is still alive and I nestle her
in my hands for warmth and take her to my studio and wrap her in an old T shirt
to keep her temperature constant. And leave her there to recover. And sure enough she
does and I find her 30 mins later fluttering at the window and as I
go to gently catch her and liberate her, ...... Zak! Minu's mother leaps past me
and catches her in her mouth. She had somehow secreted herself into
my studio and had been waiting for her moment to strike. This time,
though, I am angry and shout at her and she drops the bird. So then
again I wrap it up again in my T shirt and place her on a table to
recover.
Fast forward three hours. We are back
from lunch and I head straightaway to my studio but she isn't
anywhere to be seen. So what can I do, I make sure no cats have got
back in and close the door to check again in an hour...Which is right
now!
Phew! You can put your kleenex away
because she is alive and perched on one of my paintings, which may be
a good omen for us both. And I've just checked on Google and will do
as instructed and release her in the morning because it is currently
raining and the sky is darkening. Just keep her warm and give her
time to recover, that's what I have to do
So, there you are, two bird stories to
start your day.
Update tomorrow after breakfast.
Next morning... Poor little bird died over night.
Cats are domestic sharks and now I am angry with them, although it serves no purpose to be so.
Worse still, I then find her mate dead outside our front door. They were Orphean Warblers, the first we have seen in our garden. They spent the days swooping and diving after each other, no doubt creating a nest in the trees nearby.
Such a wanton waste and a desecration of beauty and sheer goodness. An untimely and unnecessary loss of life
Lenny Henry writes this about Prince in this morning's Guardian
'Prince was about high stakes, love, hate, life and death - he was into extremes. In the song Sometimes it snows in April, from the Album 'Parade', he said
'Sometimes I wish life was never ending, but all good things, they say, never last'
He was the ultimate in good things. His creative legacy will last'
I've read, too, that in this last year Prince was working with incredible intensity, almost as if he was trying to beat the clock. One interviewer asked him what he felt about getting older and he said something like 'It's great as I am getting close to the source, my maker'
And when Guardian reporter visited him last year, he described spending the previous night just playing to himself for three hours without pause.
“I just couldn’t stop. That’s what you want. Transcendence. When that happens … Oh, boy.”
Cats are domestic sharks and now I am angry with them, although it serves no purpose to be so.
Worse still, I then find her mate dead outside our front door. They were Orphean Warblers, the first we have seen in our garden. They spent the days swooping and diving after each other, no doubt creating a nest in the trees nearby.
Such a wanton waste and a desecration of beauty and sheer goodness. An untimely and unnecessary loss of life
Lenny Henry writes this about Prince in this morning's Guardian
'Prince was about high stakes, love, hate, life and death - he was into extremes. In the song Sometimes it snows in April, from the Album 'Parade', he said
'Sometimes I wish life was never ending, but all good things, they say, never last'
He was the ultimate in good things. His creative legacy will last'
I've read, too, that in this last year Prince was working with incredible intensity, almost as if he was trying to beat the clock. One interviewer asked him what he felt about getting older and he said something like 'It's great as I am getting close to the source, my maker'
And when Guardian reporter visited him last year, he described spending the previous night just playing to himself for three hours without pause.
“I just couldn’t stop. That’s what you want. Transcendence. When that happens … Oh, boy.”
And they say the music was flowing out of him in
an unstoppable torrent,
Ah, such mixed thoughts this rainy morning. But the sky is clearing from the North and I will go and buy some flowers and bushes at a festival of flowers by the sea in Civitanova. And plant them in our garden
Michael and Michelle Rumney are running a workshop 'Time and Space to be Creative' in Assisi, Italy May 26 weekend.
Contact Michael for information
Contact Michael for information
We're on such a constant search for meaning aren't we? Strong emotions surface when things seem like a pointless waste and then again, you can't help finding beauty in everything somehow - thank you for sharing these.
ReplyDelete