Friday 12th January 2018 - Garden Musings

The feeders by and on the crab-apple in the back garden are well attended these days. Birds were rarely seen in our first years here but it's been 13 now so I guess familiarity and the maturing of the gardens hereabouts has facilitated this welcome development. That and the courage borne from tacit acceptance of the human interlopers in their environment.

Dianne provides them with a veritable feast of assorted nuts, seeds, fat balls & kitchen leftovers. Tits, Robins, Chaffinch, Sparrows, Wren, Magpie, Rook & the obligatory throngs of chattering Starlings are all regulars; Wagtails less so; Pigeons more so. A particularly plump pair, with the air of cargo planes, seem to have taken up permanent residence, appearing without fanfare at first light before fading away at dusk.They perch all day on a convenient branch to gorge, without having to move more than a neck muscle or beak, while looking upon the feverish activity of the tits with bemusement. Our bewilderment is in their ability to achieve flight.

These days the tree is festooned with and much of the garden embellished by assorted solar lighting which radiates all night during the summer to turn the back yard into a fairy grotto but flickers weakly into life for the briefest of moments during the English winter before fading into the blackness.

I worked somewhat yesterday in the daze that persists in the aftermath of a migraine and so the day wasn't completely wasted. The diary was left aside since no clear thought would enter my head -  it seemed the harder I tried to force an idea into the conscious the thicker the walls became, so I eventually had to accept my fate. Maybe this is what writer's block is. Must stop trying and just let it happen naturally. If inspiration visits there's always a device to capture it on before it escapes, or pen and paper on the desk.

For completeness..........

The first of the utility bills has arrived, so palpitations and dark thoughts - not today, though, as Dianne is excited to receive guests this afternoon and I've almost made it to another weekend, so Della may visit.

More regrets - I'll never draw anything worth hanging on a wall, take a great photograph, write anything readable, failed the family and myself etc. etc.