MOTH and I took a gentle, state-sanctioned, walk the other day. It was a glorious morning, ice and frost had sugared everything to white and the sky was that wonderful bright blue that seems so particular to winter. As we passed under trees that were in the sun, we were rained on by tiny frozen pellets as the ice melted enough from the branches to fall in crystal droplets, but not enough to turn to liquid.
It was obviously a day that had caught a lot of people’s attention and although I generally avoid social media most of the time, beautiful photos of walks popped up everywhere. It felt as if, for a day at least, there was a shared excitement of the beauty of nature rippling through a collective consciousness. Whether it was because we are once again being asked to stay home as much as possible or just the inevitable grasp at a nice day after bleak greyness and damp I don’t know, but so many people felt the magnificence in the day and went out to experience it. This, I feel, can only be a good thing, especially when we have all just undergone a universal global moment of, ‘what on earth’ with the happenings on the other side of the pond alongside our own home-grown recklessness. (That is as close as I will come to political ranting here, I promise.)
I had to take a quick break from writing to run downstairs and feed the birds. It was a hurried and early off today for my pre-chemo blood tests and I didn’t have time before going out. Goodness, do I feel the guilt if I forget to feed them or even just put their food out late. The sparrows barrel in and u-turn in a huff if they see the feeders empty, the starlings strut about the tray obstreperously pecking at the emptiness, the blue tits perch forlornly looking to where food is not – they certainly know how to show their feelings and frankly they do exaggerate, there are always fat balls and nut butter out as well.
I was very pleased to spot a new bird in the garden recently, a redwing. As well as it being a great year for fungi, there has been an abundance of berries this winter; hawthorn, pyracantha, holly and cotoneaster, particularly and the birds have been gorging. According to the RSPB, the redwing is the UKs smallest true thrush, looking very similar but with a blush of red under the wing. They visit in the winter months and they love berries. There is a possibility I may be mistaken and it is a fieldfare, but I am holding out that I am right if only because it would be nice to be. I’m pretty sure though that I have seen the bold stripy chest of the redwing through my binoculars, the using of which always makes me feel like I am the proverbial nosy neighbour, which I am, it’s just I’m only interested in the birds.
On another short walk, my mum and I came across a small and very neat nest perched among some scrub and brambles about a foot off the ground. It has been suggested that the nest was that of the chiff chaff – perhaps one of the most onomatopoeic of the birds. We also enjoyed the sight of a tree doing yoga or rather, what we think was a huge and old piece of ivy that had entwined the tree to make it look as if it were contorting itself into the tree yoga pose. It seems in lockdown, even nature is taking up hobbies.
It is a very odd feeling to wear a hat over a wig. I feel something like one of the changing guards with their large Bearskin hats or perhaps a little like Mary Antoinette with her eighteenth century pouffe (although without the parrot, fruit bowl, animals, toy ships or other novelty items) but with a great pomp of a towering edifice on top of my head. I know this is not actually what it looks like, in fact, I don’t think anyone would know there was anything out of the ordinary if it wasn’t mentioned, but it certainly feels as if there is rather a lot going on up there.
I don’t wear my wig every day, it is very tight and can get itchy and there is a strange feeling of being disingenuous; looking as if I have hair, when I do not. But, I have to admit it does give me a greater sense of ‘normality’ for a while when I do wear it, not having the glaring, ‘I have cancer,’ look going on. And it is definitely warm, which at the moment is a bonus. Perhaps to garner the mood I should embrace the look and add a redwing representation to my wig/hat combo.
