We met one morning, early.
A frozen surprise, a brief encounter!
Our gaze was across the green.
He looked at me, our thoughts transparent
Transfixed we stood, a brief moment!
Then, with a nervous twitch of tail feathers
He flew to gable end, a brief vantage point.
His courage renewed, his song broke the silence.
A brief serenade.
I do so much love watching the birds that frequent the bird feeder just outside my front room window. Since I put it up, a variety of the feathered visitors have come regularly to entertain with their comical antics. Watching a small family of long tail tits figure out how to get to the bird seed was hilarious. This morning it was a very cunning squirrel, who made a daring leap out of the bushes to reach the newly replenished fat block. I was quickly out with the loppers to make sure he did not succeed again.
However it is the robin and robins in general that intrigue me most with their steady eye and curious boldness. I am often accompanied by these red-breasted fellows on walks through woods, or as the poem indicated, when I leave the house in the morning. Perhaps they are guiding me to find a key? A key that would open the door to a garden, a secret garden long forgotten? A garden that once was beautiful and full of love and joy, but pain and disappointment locked shut? Perhaps the reason that I love robins is that they remind me to keep my heart open, to remember that life comes in seasons. Spring always makes things beautiful and gardens, even secret locked ones, can be tended back to life.
Note to self – Learn how to take photographs of birds.