It was one of those encounters that bring a little unexpected joy to the day. Nothing much… just a shared smile… something I’m missing at the moment. Seeking relief from the heat, I had wandered into the shade of my son’s back garden while I waited for him to finish in the bathroom. Plonking myself in the chair, I realised I was being watched… from about the requisite two metres, of course. Which may seem like a lot when you greet someone, but is not very far when it is all that separates you from a wild bird.
The blackbird showed no inclination to depart. I wondered, from his stillness, if he might be injured… the local cats like to sunbathe in this spot. He seemed bright enough, though, preening and fluffing his feathers, before hopping down from his perch onto a wider stage. He certainly didn’t mind my presence, not even when I was obliged to shout through in answer to my son’s call.
I think he was hot too, as he paraded up and down behind the woodwork, bill open. But he looked rather comical, and, with the constant eye contact, seemed almost as if he was hamming it up for his audience.
It wasn’t much… just a few minutes complicity with a common garden bird… but those moments of shared and willing contact with another species changed the mood of my day from grey to sunshine.