Wednesday, 22 April 2020

Surreal times

No dawn chorus this morning.

As the light began to seep into the garden a figure appeared as if to mark the new day. 

It did nothing to lighten my mood.

And it hasn't moved for hours.

The feeders need topping up and the bowl needs refilling, but I'm not going out there. 

How I long for the days when the wildlife in the garden seemed less threatening.

No less bizarre, but definitely friendlier - look at that face.

I get a call from a neighbour. Apparently the queues at Iceland are getting shorter.

They still haven't quite got the hang of it though.

And there's still no chance of a home delivery, but there's word of a new p-p-p-pick up service.

At least it's Spring, and swifts can be seen again. 

I see one every day from my window.

It's odd though, because it's been in the same place every day since Christmas.

But then these are surreal times.

No comments:

Post a comment