It really is quite amazing how some simple sights can massage the “aahh” gland of the world weary cynic. Somehow the most clichéd image of sweetness can soften the hardest of hearts.
Having struggled to meet the deadline for emergence from the duvet lair, a bleary eyed Heterocon shuffled downstairs, aching in every sinew, already ill at ease with the rain sodden day, when my gaze focussed on the garden fence. A little row of sparrows, two of them with wings churring and bills agape, impatiently awaited the attention of the accompanying parent. Next, the mini-squadron discovered a new roost on the roof of the bird table and, for a few minutes I watched enthralled, forgetting my sundry ailments, as the “aahh” gland went into overdrive.
Basking in the warmth of this avian activity, the cynic in me awaits the swooping hawk to throw me back into reality. For the moment, I shudder at the thought and, return to simple pleasures.