The Birds

My friend Citizen Puttinggreen the golf journalist recently expressed relief that he could 'just about notice the days getting longer. Spring will be here soon. Have faith.' I did say that there was a certain sense of inevitability about the arrival of Spring (notwithstanding unusual conditions in some years as Rasputina remind us), but it is indeed true, even though January is not yet out and Lent is more than a fortnight away (thankfully - years when you lurch straight from Candlemas to Lent are especially hard to get your head round).

As I went down the hill to church yesterday morning for early Mass I was surrounded by a cacophony of birdsong. It shot little sharp arrows of music around the chilly, silent houses. All the figures suggest that there are far fewer birds around than there used to be, which makes one wonder what they sounded like as the sun rose when they were at their former strength. Hearing them brings the comfort of knowing that you and your own concerns are not the centre of the world's attention, which is probably the most useful service nature provides us (apart from keeping us alive).

Of course before long that morning choir will advance earlier and earlier into the day, until the pesky little things are waking me up long before I need to be ...