“The Early Bird catches the worm” said Michelle to me when I bumped into her along the sea front, on this quite pleasant March Sunday morning.
Turns out it’s the early worm that catches the bird. In this case a tiny wren. I almost missed her as I got close back to home. A tiny brown blob that I glanced as I walked by on the pavement. I stopped briefly and noticed that the blob was made up of very still brown feathers.
The little wren looked stunned more than anything. She’d probably flown into a passing car windscreen. But she wasn’t very safe there on the pavement, and I picked her up, lighter than light she is, and placed her in a neighbouring garden. She flew up on to the wall right alongside, but didn’t move any further before I left her be.
Hopefully after a while she’ll recover, and be fine. No sign of external injuries anyway.
Life all around is tough, resilient, delicate and fragile. A ragbag of contradictions, to steal the stage nomenclature of my pal Chris.
But it applies to all of us, really.