The sparrows are arguing on the bird feeder, the fox has returned and sits staring at me from his perch on the naked fence. The Spanish bluebells are forcing themselves defiantly through the sodden earth and the jewelled wallflower, that reminds me so much of my Grampy, desperately tries to add a little joy to this grey and dismal time of year.
But it is a robin that has filled me with wonder and delight. The first robin I have seen in my garden since I moved in two years ago. But why now?
Last week one of my dearest friends Lesley died of Acute Myloid Leukaemia. A woman I had known for 50 years. A woman who was more than a sister to me, more than an aunt to my children. Understandably, I have ‘not been myself’ (as my mother would say) these past few days, living in a universe I have problems coming to terms with and a reality that seems cruel, lonely and far less fun without her.
Then along comes this robin with its cheeky attitude and smart outfit, it’s beak full of food for its young. So like Lesley.
I do not believe in an afterlife or reincarnation but suddenly in this little visitor, I see my friend. Encouraging me to see the beauty in nature and to have faith in the future. Reminding me of the need to be strong for my children and grandchild. The importance of continuing my work as a writer and teacher, inspiring others to believe in themselves and achieve more in life than they ever thought possible. As Lesley encouraged me. She was one of the first I would ring when I’d written a piece for publication saying, “Can I read this out?’ and I knew she would say yes and I’d get an honest and thoughtful response.
I first met a robin with special powers as a child, reading Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden. That robin helped the neglected and unloved orphan Mary, by pecking in the patch of earth where the key to the secret garden had been buried. Enabling her to unlock the place that became her sanctuary and to regain her trust in the world.
Whenever I get cabin fever, especially if the weather is dire, I drag myself to the local patch of green to breathe in the fortified air of the trees. I discovered years ago that this is called Shirin Yoku or forest bathing therapy and I recognise the remedial effects on guests I take on the hikes on my writing retreats in the Sierra De Aracena, under the sweet chestnut and cork oats. My days working for a walking company showed me how people communicate easier when walking side by side in nature, not sitting face to face. Hearts open and secrets are shared.
Since my childhood days on my parents’ allotment in Hampshire, the natural landscape has been an escape for me, providing a stillness and peace that was difficult to find in a crowded family home
Thank you little robin for giving me so much comfort and reminding me once again of what I love in my life and the importance of carrying on.
Photo of robin by Paul Nash
Photo below of Lesley
