Homing Instinct

19th February 2013

My morning dribbles away in half completed tasks and tangents off the to-do list...much better to walk with my husband in the sunshine ....in a sheltered bird sanctuary where the Canada geese are massing and squawking on the flooded banks of the estuary. They know exactly what to do ..... insticntively ....no procrastination and question in their ranks.....they know when it’s time to fly and when it’s time to rest.

Taking photos I drop  one of my blue woollen gloves......don’t realise till my hands are purple cold and I can’t feel my finger on the shutter. We turn back and re-trace our steps, past the Robin, and the crocus, past the ivy seed head and the blue sailed boat, past the blackheaded gulls in the mud, hopeful. We both see it lying in the middle of the road, a small blue flag, with car tyre marks across it, wet but wearable. Returned to its twin.

Later I cut through the tough grey skin of the prince of all squashes, slice fat orange discs and roast them in olive oil. My sister is coming to supper. I notice how quickly I can work when I have a deadline, and like the geese, I don’t hesitate when I’m in the zone of just knowing what to do.... with a knife in my hand, my apron on..... listening to my homing instinct.