This morning I stood transfixed watching a mama blackbird flying to and fro and back to the nest she is building in the clematis near my bedroom window. How lovely to see this bird fly off and return again and again, her beak full of twigs and hay (stolen from the nearby stables). I am privileged that she has chosen to be in my garden. The nest is a promise of things to come, of anticipation. The bird has chosen a spot that faces due east- is this significant? Better than due north which is always freezing in this country and nothing fruits or flowers when planted in that position. West catches the setting sun which is cold and south retains heat the best. But the morning sun is the most tonifying to both plants and humans, and it would seem, birds.
An hour later I stood near the corpse of another baby badger that had been hit by a car and had crawled onto the raised verge to die. I watched his little corpse, the way he had bent his legs as if he had been in terrible pain, the bloodied snout and the contorted face.
The beginning is also the end.