https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=55oURTjPqEE

I was in my usual weekend morning spot without the coffee https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2634720826749879873 this morning, gazing out on the hard frost and light on the shed. It was roughly the same time that I got the news of his death. I cried into a towel (saves on tissues).

If I hadn’t known the date I probably wouldn’t be remembering. It’s not that I don’t think of that moment. I do from time to time. Memories, thoughts, feelings ... they all crowd in, jostling.

That feeling of grief. What is it? What is it really? And is it now what it was before? Of course not. I am not who I was. Another has come and gone since then. Another loss, another grief. And all the other things that leap onto the bus. I remember how I used to run for the bus and jump on (when they used to be open at the back).

I look out and watch and wonder at the shadows of all the birds flitting across the shrubs cast in the bright light against the shed ... like all those glancing thoughts and feelings. Suddenly I realise I haven’t fed the birds yet this winter and it’s bloomin’ freezing. I set to.