I lift my camera each time a different bird flits onto the
water feature to catch some of the cool trickles on this warm summers day. A
blue- tit swoops onto the fountain and shakes and splashes its wings. If a bird
could smile then this little tit would be gaily grinning as it swishes in the
water. I grin too.
Another familiar song drifts into the branches of our golden
bamboo. I listen. A juvenile robin takes its turn and stands with water
dripping off its beak…
A blackbird hops along the lawn looking for dropped
sunflower seeds as the inexperienced feeders miss their own beaks. He too then jumps into the water like a child wanting its turn in the paddling pool…
I have no idea of time. No idea how long I sit and listen.
And watch mesmerised as these wonders of nature gracefully and musically shower
my afternoon with mindful joy.
It has been a tricky week. A week of more seizures and hospital
visits. A week of stress and new tablets. I am having to swap one of my epilepsy
drugs which I have been on for eleven years. I am scared.
I am swapping because, like the number of birds in our
garden, my seizures have dramatically increased. Waves of nausea, a scrambled
egg brain and tears roll on and on like waves in the sea. When I rest, my left
leg is shaken by electric shock tremors which shoot through my foot. Strange
whooshes often disturb my calmness as they pass through my brain like a soundless train; in one
ear and out the other…
And my stomach-churning fear of the dreaded tonic clonic seizures
deciding to take their turn is as constant as these baby birds hunger.
So how ever much time I have spent sitting, listening and
watching the birds. I thank them for the gift of stillness they have given me
today.
