Sunshine and Scrambled Eggs

The only sound is a chorus of frantic tweets as baby goldfinches are fed by their parents eager to show them how to find their own food and water. A smile curls on my lips as I sit and listen. I am surrounded by the music of nature. Distant chatter of neighbours enjoying the sunshine is subdued by this joyful sound.

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.