In remembrance, but also joy that will blossom again

Oh Joy! It wasn't quite that first day of spring feeling, but not far off.

- by Roy Edmonds

The other day I looked out toward the 'wild woodland grove' of our garden and saw - a blackbird.

It was between showers and sunlight picked out the brilliant black plumage and strikingly yellow beak. He was perched, encouragingly to us, on our gates, perhaps considering a feed of our fat-balls on the ivy-clad fencing, or from the seed holder hanging provocatively from a wisteria and honeysuckle covered arch. (I confess the former creeper is artificial, but the latter one is real.) Then it flew into a neighbouring sycamore. Still, it's been back since, having a look around.

I mention all this as months ago we noticed all our garden birds had disappeared.