visitors
on being a good host
Hello. This post is about Death & Birds.
David has been away this week and so I have been tasked with the early morning seed distribution at home. This might sound relatively simple but David is acutely familiar with the needs & preferences of our feathered co-inhabitants, and so I’ve a strict list of instructions to follow: don’t let the Starlings dominate the yellow feeder, the Blackbird eats alone by the vegetable patch, the Robin will eat from your hand, there are two spots on the lawn that the Crows like to eat from, if there are little Birds waiting in the apple tree make the Collared Doves move etc. I endeavour to be a good host.
The invisible roots of my family tree grow out from my back and shoulders, forming an ever expanding fan of mycelium-like relation which reaches far beyond the familial. It spans out to every person, every tree and every Bird I’ve ever met, touched or held. There are some people in this web who I wish to deny, to cut out, just as there are parts of me that I wish to deny and to cut out, but the more I accept and forgive things for being just as they are, the better able I am to witness, and withstand, beauty.