The birdsong I hear in the early morning when I set out for my walk is getting noticeably louder. It is almost as if the blackbirds, and they are predominantly blackbirds are right outside our front door, overhead, on roofs and in the trees just by the house. And the volume had been turned up. It is the approach of Spring. It must be. They are feeling it. I don’t. Not yet, however much I want to. I never want to walk out into the dark but when I do the experience of being out there in that bleak black and among the bird noise and chatter is a rich one. I feel part of that ‘family of things’ that Mary Oliver writes about. I do.
