Can there be love across species? It quickens my heartbeat to see these things of beauty, diving through the air on impossible spirals and curves, with their chests as proud as any emperor, and their song sliding down the sky like a coin for the musical clatter against the gold plate of your soul. England makes everyone a poet because the nature of Shakespeare, Blake, and Woolf is charged with a power I have never experienced before, and the real reason I have not yet returned to the Meditteranean.
Mr Blackbird eating the pomegranate seeds I left out in the garden for the birds.
Seeing him this morning made my day.