The Beauty of Inflections

This post is an updated re-post from 2010, but puts well what I felt when I heard the blackbirds singing last night.

I was doing something as banal as putting a dirty nappy in the wheelie bin last night when my heart and stomach lurched as the sound of a blackbird filled the air. It is only when I hear the melodies after an absence of some time that I realise how much they are a part of the excitement of the renewing year.
Life can be measured by the singing of blackbirds; in February, they start to sing in the darkness of early spring mornings and evenings. As plants start to burst into life, the singing swells up to a crescendo in late spring and early summer. As my birthday approaches, the frequency of the sweet and mellow song starts to decline and on that day I know that the days are getting shorter and winter is on its way. A melancholic day.
Poets seem to have a soft spot for the bird, for example Wallace Stevens (from whom the title of this post comes), Tennyson, and Seamus Heaney.
So, last night I had a burst of spring time, a glimpse of lengthening days and the sound of hope. Perhaps you should too.

A brief intermission…

Thank you for your comments on the previous post. We are now out of hospital, and Thomas is doing well, but isn’t quite so keen to feed as his mum and dad are, but the midwives are keeping a close eye on him.

Thomas will be introduced to the garden as it becomes warmer, and he will need to learn how to weed pretty quickly, so he can help down at the allotment (that’ll put him off gardening for life!).

Blog posting will become even more sporadic than it has recently been, at least for a while. In the mean time, welcome to the world, little Thomas Samuel.

New arrival...

Thomas Samuel born at 5:39am on Saturday 4th February, weighing 6lb 2oz. Delivery was by caesarean but Sharon and Thomas are both doing well. They're likely to be in hospital for a few days. I'm a very proud father and I think Sharon is a hero!

Wordless Wednesday - Early arrivals