When you open your bedroom curtains and there’s a sparrowhawk in the garden it feels like it’s going to be a pretty special day. Seeing such a bird of prey in one’s urban back patch is almost palpable; in the sense that its wildness brings out the wildness in you.
I called the boys to show them the spectacle and we marvelled at it’s bullet-like body, speckled breast of brown and white chevrons with no midline stripe signifying a juvenile (less than one year old), hooked beak (not unlike my own) and yellow feet together. Accipiter nisus, Spearhafoc, predator of smaller birds such as finches, tits, sparrows and even pigeons and magpies. Hypnotist of humans desperate to spread their wings.
As it happened today began well, quickly got stressful – the anticipation/worry of going back to school in a week (the kids) and the need to get back to work with vigour (me) and stop making running a school cum catering company all day long creating double tension – and then turned into one of those perfect storms that then sets the tone for the rest of the week to come.
I heard it said once that seeing a hawk is a calling to tap into your inner warrior, summoning up all the courage and strength you need to journey ahead. I certainly feel that way and I can tell the boys do too but we’re all just flapping around in limbo. Although the day went wrong as days sometimes do, I’ll be bearing that in mind.
Also bought some compost and planted some daffodils to mark 1 March and St David’s Day. A note to self that flowers bloom in storms too.