To fling our soul

Wednesday, 20th May 2020

What a mixed morning it has been but perhaps all mornings and lives are mixed! Promises, or should I say forecasts, of sunny weather even here in Scotland seemed to be false, inaccurate or misguided. I had woken at 4.30am to the strident sound of an amorous blackbird or was he/she irate or simply in usual mode with a piercing voice. I loved the sound and fell back to sleep happily. By 10am my routines had swung into action and I was seated in the drawing room overlooking a calm, silvery Tay with my mugs of tea. I was thrilled to see swallows swoop by, then a cormorant, some oyster catchers and a heron. I noted the irate blackbird perched on the top of an apple tree in the garden next door but he seemed subdued compared to the gossiping sparrows. 

A clink at the front door brought some mail and some reality. A few letters and a parcel. People are so kind....the parcel contained three masks, one made from a T shirt, another from an airline eye coverage and the third was from a pharmacy. To lessen the impact of the news behind the masks was enclosed a scrumptious box of chocolates. Next I opened a letter telling of the death of a friend. She died three days before the anniversary of her 70th wedding day. A kind, witty, generous and intelligent friend to be much missed as our correspondence was great. Grief indeed.

After 11am breakfast, still in pyjamas, I ventured in to the garden. The recently planted plum tree was infested with green fly and maggot type crawlies. Its leaves had curled. The grass we only cut once a month and this has resulted in many bees and butterflies as well as scavenging birds. I looked for lady birds, the devourers of green fly! 

After my foray, back to iPad and emails and news. A belatedly published winners list of a local marmalade competition did not include my name!! No comment, rejoice for the others I muttered. Various emails. The sun came out as I turned to the news items. The good news was the lifting of pollution levels across the world so sights not seen were now clearly visible and air quality was good. 

Then I noticed an article. It started off with saying how behind every statistic and photograph is a real human, a real life, a real person and story. This story was of Rajan and Sanju Yadav and their two young children Nitin and Nandini. Rajan was a migrant worker in India and with the lock down he decided to return with his family to their village, some 1,000 kilometres away. They had been unable to get the Government rail tickets so they set out with their rickshaw type vehicle. It was a gruesome journey but they grew excited as they neared their village. A few kilometres from it a lorry ploughed in to the back of their vehicle and Sanju and Nandini were killed. Rajan's despair and grief were palpable and coruscating. 

Earlier I had been discussing poetry and my companion had pointed out Thomas Hardy's poem 'The darkling thrush' written on 31st December, 1900. It spoke to me in a voice I needed to hear and I quote the last two verses:

"At once a voice arose among

    The bleak twigs overhead

  In a full-hearted evensong

      Of joy illimited:

  An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

    In blast beruffled plume.

  Had chosen thus to fling his soul

    Upon the growing gloom.

  So little cause for carolings

    Of such ecstatic sound

  Was written on terrestrial things

    Afar or nigh around,

  That I could think there trembled through

    His happy good-night air

  Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

    And I was unaware"

Grief and despair haunt the world and hope is an option. Unexpectedly overwhelmed or suddenly out of control we need to call on reservations of human spirit...a knife edge of living so often. 

How do we chose, today, 'to fling our soul'?

#routine #royalmail #soul #twitchers #thomashardy #kindness #friends #emails #grief