Cycled out into the mist this morning. Quite thick in places but soon burning up as the sun decided to rise. Came along a pathway lined with aged trees and bushes on one side. I had to pullover and sit there listening to the birds singing. A thrush was high in a tree overhead and difficult to spot. However I found him and watched him call for a while. Was he calling his mate, or maybe hers? He was too big to be new born anyhow. Flapping among the branches indicated a wood pigeon chasing off a rival, leaves and feathers falling as he made off over the school field. One of the birds then set to 'cooing,' possibly praising her brave mate. A young tit appeared, nipping quickly among the branches, feeding on whatever he found. A blackbirds sang high in another tree, possibly they are old oak trees but I am not sure. In and out of the branches birds flitted singing brightly, while in the distance the crows cawed to one another raucously.
A wonderful enjoyable short period of time. Listening to birdsong and watching them go about their business. If it becomes possible to add to these sights and sounds the fragrance of newly cut grass and of a wide variety of flowers and blossom, it is possible to imagine in some small way what heaven must be like. There will be no bad smell there, no rotten decomposing matter, just the best that we have here magnified multitudinous - if that is a word! Sunshine, birdsong, fragrance, how I love these small things. This year more than I have ever done, I appreciate them.