First entry of 2023 –
The winter festivities have reset me. The wheel has turned and as my predecessors and so many other people in the northern hemisphere have experienced and are now feeling, my gaze is turning towards the new year and the return of growth. Lying in bed at first light this morning and watching the robin dotting about the seed heads in the flower garden I am struck by the thought that my wonder and delight is a shared, joyous moment. My mother, grandmother, father, great grandfather will all have seen and savoured the sight of a winter robin on snow. I think of Tim Ingold’s rope analogy, of continuous and shared experience, of correspondences, of moments witnessed in this time and other times with, as he describes “astonished attention” or as my adult children would say “having a moment”.
As we crunch through the field in the low afternoon sun, the ice glistens and cracks. I notice small burrows, homes of small rodents who will be curled up tight to retain as much body heat as possible. A wren darts ahead of me, low in the hedgerow. I imagine the cave that she will return to nestle with her kin. I remember reading an observation of upto 17 tiny wrens huddling together in their roosting spot to enjoy the communal, life saving warmth. The wren’s rather ugly latin name Troglodytes Troglodytes gives a troll like impression. It is actually a reference to its cave dwelling habits. The stone walls here will be providing Wren with deep cave like spaces as homes.
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