birds

Nature Notes

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

So, I am back in Granollers and as I am finding it hard to feel settled and that is not an easy thing to write about, I decided to post some words about what is going on in the natural world.
Pathways
I am out walking Bonnie every day and as we meander along the paths which are edged with plastic bottles and beer cans and strange fluffy red sponge things, (it makes a change from the brambles and honeysuckle we were forced to endure in Lamorna), I try to find some way of encouraging my roots to sink down into the dusty earth.
Birds
It’s always good to watch the birds.
Amazingly the swifts are still here. Not so many, not so often seen but as of yesterday there was a crowd of them shrieking above the city.
By the river which is very low after a long and unusually hot summer, I saw a bird with a large yellow patch on its tail. I can’t identify it. I didn’t see it for long enough to describe it better. I looked  at images on Google and found one almost identical but it too had evaded identification and was only named ‘Bird with yellow marking on tail’ .
It was lovely though.
The heron is still feeding on the river in spite of the mass of floating plastic bags and we also saw fish – quite large ones – swimming near the bridge
Weather
At 6pm this evening the temperature was 24C. The last two days have been cloudy which has meant Bonnie and I could walk in the morning without having to get up at some unearthly hour to avoid the sun. It doesn’t really feel like Summer but neither is it Autumn yet.
The Streets
The trees have blossom in the streets around our home. Yet again I must confess to not knowing what sort of trees they are. The flowers are pink and large and plentiful. I have realised one tree near the house is a pear tree as it suddenly dropped lots of fruit on the pavement. Or was it someone with a broken bag coming home from the market?
The River
The most wonderful thing about the river just now is the field of yellow flowers on tall green stems. What on earth are they?  Surely not Jerusalem artichokes but they remind me of that kind of wild abundance.

Well, that is today’s nature diary.  I am ashamed of how much I don’t know the names of what I see. That somehow reflects my general feeling of ignorance at the moment. In answer to almost any question I feel the most honest reply is ‘I don’t know’

 

Heading South

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

The swallows are still here in Cornwall and so am I

but we all will be flying south very soon – or in our case we will be driving east then going through the Channel Tunnel and then heading south west through France.
It is always nice to stay until bramble time – or blackberry if you are English!

At last the sun is shining on them and making them sweet.

Mainly Blue

~ Kate Wilson ~ 9 Comments

I read a mindfulness website called Life Unity and on Monday, as always, they announced the task for the week.
It was called Notice Blue.  The suggestion is to be aware of Blue for seven days, the colour mainly but perhaps also the mood, the music, the dog

I added this to my list of serendipitous things which have been around me recently

Blue and Bonnie and I came a week ago to this beautiful country cottage near Figueres

We were refugees from the city life we were finding so hard to handle in Granollers.
We wanted peace, gentle walks, time to rest and tune into ourselves without cars and noise and concrete and an angry and jealous Duna.
We found somewhere perfect to do all this and more.
Somewhere perfect for Blue to spend the last days of her life

She had a strange fall before we left town.  I wondered it it was a fit or a stroke. Afterwards she was normal and we made the journey but some instinct told me she was moving into a new phase.

Here is Sant Nicolau. This beautiful place has his name and his sanctuary at the end of the drive. Remember he is the saint of present giving, of helping children.

As we arrived I had a feeling of coming home, of finding my place, of all the cells of my body saying “YES YES YES’
It is green and wooded, set on a plane with mountains in the distance

Birds are everywhere. Day and night there is always someone singing.
Every single night the nightingale calls to her friends…… every night!
I found this nestled in the fruit bowl

Blue must have relaxed too. She fell over more and more. Wobbly legs would take her outside into the little garden and then give way leaving her stranded.
She looked tired. Slept for hours. Seemed more detached from me and from the world. At other times she was alert as normal. Especially if there was a piece of ham being offered…..

The day before she died she came down the open field with Bonnie and me. We had a football and Blue suddenly wanted to play. I rolled it past her, she jumped on top, I kicked it away and she chased it a few steps. On and on and on. Then she stopped. Fell over. Got up again and turned for home. That was her last game and it was a good one.
Next day I decided to call the vet. The decision is always ‘When?’  I spoke to friends and read lots of accounts on the internet, feeling more and more sure that I didn’t want to wait till she was unable to move or suffering badly.
The wonderful owners of Sant Nicolau helped me in every possible way, accompanying us through the last hour, offering a place for Blue to rest, digging the grave and sharing a ceremony of goodbye.
It was all peaceful, the vet came in the afternoon and confirmed that it was for the best. Blue was calm and almost dreamy and not at all nervous.  It was over in moments and with no fear or pain.
She is now down here at the bottom of the field, just to the right of the little white building on the left.

Bonnie and I will stay here for a few more days. We don’t know what the future holds as we still have the problem of Duna’s jealous rages at home. But for now we are able to listen to the birds, read books from the house collection, swim in the pool and visit Blue where she lies at the bottom of the open field, under the apple trees.
Bye Bye Blue – you good dog you!

Old Birds

~ Kate Wilson ~ 4 Comments

It was a misty Cornish day when he arrived

I knew something was wrong but he wouldn’t let me get close.
It was good to see him keeping company with one of my birds.

I hoped he was taking comfort

The next day his body was in the field.   He didn’t seem seemed injured – just old.

He just died and I was a witness.

Sometimes I feel uncomfortable here

~ Kate Wilson ~ 6 Comments

Sometimes I don’t know what to write here. After all it’s not a diary and shouldn’t I be entertaining you?  But if my mood is ‘interesting’  or complicated then I have trouble knowing what to say or how to say it.

If you would like to see something funny that caught my eye tonight then here is a photo of a shrine by the side of the road. I don’t know what came first – the statue or the brickwork.

Here it is….

And if you are here because you like to know what is going on for me then this part is for you. If you prefer to read interesting cultural things then this bit might not be your cup of earl grey tea!

I am feeling uncomfortable in my skin

I don’t like the unsettling cloudy humid weather which spoils our plans to go to the beach or watch Life of Brian in the open air cinema.

I keep crying over little things.

I feel a failure at everything I try to do – I can’t drive like Catalan people, I don’t know how to use the Samsung phone, cooking is difficult, we are getting nowhere with finding a new home with a garden.  The resident adolescent still ignores me.  I can’t speak Catalan, understand Catalan, remember any words in Spanish, wear the right clothes,  look presentable in a photograph, etc etc

I went to a family meal and spent three hours at the dinner table in almost total silence. Half way through I lost my ability to smile and nod. Not much later I lost the will to live as my spirit left my body and floated somewhere up on the ceiling watching my abandoned body continue in some reflex way to lift the glass of cava to my mouth and drink…..too much.

Memories of the school playground

Remember at school those skipping games where you have to run in while the rope is turning, jump a couple of times and then exit without breaking the rhythm?   There were always scary girls who confidently popped in and out without any trouble.   I was not one of them.  I would stand at the entrance for ages, bobbing my head forward and back as I tried to find the right moment to make the move. Then I would chose the wrong moment and catch the rope on my ankles or around my neck.
This is how I feel when faced with groups of people speaking in Catalan in a social setting. The words are fast and constant. You need confidence to get in there.  And if you jump in at the wrong moment, the conversation stops, everyone looks at you as if you are stupid, and you just want to run away and hide.
And if you don’t try to jump in they look at you anyway,  asking ‘what’s wrong with you?’

I am too slow for so many things.

Driving for example. I love driving and taking to the road but I hate having to speed along because that is the ‘right’ way.  The ‘Catalan’ way.   I don’t like overtaking when there is a lot of traffic – somehow the same bobbing head syndrome kicks in and I have to take deep breaths before claiming my space in the fast lane.

My brain feels tired. I feel dizzy and muzzy.  I wake too early and go to bed too late.

I want to go HOME – but I don’t know where home is.

Many people have said to me that they couldn’t do what I am doing.

They couldn’t come and live somewhere different, learn two languages, have a new family and an adolescent step child in a different culture and begin all over again with work and friends and everything. Honestly in many ways it hasn’t been too difficult but….right now…..I’m not sure I can do it either.

I want to – but I am tired of feeling that I am always failing.

Is it because I am not good enough?  Perhaps the task is just too hard!

The swift that I tried to rescue wanted to fly.   Again and again she stretched her wings and launched off   into the unknown only to crash down head first onto the ground.  It was hard to watch but I loved her desire to survive.  Eventually she got tired and had to rest. In the end she accepted this, and let go to death.

She tried and failed and it wasn’t her fault – it was just too hard.   I feel very poised on this edge, facing this question, and although there are helpful hands around me, it is a lonely moment…..can I fly?

Now, for anyone who is still tuned in,  here is a lovely little car I saw on Carrer Corro last night. This is my kind of car, ideal for pootling along enjoying the journey without having to feel bad about not going faster or being bigger or more stylish or a different shape or colour

And especially for Oreneta, Bodhi, Christine, Pearl, Pepsi and all those who leave me messages,

this is for you