Call of the wild

I was standing in the garden this morning while I waited for Hector to decide where he had hidden his ball, when a sheet of crows flapped across the sky like they had been unpegged from a washing line a little way down the street. Low flying, noisy, yet organised, I actually flinched they came so close to me. A few moments later, they all landed as a single in unit in the trees at the other end of the street and sat up high watching us.

274 The Fox and the Crow.jpg

Meanwhile, in the tree that's actually in the garden, the lonely magpie that comes without fail every day sat shouting at us as well. When you listen to the world, it doesn't have to shout at you - this was the world talking to me and today, I knew what it was saying. 

There are times when you don't have a clue what the world is trying to offer - for me, it's normally when I've got my head in the clouds and think I'm busy being busy, but a few seconds of paying attention at the right time is worth a week of hard work. I've been trying to finish working on The Family Of Noise these last few days and had gotten to a point at which I couldn't decide whether to push the novel or pull it. After this mornings revelation, I see that pulling it is the better option. Pushing is hard and doesn't help anything flow but pulling is a totally different way to play.