As one suddenly opens the door into the garden there
is movement everywhere of big birds flying off. The
place is full of excited, emotional blackbirds and
thrushes. I have found a hen blackbird sitting on her
nest. She is in a tangle of boughs of a crab-apple
tree in the hedge and so intent is she that I can
go close to her. She sits so immovable that she might
be carved of wood. Even her eyes remain motionless.
There is some unanalysable emotion in her pose, her head
thrown well back, her beak pointed upwards in a challenge
of patience. Her breast is puffed forward and full, her
body fits the nest all around, that her eggs may be kept
warm. At the same upright angle as her beak sticks her
tail, outwards from the nest. She seems so proud and
tender and gentle; and still her eyes are motionless.
I wonder if she is petrified at my nearness, or whether
the instinct to keep the eggs warm is stronger even
than the instinct of self preservation. I am deeply moved,
although I cannot explain to myself why it is so. I feel
as though I have been privileged in seeing her.
An excerpt from "Four Hedges A Gardner's Chronicle"
written and engraved by Claire Leighton.
This book has recently been republished from the 1930s
original. The writing and engravings are so evocative
of the quiet natural beauty of the garden and nature.
Sometimes the old garden books are the best.
