Between the folds of dawn and dusk my world is shared.
Shared with pairs of rooks, magpies and hooded crows, mating’s often made for life. And then there are the starlings, most notably those who sit on next door’s TV ariel and even more noticeable is the starling who loves to neigh like a horse.
As for the one who mimics the whistle of a referee during a match, he had me searching out our road for a hidden human playing a prank, that is until I looked up.
Then there are the wagtails with their high pitched calls and the finches and tits, flashing’s of sounds and fleeting’s of colour.
Within their beginnings at dawn and endings at dusk, I share my space with each of these characters but as the sun sets, my garden becomes someone else’s world, a secretive layer of vibrancy held between the myriad shades of blacks and grey.
Giving up my world, I retreat indoors allowing these creatures carry out their nightly duties without me as an unwelcome silhouette. When at dawn, I tip from my sheets peering out into a new days sky, sometimes, just sometimes, I catch sight of one of those night time creatures hugging my fence line as he makes his way back to his hidden den, his waking hours ended, mine just begun.