Blackbird as Teacher

As Imbolc arrives, the mornings grow lighter, buds fatten on the fruit trees, and Blackbird starts singing again, I am reminded of my morning ritual as Spring arrived a year ago. Straight out of bed, I put sweater and warm track pants over my pyjamas, then my Harris Tweed overcoat, scarf and cap. At the front door, I pause, listen to the birds, look up at the first sunlight shining through the row of trees across the road, then walk along the driveway to the start of the lane which runs alongside the Crescent walled gardens toward our orchard. At this point I pause to say, ‘All my relations’ out loud, to remind myself that all things are connected, that any merit derived from my morning ceremony is for the benefit of all beings. Then I walk up the lane reciting the mantra ‘Walking the Green Earth’ in the rhythm of my footsteps.

With the old stone walls to my left and the Avon valley to my right, I look out over the city and west across the River Severn to Wales and the Black Mountains. I notice the moment of sunrise, the changing light it brings on the trees, with the morning song of blackbird, robins, wrens, and chiffchaff filling my ears. Arriving at the Orchard, I retrieve the key from a crack in the wall, swing open the gate, walk through the portal, bow to the Orchard, and walk around the periphery, acknowledging the four sacred directions. Having finally arrived, I settle in a chair to be present with all that is around me.

Each morning this is an intentional encounter with the Land where I dwell. I sit, attend to my breath, watch, and listen.

As usual, there’s a stream of worry thoughts running through my head; I seek that discipline that allows them to skitter along over the top of awareness without paying them too much attention, while opening to a deeper sense of place. I take in the Land and the Sky. I watch the trees and the blossom and the cowslips and the buttercups. I follow the birds as they fly across: Magpie, Blackbird, Crow, Jackdaw. Will I experience that mysterious shift from everyday consciousness, looking out from inside my skull? Will I lift the veil of separateness and feel myself as part of, intimate with Land?

Then Blackbird arrives
	sudden and unexpected
low over the high south wall
	skimming the capping stones
dropping down, bouncing
	as if on a cushion of air
swooping up sharply	
	to graze the north wall
settling high in the Ash tree.

All this in one charismatic move
	elegant, poised, just so.

Shocking me 
tearing open the veil
             demanding my full presence
             in the flow of Life.

I sit a little while longer, savouring the moment. Gradually, the wonder subsides, I return to an everyday consciousness. It is time to walk back down the path to get dressed properly for the day.

The Jackdaws insisted, “We are teachers too”. Photo Peter Reason