Ti ann am muga and a single leaf of spinach

It is the hungry time of year. A sparrowhawk and another hawk were seen in the garden. I think they were looking for worms--I've been told despite their hunting prowess that the diet at least for the hawks that sit looking fierce on the fence posts along the road are actually worms. And the garden birds have been devouring the seeds on and around the bird table.

the wooden table-tree sitting proud

above stunted, whip-like trees

their leaves fodder only for the wind

Oh look a chaffinch

visitors single out favourites from the flutter of wings

you have a blue tit a robin or

I used to know the name

and always

there’s a blackbird

For her their names are their own

it was enough to know they were hungry

scoop by scoop she fed the tree, the birds, herself

knowing there would always be more hungry birds.

Like the poet persona, I've filled the bird table once already today. And watered the seedlings and tidied the kitchen and made the lunch and now it all needs doing again, but I take a CD-length break.

Today it's Yo Yo Ma on his cello with the soul of the tango. The richness of the music helps to feed my own hunger. As does the tea and the knoweldge that after 90 some days of DuoLingo I can say tea in a mug in Gaelic.

Anxiety is a kind of hunger gnawing away at us all just now. I try to keep myself busy. The tea and the music and enforced leisure are meant to be an antidote. Years ago my brother bought a static electricity generator. It was a relic from a time when electricty was thought to be helpful for all kinds of maladies. He experiemnted on me (of course..what are sisters for?). I dutifully held a handle from each side of the machine in my chubby hands while he cranked. The feeling of the low level of electricity coursing through me is how I often feel these days, except I can't drop the handles or make the generating stop.

Despite the music, I begin thinking of all the things that need doing--fill the table again put laundry on the line what will I make for tea will it stay dry enough for a walk what did I want to remember to add to Wednesday's grocery list? Is it safer to get cash from village post office or the ATM?

And I am rescued by one of my cats. She curls up on my lap and obliges me to be still for her sake. In that stillness,  the music makes its way in and smooths the electric hum of my fretsome self.

In the calm I think of the spinach in the cold frame. Almost big enough to take a leaf from each of the baby plants. And I have pots of younger ones waiting in the wings. We cannot do or make everything for ourselves, but we can take up arms against the hunger. One leaf at a time.