Breakfast Epiphany

Blearly eyed, unshaven and groggy, I wandered into the kitchen and threw back the curtains (rolled back the blind really), revealing a murky morning, mirroring my demeanour.


But all was quickly shaken off by the image that confronted me.

Not a naughty neighbour, caught in flagrante delicto, or an alien mothership waiting to take over North Tyneside ......... but a breath catching moment nevertheless!

Because right in the middle of the glass was a perfect image of a bird, caught in perfect freeze frame and looking just like a fossil.

The image was immaculate, every little detail of the feathers crystal sharp, the graceful arc of the wing - ironically the opposite of the clumsiness of a moment of collision caught like a photograph on the glass.


But I was immediately struck by that prehistoric similarity, a fleeting and chance record of millennia of evolution, resulting in the collared doves that occupy my garden. Sadly, one less now and not long before the rain or a window cleaners shammy removes this final memory.