Spirit of Delia?

07.05 this morning. I'm sitting up in bed with my usual cup of tea watching the BBC TV news when there's a loud knocking from downstairs. What less than lovely person can be calling on me at this hour of a Sunday morning? I jump up, don my dressing gown, hurry down and open the front door. Nobody! I go to the back (kitchen) door, again nobody there. Halfway back upstairs there comes more knocking. Definitely the back door. Wierd. I creep down and peer through the kitchen window.

There's Sammy, my visitor, standing on the wheelie bin, hard yellow beak banging, literally banging the porch window.. Dee called the bird 'Sammy' because, she explained, that name would fit either gender of common gull. But this particular gull is anything but common and has not resorted to that same trick for its breakfast since - since at least a year ago when, as a result of my imploring Dee not to humor Sam with any more food in case we had to replace broken window panes he or she absented him or herself in ill-disguised ill-humour, obviously in search of a more profitable source of scraps.


So now, a year later, here he or she is again. It must be Sammy. And I think 'it' is 'she'. Very slightly smaller than the male of the species. With one final crack on the porch window she takes off, calling that demanding seagull call as if; 'Where's my breakfast?' If you've ever seen a common gull in rapid take off at two metres range you'll know the surprising size and the unsurprising beauty of the bird. Of course I have to sort out some far from out of date scraps from the bread bin and the fridge, including the left over prawns from last evening's dinner . Lucky old Sam. Stupid old me. She will return.

Now here's my own flight - a flight of fancy. If you read my blogs, the ones written after carrying out Delia's wishes by consigning her ashes, half to Loch Ewe and half to The Solent, you'll know that on both occasions seagulls circled overhead. Actually, for the half to the Solent please read a quarter. One of our sons and one of our grandsons couldn't be present back in the winter, so I'd left the last quarter of the ashes with Rudi awaiting a time when they could convene. Well, just an hour or two ago Rudi called to say that he and his brother and our grandson had got together this morning to scatter the very last of their mother / grandmother in that same appointed place in the Solent ... 

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."  (W Shakespeare: Hamlet)

Rudi was calling me from a pub in Gosport called The Jolly Roger, the pub in which Dee worked when first we met ...

Whatever, I shall keep on feeding the lovely Sammy Seagull.

1 comment:

  1. Lovely. I agree with you. I'm certain Sammy was sent.

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