A moment of quiet and calm

Sitting on a bench, you begin to feel the damp seeping through your trosuers and seemigly into your bones. There is still a little snow on the ground but it’s turning to ice now. It’s chilly out today and it will shortly be time to go in for a cup of tea you think. But first a moment more.

You are aware that your breathing has slowed and as you take another long breath in, the sounds of the reserve wash over you. The whoop of the swans, the whistle of the wigeon, the twittering of the chiffchaff. As with many dull and dreich days, the birds are out in full force despite the grey.

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whooper swan

And in their numbers, come their colours. The flash of marigold in a yellowhammer’s feathers as it flutter past. The peak of green under a female teal’s wing. The stark red of a robin breast against the snowy ground.

There is a gentle breeze and you close your eyes for a moment and feel the air pass over your cold cheeks. It almost tingles and you know you’ll be flushed when you go in.

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yellowhammer hiding amongst the branches of the hedge

Opening your eyes, you rise to stand and as you do a blue tit lands on a branch, not a metre away. You freeze and watch it hop from one twig to the next, never taking its eyes from you. And just as quickly as it appeared, it flits off, onto the next thing.

You exhale a breath you didn’t realise you were even holding and make your way back to the visitor centre. A quick cup of tea and then homeward bound, you think.

Someone asks if you saw anything exciting as you walk back. You smile and say no. It may not have been exciting but it was certainly worth the trip: the moment of quiet and calm, just you, your thoughts and the world moving around you gently.


Words and pictures by Marianne Nicholson

Feature image of a damp bench under a grey sky

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