A bird in the house disturbs the order of things

Wenlock Edge The blackbird's wings have the flutter of panic as he tries to navigate through the house to find an escape

The unmistakable fan-snap of feathers announces the arrival of a visitor. A dark blur up the stairs, a spike of electric current. There is a palpable disturbance to the order of things when there's a bird in the house; perhaps that's why it's associated with ill omen. The blackbird hops through the back door following a trail of breakfast cereal.

We have become familiar to each other. We share the same space in the backyard where he forages, and we leave crumbs and titbits. It could be that he was born in the garden and has known us all his life, as did his parents. Now he has a nest and a brood of chicks to feed, we listen to him sing; we live in parallel and have retreated to our separate worlds, until now.