Jay is for Jane

It's remarkable how the natural world wraps itself around us given half a chance

I’m sure that you don’t need me to tell you that sometimes life can be cruel.  Today, as we walk in the woods, it's a special occasion - the first month without Jane.  She died, aged 52, of cancer, leaving a husband and three children.

It's May.

The bluebells are faded now. The dogs, two of them, romp - for once they are very self-contained.

We are deep in conversation.

As we walk, a Jay flies close by and swoops towards us; it’s unusual for such a shy bird. We walk down a leafy path, bright with fresh new leaves.

The dogs quieter than usual. 

Oddly, two Jays accompany us as we walk along the path. A pair of Jays, pretty in pink, with blue flashes on their wings.

We walk out of the woods into the park, where pre-school children are playing in the playground and dogs are romping. It's a quiet day as we walk around the perimeter of the park.  

There’s not so very much to say now, just walk.

Looking up in an oak tree we spot another Jay, minding its own business.

More than just a coincidence?

We walk on, quietly contemplating life without Jane … and then back into the woods.  

Another Jay accompanies us homewards.

Five Jays: all I can think is, Jay is for Jane.

AJK