Tuesday 14th April. The Coronet Diaries.

Yes … April is the cruellest month when lilacs bloom and bodies are buried from living hands.

It was Boxing Day 2017. And cold. Dido would not stop barking at the trellis at the bottom of our garden. We found a young cat pawing her nose. We did the right things to locate an owner but he, except we refer to her as she – she is a transgendered cat- was not chipped and nobody claimed ‘them’. Zen has lived with us ever since. he is so wily that he can open doors by jumping onto the handle. They have to be levered, which means we have exchanged some handles to knobs in order to have some nighttime privacy. Despite the back door being opened regularly for Dido and the front door too, Zen has never attempted, not once, to leave the house. Which means I have the ritual of the World’s Best Cat’s Litter as another more reluctant alternate daily task.

There is a history to Zen’s discovery. Throughout the Autumn of 2017, usually at twilight I would go out into the garden. Sometimes. I was convinced I heard distant sounds of mew. I used to echo the mews across the dying of red maple. My children have always referred to me as a witch. Most of the time it is a white one. Now, I have a black cat who likes to leap onto my lap when I am Zooming and cause a small fright.

When I began this blog, with lockdown on the cards, I imagined, like Zen, I would spend my days staring into avenues of space . Then, the nightmare of emptied space became both fear and threat. The reality is I don’t often have space to check out the birds. I have never it seems been so occupied. Or preoccupied.

Snaps by Jane and montages courtesy of John
https://www.standard.co.uk/news/uk/uk-coronavirus-live-lockdown-updates-covid-19-a4413526.html

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