I have been miraculously healed by a flock of birds. And I know you'll think 'oh, come off it', but think again. Do not doubt, brothers and sisters. Amen. Let us sing Hymn No 439.
I walked to school this morning without a voice, intending to just set all the work for the people covering my lessons, and then come home. I was ready for another day of enforced silence and steaming my head in bowls and eating forty-nine slices of toast and honey. (Shuddup. I'm meant to be eating honey.)
Just as I reached the bit of the country lane where I turn right down a pathway (that's right, the one that's unlit and has murderers waiting down it), this flippin' massive flock of birds (can't be more specific - you know me and nature) SANG to me.
Don't ask me what they were singing. I didn't recognise the tune. It could've been Twinkle Twinkle Little Starling or Wren Will I See you Again or Hold Me Crows And Never Let Me Go. Actually, I think it was more like some kind of 18th century choral work, because there were about a hundred million trillion zillion of them, these birds. What a racket!
Anyway, I looked up at them in my laryngitical (?) state, and I mouthed, 'I suppose you think that's funny'. (If you are ever driving down my road at 8 in the morning and see a woman in a red coat talking to a tree, don't call the authorities. it's been tried before. She's a lost cause.)
Now, though, folks! Here's the miracle! I hadn't MOUTHED the words at all. I'd SAID them. Yes, it came out a bit croaky, and yes it sounded like someone dragging two chairs across a tiled floor, but it was SOUND. And it was the first proper sound I've made for four days.
Call me a fantasist, if you like. (Not in THAT tone, thank you.) But I think I have been miraculously healed by birdsong. And considering the fact that I am not exactly one of Nature's Great Advocates, I feel very humbled.
Of course, if, on the way home from work tomorrow, I get pecked to death by a dirty great eagle who spots my bright red coat and thinks I am fresh carrion, I may see things differently. But at least I'll be able to do My Dying Words out loud.
|Get your last requests sorted, sunshine, 'cos your newfound relationship with birdies is about to end ....|