I have spent some time in the evenings recently sitting in the garden watching the swifts in the sky above me. The garden is becoming. It is wonderful to behold, this becoming, and so I sit and watch the swifts. The garden does not become very quickly, so watching the swifts if a way of seeing the action, a reflection of all the unseen activity in the garden, above and more particularly, below the ground. It is tremendously exciting.

I have put in a pond. Tom and I dug out the earth, with help from Erin, and then I put in a liner and we added water. The first bird I saw reflected in the water was a cormorant. I started a list of reflected birds, and the swift is on that list now, striking scimitar poses over and over, flashing about. I like the swifts, but I think I like the cormorants better. The cormorant is so steady. They know where they’re going. Although, of course, in a few months the swifts will fly to Africa.

I’m uncertain at the moment. I need some of that cormorant steadiness. I’m staying here. I want to add my imaginary life to my garden life. There is a sense of movement, maybe a requirement to move. It’s fleeting, like a swift moving across the sky, but I think if I watch them some more maybe I will learn something.