THE INSIDE AND THE OUTSIDE

Scallopini Squash plant on windowsill. Trees beyond.

Since being stuck indoors (see previous post) I've become more aware of the continuity between what's inside and what's outside.

In the normal way of things, when I leave my house I feel I'm moving from one world to another, almost between states of being. I cut ties briefly with what's 'inside' and become someone else. But now, whenever I step onto my doorstep I feel as if a thick band of elastic is holding me in place, poising me between two realms; human, yet, in a way, wild - for I glance round quickly to make sure there's no-one anywhere near. Humans have come to mean 'danger'.

The trees have 'leafed up' since I wrote about them on 13th April.

The best time for this peering out is when it's dark so I've become semi-nocturnal. In the very early hours of the morning, when the world is empty of people I can step forward and take ten deep, deep breaths and allow ten deep, deep, exhalations. I can move far enough from the door to look back over the roof to see if the moon is there. Even put rubbish in the bin! In the middle of last night I opened the front door and gazed straight into the eyes of a fox that had leapt onto a wall on the other side of the path. We paused. For a few seconds we stared. I was sort of 'inside'. The fox was definitely 'outside'. Yet there we were, together. And now, when I look at seedlings on my windowsill I am aware not only of them (inside) but of trees beyond; on the other side, the outside, of the glass.

Weed' in its own pot on the windowsill. Trees beyond.

In this new life, the line between 'domestic' and 'wild', always a bit blurred in my mind, has become very immediate. Not only have dandelions and sycamore seedlings taken up residence in the window boxes, a 'weed' managed to germinate itself along with the tomatoes and I mistakenly gave it a pot. I will let it stay and grow - on my inside windowsill, in front of, and sort of merged with, the trees.

I have been looking at web cams. These hold a much firmer line between the 'inside' and the 'outside' but can still connect us remarkably intimately with what's going on elsewhere. We sit comfortably and observe. There's a bald eagle with three babies in Iowa (the close ups are incredible). And a white stork in the Netherlands - also with three chicks.  I sit and watch the Northern Lights - live (which means they aren't always there). For several years I've watched Dorset Barn Owls in spring but I find them less engaging. They live in what looks more and more like a smelly mess and make terrible hissing sounds - like water trying to force its way down a semi-blocked drain or someone noisily sucking the last of a chocolate milkshake through a straw - over and over!

Pot of Pot Marigolds seedlings, germinating on doorstep.

I've also come across a wonderful website of feathers - Featherbase. You might like it too. Here are the feather pages for the three birds I am following.

Bald Eagle

White Stork

Barn Owls - oh! no. No barn owl!

And to round things off, at the gateway between the inside and the immediate outside - pot-marigolds germinating on my doorstep, kindly sent as seeds from Mike at Flightplot. A third dimension: inside, outside, internet. Merging.

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Linking to Nature Notes at Rambling Woods