My office is in the pink room. A room all my friends claim as their own when they come to stay.
'Am I sleeping in MY pink room Lotte?'
'Of course, where else but your very OWN room in my cottage.'
I don't have the heart to confess to them all that the room isn't just THEIRS, I don't want to crush their dreams.
For some reason people sleep so very well in the pink room. Friends who have been losing sleep through worry or other various reasons, spend a night in the pink room and sleep like babies. Some don't come out for hours. One friend woke up after we had served lunch. I didn't like to disturb her, she was shattered from work. I'm kind, so I saved her a chicken leg!
I work from the pink room and my desk is by the old window. Through the window, I see the garden change as the seasons draw on.
I watch the cherry tree bud, it's dark pink flowers blossom and fade, the bulbs spring to life, the herbaceous do their thing over the summer and the lilac deliver their stunning flowers and perfume. I like nothing better than smelling the lilac as I go to bed on a warm spring night. It makes me feel all secure and lovely that another summer is on it's way.
I know it's autumn now, the signs are there.
The air has a nip, there's a fat pigeon eating my crab apples, the leaves are scattered around the fallen apples and.... the Mad Robin Redbreast is back.
He really is a bit loopy. He spends all day attacking his reflection in the old window by my desk. Tapping at his own head, fluttering in a more than aggressive manner at his own wings. He's really very stupid.
Robin's are very territorial - this one is bonkers.
Every time he goes in for the kill, he hits glass (not hard, so don't worry), he hasn't yet learnt, that there isn't another robin - it's him!
I do love his tenacity though, and I do love his song. The robin will sing all through the winter, especially if he is near a street light. If you hear bird song in the middle of the night, in the winter, it'll probably be a robin.
