That one moment...

I absolutely love early mornings at this time of year, when it's warm enough to fling open the back door with gay abandon at 6.00am and revel in the mysteries of Mother Nature. A time when the local wildlife, and my moggies, can benefit from the coolest part of the day relatively undisturbed and unmolested by the inhabitants of Ipswich. The first songstress of the dawn chorus started at 4.40am and by this time they are in full force, filling the air with conflicting notes that in any normal choir would not work but in this scenario, the harmonies are perfect.

After practically frothing at the mouth like rabid wild animals in their exuberance to get out of the house (well, apart from our typical teenager Lunar who is still in bed as we speak!), the Effervescent Eight have mostly left the building. I watch my little furry family proceed down the garden path, some casually strolling, others at such a pace that I am sure they have people to see & things to do, and I wonder to myself what the day will bring. Then, after sitting on our garden bench for five minutes, I gaze around to map out everyone's location. I can see Jacob on the windowsill indoors, know that Midget is still upstairs with my daughter and can no longer see Feelix so that leaves four to account for. Wednesday, creeping delicately along the fence two gardens up like a little black stealth machine; check. Spike, again on the fence two gardens up but sitting regally on a post with his plush tail hanging over the edge like a rudder, calmly surveying his kingdom; check. Gizzy, sauntering nonchalantly down our garden with her usual regal air, ensuring that her royal subject (aka Me!) is aware of her outstanding beauty; check. And finally Oscar being...... well, just Oscar, so no changes there then.

Suddenly, above our heads is a flurry of wings and a female blackbird lands on the fence not four feet from where Oscar and I are both sitting. She is obviously completely unaware that either of us would be sitting there and has clearly misjudged her landing position. For that one brief moment the expression on Oscar's face is priceless; it's as if all his birthdays and Christmases have come at once and his little brain is attempting to compute all of the info available to him. Luckily Mrs Blackbird's grip on reality is faster than Oscar's and realising her logistical error, she takes flight again leaving my little ginger cat to ponder the what ifs.

Within seconds his attention has turned to a bug flying past and the whole incident is forgotten, well, by him anyway but it's one that will stick with me for a long time. That one moment, caught in the beautiful amber eyes of a cat called Oscar.