I am not superstitious by nature, but when a robin flew into the back shed last week I wondered about it a lot. I had heard before that in Irish folklore when a robin flies into a house it can indicate death. When I was living and studying in Cork thirteen years ago I rented a room in a house on the beautifully named ‘Strawberry Hill’. One afternoon in early May a robin flew into our living room. I was struck by its prescence and felt a little scared by the flapping and struggle of the tiny red breasted creature. It found its own way out and I felt relieved. A few days later on May fifth my beloved dad passed away suddenly. It was completely unexpected. So when I saw it happening for the second time last week I was confused. The fact that it was the shed and not our home consoled me. My husband Jay works for an organisation called L’Arche who support adults with an intellectual disability. One of their residents,a friend of his, was very unwell recently with oesophageal cancer. She died last weekend. May she rest in peace.
I know I said I wasn’t superstitious but I am struck by this ‘little birdy’ telling me something!
‘Awake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving ‘ Rumi.