Locked Down
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZPXyLt2IxVx4jDPnJx9QjMhXeKxVwhsbWDYVKs2MXaJ3LNIhouPquJyXjy_Q7q8-zLsF6kGOeeSGGKwIQEFrc89moFmjcwvcFnRVFfpEzPf_KLR0D_snlDYccjlIs5rhWOaf5G8vac4w/s640/200272_1022526574879_4754_n.jpg)
A robin that fed from my hand during my ten years of lockdown Only after completing my bird-music track “I’m going to sit in my garden and watch the birds” did I remind myself that I had myself spent 10 years sitting in the garden watching the birds. A blog post that I wrote a couple of years ago about the experience seems to have more relevance now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You scan the horizon, your view an expanse of hill, field and sky, then you focus in on a detail, maybe a bird or a tree. Does your perceptual world contract to a shrunken fragment? No, it stays the same size or maybe even expands. As your attention homes in, so there is a mental blossoming – what was coarse-grained becomes finescale. Uniform Mondrian blocks show their true nature as a filigree of delicate tracery. Like a baby in a pram, whose universe consists of its mother and perhaps some toys, it seems limited, but this is the canvas upon wh