Life goes on

Riding to work yesterday morning, it was grey, quite gloomy still, with a chilly, gusty breeze drying out my face. Labouring up to the top of the bridge that spans the West Coast Mainline, I looked up and saw a crow drifting across my eyeline, wings angling into the wind, about five feet above me. I could see the splayed wing feathers, and it was carrying a big knobbly twig (like a Twiglet) in its beak. The crow gave a couple of more vigourous flaps, lifting it up towards the electricity pylons and their overhead wires. I watched it circle upwards, and then saw the nests being built in the highest cross-arms of the pylons: untidy piles of twigs, perched up there in the wind, just feet way from the cables carrying the power. It made me think of how we all adapt to what changes, and how the spring comes round every year and kicks off the hope of new life, and of some kind of redemption/starting over.