While meditating on dewy daffodils and the pinkest fritillaries underfoot, I see her swooping in. Even with a dozen or so humans chatting beneath her nest, she carries on incessantly. Over and back, a short stop on the fence post and one final dive under a window ledge.
Carrying more than she can easily manage (enthusiasm and necessity) she keeps going until there is more than enough material. She will have to select and hone later.
The writers with me scribble notes and I crawl through the wet grass doting on spring flowers. Still in the distance I see her labouring on. Those precision flights with the sharpest focus on her destination.
Today uploading these photos, sifting and selecting from spring treasures, tending my own nest with all the deft skill and patience it takes, she still fills me with inspiration.