The last couple of weeks I've watched the newly fledged blackbird chicks in our garden. They sit on the patio, feathers fluffed, wings fluttering, cheeping at mum or dad, as the bedraggled, harassed parent shovels fat pellets and seeds up from the ground at its feet and deposits them into its gaping beak. There is a fledgling at the junction of the lane where I walk to work too- hopping around aimlessly, a little lost, randomly turning over a leaf, and clearly wondering what happened to the food supply.
I kind of felt a bit like that blackbird chick yesterday, on my first postgrad run. I ended up listening to the week 9 podcast all over again as a kind of comfort blanket - I couldn't imagine doing it without Laura and hadn't figured out how to put my own playlist together. Laura's probably thinking 'Bugger off, I've got new chicks to feed, the food's right there at your feet!' (or maybe that's the blackbirds), but I might need to do a little more cheeping and fluttering before I'm fully doing this on my own. Sorry Laura.