Night has wept under the gaze of the tall plane tree and the roof of Adrian garage, a natural pool is half-filled by this nocturnal shower. With eyes still closed I hear the splashing and frenetic flapping of wings. In an instant I am up and at the window, looking through the day’s frame, watching a picture unfold before me. Five little birds dip and dive into molten silver. Rapid-fire-flapping wing action shakes the dust and sleep from their feathers. Heads and beaks dive into and out of bodies cleaning, cleansing, preening and preparing for the new day. Busy little bodies perform ablutions with sacred solemnity in their private little Ganges under the watchful gaze of sun. Smiles scattered like confetti dot their faces. I am happy.