Comfort in small things…

It’s been a turbulent week. The situation in Syria has been so BIG that it makes it difficult to even begin to write about anything else. Compared to the suffering and horror, what right or significance does a writer have to focus on the small? But the world seems to have an infinite capacity for both, and actually, we can’t always focus on injustices, because wouldn’t we just shrivel up into something weak and ineffectual…to add a seasonal simile…like a rotten crab-apple….?

So when my husband grabs some photos of our resident hedgehog on his phone, what else can I do but share them…Copy of photos of Hedgehog Hammy 015

Copy of photos of Hedgehog Hammy 017This delightful little creature has been a frequent visitor to our garden in recent days. He was actually born in the hedge next door, but who is he (or she) to know that it’s polite to use the garden gate rather than barging under the fence? But despite all our simpering and so called moral rectitude, isn’t that what warring factions are doing in Syria? Somewhere along the line, humanity still seems to lack respect, and whilst appreciating that humanity isn’t and never will be squeaky clean (like our hedgehog, who seems to spend an inordinate amount of time scratching and losing balance as he bumbles around the garden), perhaps it’s still better to strive, and above all to talk to each other…

This little fellow doesn’t seem to be afraid of us, or of the light (I always thought hedgehogs did their bumbling by night), but seems quite content to capitalize on my husband’s path-weeding which reveals a harvest of ants. At least one creature’s not going hungry… and by focussing on the small, it doesn’t mean my compassion is diminished, it just means that I can maintain the strength to offer something to the larger debate…

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