Depression and misery and a sense of proportion

Hearing about the death of Ian Banks and watching the last episode of Game of Thrones and the marriage at Frey's castle is not a great way to cheer the day.  Sundays malaise, too much over-indulgence over the weekend, all cast a pall as grey as the sky is today. Out in the garden there is a bird singing, counterpointing the greyness, bringing a sense of proportion. It's not me that's dead, Game of Thrones is not real and our capacity to feel is what makes us human. All the same it feels better to hide away in silence, to pull up the covers and listen to this one bird singing an illimitable song.