a curious encounter

"I awoke early one morning and noticed a peculiar woman outside my window pane. She worked brusquely sweeping the cobblestones in the street below with a long broom made of twigs wielded in a circular motion. Every so often, however, she would stop, and in that pause, a small bird flew down from its mansard and perched upon her shoulder.

This woman, whom I had never before had occasion to notice, would then speak to this sparrow in a hoarse whisper that I could barely make out, so much so that I took in nothing of her actual words. What was remarkable to me was that this bird seemed to listen, and then, when she'd finished, would alight and make to the nearest sign-pole where it would warble as she swept.

Now this sweeper, dressed all in black, might have otherwise made a foul impression on me. Her countenance was grim and her attitude gruff. Indeed, I realized that the percussive rasp of her broom on the paving stones had awoken me from my slumber.

But her friendship with this delightful dunnock redeemed all such foulness. And, like a springtime sun breaking through a cold morning's rain, gave me quite a large measure of happiness and light. Since I had arranged that morning to meet some acquantainces at a nearby coffeehouse, I shuffled downstairs in good mood, intent on making inquiry of this woman and her remarkable bird. Alas, just as I had put on my boots to step out-of-doors I saw her figure pass out of my street, followed closely by her avian companion, flapping its wings behind her.

I must admit that although I never saw this woman again, it has given me a curious joy to think on her since...I often wonder what became of her and her friend."

-from Darby's Journey into London, and other tales of Alacrity and Woe, 1754