Ode to a Nightingale

I had an appointment with Aarti, my audiologist, this morning so that she could check on the hearing aids which she fitted me with a year ago. I was pleased to learn that my hearing hadn’t deteriorated in that time, but the readings did show a change in pattern, so I need to go back in a few months for another test to work out what’s going on. She sorted out one or two issues with bluetooth, upgraded the software and changed one of the ear pads and everything seems much better.

While I was there, I spotted this lovely watercolour picture on a shelf and, with Aarti's permission, grabbed a shot with my phone. She told me she had worked at the local Nightingale hospital for a time during lockdown, and was given this as a thank you. Madeleine Floyd, the artist, says on her website this is ‘the nightingale … complete with his rainbow wings of love, help and hope’. The pictures were sold to support the Florence Nightingale Foundation.

And that brings me neatly to thoughts of my favourite poem, which provided my title for today.