Last night I glimpsed the hedgehog under the hedge, a quick rustle of spines and determination. I wanted to say hello, but he vanished before I’d even put the kettle down. Perhaps that is the charm of him — never waiting, never lingering, just reminding me the garden holds lives I’ll never fully know.

Later, Hedgie inspired this:

Hedgehog in a rush,

vanishes before my tea—

spines of urgency.

I’m left holding the kettle,

late again for nothing much.