The small birds had been at Mrs Mulcahy’s window each morning for the last five days. Sitting atop the sill by the open window, they sang out to her bed, never daring to enter the room unless she willed it.
The Birds of June
‘Her dreams were interrupted occasionally by the sound of the cow and her newborn calf from the outhouse sheds. A low bellow would crinkle the folds of her mind and then seconds later it would be answered from some other shed in the distance.’