Frieda Hughes is a poet and painter. She has published seven children’s books and four poetry collections. She lives and works in mid-Wales where she rescues, keeps and paints owls.
How did you feel in the days and weeks after George flew away?
I had this huge bird-shaped hole in my life. I had my painting and my poetry, but my third marriage was crumbling and all the attention I had paid to George really had nowhere else to go. I also had this vast aviary I had built, so I set about determinedly trying to find occupants for it. You can go and buy a bird but that wasn’t what I wanted to do. The birds had to be unwanted and they had to need care – birds that could not otherwise fly free. The first bird I took in was an elderly crow named Oscar, who couldn’t fly. But he died after 46 days.
