The birds sit hunched in the tree against the snow.
The thrush looks miserable.
The robin wants me to go.
The sparrows don't care.
A solitary marsh tit condescends to visit the feeder.
A solitary marsh tit condescends to visit the feeder.
A finch looks for shelter.
The blackbird takes some bread to eat in peace.
And the thrush eventually makes its way to the bird table.
And the thrush eventually makes its way to the bird table.
The jays, barn owl, magpies, ravens and something I might have sworn was a redwing refused to be photographed.
1 comment:
I was enjoying the scenery too, and the couple of extra days off work (closed, sent home) - until the overconfidence of driving 4x4 came a cropper on a telegraph pole. There goes my no-claims bonus.
I'm not in the mood to check Fr Z, and risk the effect of more pictures of his blasted dinner on my blood pressure. Why do some priests imagine we're going to be edified by or interested in them salivating over their posh tea?
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