There are so many birds today.

Coal tits.

Blue tits.





The woodpecker.

Three robins.


So much song.

Robins watching me work, rustling by my side.

An imperfect v of geese, honking overhead, black pattern on the grey sky.

Later, inside, watching the garden, a sparrow hawk.

Just a flash of white and brown, a shape, a swoop, a reminder of the harshness, the fierce wildness of life at the edges of the garden.

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