There are dozens of little birds: a variety of tits, sparrows, blackbirds and finches in the hawthorn tree. While I dug snow from their usual feeding places they gathered and, sending out invitations to their neighbours via a chorus of birdsong, they watched me. Only a blackbird came down to check I was laying the food out correctly. Seeing that I was, he stayed with me and tucked in. The rest of the inhabitants of number 1, Hawthorn Tree, are not as adventurous today.
February 25th 2021