Saturday, 4 February 2012


Yesterday morning and today our blackbird has sung in the street; not the occasional under-his-breath-half-singing of a blackbird in midwinter but the blithe sound a summer afternoon in a vicarage garden (cucumber sandwiches obligatory). Blackbird song isn't due for weeks yet, and I haven't even heard a mistle thrush, but on the coldest two days of the winter our blackbird sings.

Has he not read the books?

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