Blackbirds, as ever, are in evidence round here , but they seem slower than usual at this time of year. One is sitting on the hedge this morning when I raise the blind. It moves its head from side to side on the alert for something. Does it enjoy the rain? It doesn't seem to want to shelter from it.
The pale, gibbous moon, which I always find so entrancing, not quite real, sits in the afternoon sky like a half sucked acid drop.
A pattern of two light squares on the painted wall of a house comes from the sun reflected off two windows directly facing the wall, reflections of reflections.