A sparrow in fact. You are told that these birds, once so common in London that they earned the sobriquet "cockney sparrers", have now vanished or almost vanished from London. Perhaps they have emigrated to Spain, where they seem to enjoy the sun and the crumbs as much as other migrants, permanent or temporary, such as ourselves.
Back home, a man on a pair of steps is painting the front window of a terrace house. In the window, sits a tall, black dog on a window seat. The dog, its ears pricked, watches every movement of the man's feet and of his hand and paintbrush.
This morning as I gather nasturtiums to put in a vase, I realize that the bees, which are still plentiful, are looking for the same newly opened flowers as I am, I, because they will stay fresh longer and they, because the newer blooms will have more pollen than those which are beginning to fade.
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