It was hard to resist this ingenious piece of work in a front garden in Hawkenbury on the outskirts of our town. Recycling and adaptation have much to offer the sculptor.
Young birds are fledging everywhere it seems. The rapid transition from egg-bound embryos to feathered food-gatherers always astonishes. The starling nesting in the capital of the ornamental column set into the wall of the house opposite have fledged and the young birds are flying onto nearby trees and rooftops returning to the nest every now and then for a rest. Only a couple of weeks ago the nestlings were screaming like telephones for their parents to feed them. In The Grove and the vegetable garden young blackbirds conspicuous for their relative lack of fear and for their size - they seem smaller and slimmer than the mature adults - flutter past and run under your feet. Amazing that they know so well how to go about the business of feeding.
The three parts of my short story which I now call A Cat's Tale can be read in sequence in One Fine Day if anyone has the time. Though the sequence is unfortunately back to front. Marja-Leena, thank you for your comment which arrived by email but never made it to the blog. Appreciation is always appreciated. Even criticism. Strange are the ways of Blogger.