In what I laughably term my office, or perhaps study would be a better word, there is a mantlepiece. It mainly acts as a storage area for odd bits of junk, but I like to refer to it as my "mantlepiece of curiosities".
And amongst the foreign coins, wooden rhinoceros, sofa of cats and a furry magnolia pod, sit these two folk.
They were both turned up at different times in my parent's roof.
The larger one is definitely a blackbird, they used to nest in an opening overlooking the garden many years ago, when I was studying for my GCSEs out in the sun. The smaller one I'm not sure about. It has a finch, or possibly spuggy beak, a relatively larger eye socket, and a less pronounced breastbone-keel.
They are so lightweight, and ephemeral, it is unreal. They can be virtually blown along my mantlepiece museum, and feel more like they are made of dried grass rather than bone. How on earth they can support musculature powerful enough to enable them to fly is a mystery, if my muscles were strong enough for me to fly my shoulders would shatter and I'm rather sturdier than a tiny ball of feathers.
I used to be frightened of all skeletons as a child, I still remember a nightmare I had when I was 5 or 6 featuring test tube eggs and girls opening up their shins to show me their bones. Even now, I'm not a huge fan of skulls...
All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 21.11.15