Thursday, 21 March 2013

The lying birds are trying to tell me its Spring

Went out running today and did the "Tour of the Two Lakes". A freezing east wind was lowing so hard my fingers began to bleed and I could feel my face dessicating with every step. The sky was as grey as old tripe.

Yet the birds are trying to act like it's spring now. The starling murmurations are getting smaller as the winter roosts reak up, although a small one appeared above my garden for the first time. The blackbirds are singing from any convenient perch, and the mallards look very sexually flighty indeed, with much quacking and chasing going on oth on the air and on the water.

My parents report that the little goldcrests have returned to their silver birch tree and are working the leaf buds with their tiny beaks. One flower has appeared in my garden, forget the forget-me-nots, my first flower of spring is a purple nettle flower poking up pathetically from a sea of dew. I've seen a couple of blown down nests, presumably from the idiot collared doves and woodpigeons.

Nature is trying to tell me that spring might be starting. My purple hands and dropping off fingers tell me different.

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