Thursday, January 20, 2011


We were only out for about half an hour this afternoon. Just popped down to the shops to buy some milk plus a bag of "insect feast" (sic) and a carton of fat-balls for the birds.

This was the sight which greeted us when we got back: the evidence of a crime against the avian community.

Once a sparrow, now through murderous intent transformed into one more piece of "goodness" for the garden. Clare buried it near the rose bush: it was still warm.

A trivial piece of detective work unmasks the perpetrator, his reputation as a bird-lover now transformed for ever.