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| A goldfinch... but not my goldfinch... |
I was sitting in our conservatory on Sunday morning, drinking tea, when I looked out at the bird feeder planted in the middle of the lawn and noticed a somewhat unusual looking bird with its beak searching for a free snack. "What's that?", I asked Ros, our household nature expert. She peered at it, slightly myopically - we both have eyesight which is less than optimal - and mused.
Luckily, the wonders of the internet allowed me to establish that it was, in fact, a goldfinch. Goldfinches are quite attractive, with their red faces and yellow wing flashes, and I haven't seen very many previously. That said, now that we feed the wild birds, we have a rather more lively garden, with plenty of birdsong to add a little cheer even on the dullest morning.
It is one of the pleasures of rural life, in that you do have time to stop and stare, to absorb the change of the seasons - the oil seed rape is beginning to flower, turning whole fields into adverts for the Liberal Democrats, the hedges are beginning to blossom and life generally is becoming greener, with the promise of a good harvest to come.
Apparently, there is a General Election campaign going on out there somewhere, although it hasn't really come to our village yet...
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