Oh, to be in England...

[mirrorshard]

It's April, alright, and outside there are branches hung with snow, hoverflies around the pond in the garden, and a hyperactive squirrel building a drey in the tree next door. He's hopping back and forth between that and the one in our garden, picking out suitable sticks, nibbling on them, and then taking them back the long way around for the fun of it.

There's a couple of neighbourhood cats playing Cat Chess - a light marmalade one, and a slim mackerel-striped one - and quite often the pair of magpies (which I think are nesting on our chimney) come and sit close enough so I can see just how ragged their tail-feathers are. It looks as though they're proud of the lacework - perhaps escaping cats is the pie version of extreme sports? A finch just now peered in through the window from a momentary perch on the fence, and the woodpigeons are coughing and booming. "There's NEW folk around here," they say.

This is what it means to see some morning unaware, sleepy and tousled and downright gorgeous.

Comments

[jin-shei.livejournal.com]

Last night, at dusk, I had a black butterfly flying around my yard, landing on the window and peering at me.

[perosa.livejournal.com]

England in the spring sunshine is a very lovely place to be. Mr & Mrs Blackbird are nesting, the butterflies are fluttering and my garden is full of flowers. Bliss.