Warm to come

13°C, westerly nearly made me late for work.

Last day of March, tomorrow is shorts’ weather: 19°C. And it’s D-day here. More on that  purge another time. Drowning in work this week- tomorrow’s report deadline will whoosh by after 5pm. These enigmatic comments will be explained in the near future.

Singing trees can be found sometimes even at night; the voices of birds are worth stopping for. Some birds sing slowly enough to listen to. Small passerines are just too damned fast to follow by ear. Is it blackbirds that sing late into the night? He stands high in a still-bare tree, singing dis-connected melodies, shaping charming but penetrating phrases at a pace we can follow.

Leave a comment