grumpyf1

In case you're enormously stupid, this is not a real blackbird. If there’s an Oscar for “best soundtrack by something with feathers”, we have a blackbird near our house that should be up for a small gold bloke – presuming they have the right envelope. Ah, Spring. Whilst it may have been a windy, sleety, rainy few weeks, the signs are definitely there. Snowdrops are giving way to Daffodils. Lambs are starting to appear, shivering bemusedly in the fields. Storms are called Doris. Blossom is, ah, blossoming on trees, triggering the same level of amazement reserved for people who wear shorts in the first week of March. Brave? Or foolish? You have to admire the pluckiness, though. We have a new champion of the springiest season too. A blackbird has taken up residence close by to our house, with a remarkable level of stamina rarely seen in the birdyverse. This plucky little chap starts singing at the top of his voice at the first hint of daylight. If I wake up before the alar...