Short, dated entries. Nothing scientific, everything affectionate.
Tuesday, early
Visibility maybe forty metres. The flock arrived in twos out of the grey like they were being introduced. Gru first, of course. By the time the fog lifted there were nineteen of them on the wire, all facing the same way, like a tiny board meeting waiting for the sun.
Last weekend
A male spent twenty minutes bowing, puffing and turning circles for a female who was, frankly, more interested in a crumb. He followed her along the entire ledge doing the full routine. She left. He cooed at the spot where she had been. We've all been there, friend.
After the storm
The flat roof opposite holds water after heavy rain, and that puddle becomes the most popular spa in the district. Today: five birds, wings open, flicking water everywhere, completely undignified and completely delighted. Stayed far longer than I meant to.
First frost
Everyone fluffed up into little grey spheres, tucked one leg, and shuffled together along the warm side of the chimney. They rotate positions so nobody stays on the cold end too long. Birds figured out shift work before we did.