Like most of we non ringing people, I much prefer a bird in the bush rather than a bird in the hand. Especially when the bird in the hand is dead.
A neighbour brought this pathetic scrap of feathers to me and I have to say it took a long time for me to identify it for her. If it had been flitting around shiny eyed and vibrant with life, it would have taken half a nano second but the first thing that foxed me was its small-ness. It had to be a goldcrest... er no it didnt, my imagination flickered, something eastern and exotic, seconds were passing into minutes... No get a grip forget the citrine flush, the rich sheen of the olive green, the exquisite form, the delicate insectiverous beak, impossibly slender almost black legs. How do wings this small cross ocean and continents?
Bog standard I guess! If any one wants this little jewel, its in my freezer,
No comments:
Post a Comment