A miserable day. Torrential rain with no let-up, bringing fears of flooding down in the valley. A couple of leaking windows. Lights on at midday.
I glanced out the study window mid-afternoon and saw a small flock of starlings land in one of the hawthorns at the far end of Russel’s field. But something about their jizz felt un-starlingy. I dug out my binoculars, and struggled to focus them through the sheets of rain… Starlings all right, but with a handful of fieldfares thrown in for good measure. A sure sign winter can’t be far off.