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.
“…wonderful. Science and history and geography and evolution and culture all tangled up in musings while walking about the moors around Hebden Bridge.”—PZ Myers
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