A man is behaving oddly in the street!!!
I stare out from the kitchen window. He is in his forties, I’d guess; scruffy in an old jumper, with the frame of one who does not habitually make a beeline for the salad aisle. I watch as he lopes back and forth, ducking and straining his head, occasionally lifting a camera on which is fitted an enormous, trumpet-like lens.
I think no more of it. If portly men want to make an exhibition of themselves in the street then it is not for the state to intervene. My guess is that it is somebody from a newspaper, as H.M. The Queen is visiting the area at present. Life goes on.
The following day, I visit the market with the LTLP. In order to return via the Village Shop, we need to drive directly past the Cottage. This we do, to find two more men lurking outside our house, furtively brandishing ginormous cameras. Their car is parked across the drive.
The LTLP performs a handbrake turn and pulls the car to a halt pointedly.
“I am very sorry to block your way,” explains Man #1, reasonably. “Did you know that you have a rare bird in your garden?”
We have a rare bird in our garden!!! The chap is considerate and anxious to explain. It turns out that due to weather conditions, the type of plants we have etc. etc., there is some sort of rare Gribbledy-Grob or whatever perched in the tree. I look up at the tree. There is indeed a bird up there, which looks like a sparrow but with different bits. I can’t help but feel honoured that it has chosen our garden to sit and do nothing in.
We have a short conversation about the habits of the Gribbledy-Grob. It is terribly interesting. It does not live in Britain, but occasionally it comes to Britain and sits in a tree. I look at it in wonder, before bidding the friendly man a good-day. This little episode may have awakened a strong interest in ornithology in me; I resolve to keep an eye on the feathery little fellow as the days go by.