Peak Hour

It seems to be that time of the year again when the sparrows fly en masse from tree to tree just like those busy city people who all hit the road at the same time to go to and from work. We will be sitting here, whiling away our day when all of a sudden we are bombarded with twenty to thirty sparrows in a tearing hurry to get to the silver birch. They sit there briefly to let a few stragglers catch up (or maybe they're stopped at the traffic light) and are then off in a tearing hurry to get to the next tree. They do this all around the garden and I'm pretty sure they end back right back where they started.

Added to this joy is seeing tiny mum wrens feeding minute morsels of food to even tinier wren babies as they hop across the deck.