Bright sun illuminates the fading elder leaves, bejewels the rain-soaked grass, polishes the fresh dog turd.
Dawn. A gull flies sideways below lowering clouds. The silhouette of a small cat appears on the wall behind the neighbor’s bird feeder.
Rain and sun together. A goldfinch gleans seeds stuck to the shit-splattered leaves below the feeder.
Looking out at the pouring rain and a few sodden birds hunched at the feeders, I catch a whiff of pancakes through the walls.
On a gray day, the goldfinches’ faces look redder than ever. A dunnock enters the cage with the suet and settles in to eat.
Bright sun at last! I notice that the bottommost layer of seeds in the bird feeder have sprouted.
Two coal tits flee as a squirrel drops onto the suet feeder, wraps it in an upside-down bear hug and thrusts her muzzle through the bars.
Birds on each feeder and two pigeons on the ground below: the indoor cat watches, rapt, swaying gently as if to a music only she can hear.
Clear and cool. High overhead, a black, heart-shaped balloon drifts by.
Bright sun has summoned up the most impersonal of howls: a pressure-washer, I think. A blue tit joins the goldfinches on the thistle feeder.