Each morning we sit here, a pair of old boots grumbling and preening grey feathers after a reveille of tweets and hoots has awakened us, whatever the weather. Anticipating a spring full of song, I rasp a throaty coo, try to sing along but in the corner of my beady eye I glimpse grey squirrels […]
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
writing in north norfolk 