What's that coming over the hill...
There were four of them. White, red, black and pale. The noise of thunder and a message saying 'come and see'. And, lo, the sun became black as sackcloth, and the trees were shaken of a mighty wind. And the kings of the birders, and the great birders, and the rich birders, and the chief birders, and the mighty birders, and every birder, hid themselves in their cars and in the lee of the hedges,...
It must be the end of days, Gwent is actually having a half decent run of birds. Nice weather we're having,... more promised for tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment