Murphy

Murphy leapt from the buggy like a dog on a mission, straight into a clump of berry-less holly bushes. There was a terrible commotion, then an irate cock pheasant burst into flight, giving voice to his indignation. Murphy suitably chastened, returns to the buggy with a ‘That showed you’ look on his handsome face.
This Monday was the most depressing day of the year. Not my judgement. I read that in one of the dailies. Why? Damp, dark, depressing seems to sum it up. Tell you what, they were suffering from something horrible.
It’s raining - not the soft poetical rain but the real hard stuff. The gutters are running a yard wide, all the fields are waterlogged and everything is soaked. There are, however, possible signs. No snow and relatively warm means that plants are thriving and grass is growing slowly. Gorse is in full bloom, birds have started singing again, blackbirds' song and thrush and something - I can hear but not see!
There are green shoots peeping through the woodland floor. It’s bursting with life-bluebells pointing their noses out, cow parsley and fox gloves, just waiting.
In one of my spots for a morning pipe, the floor is covered with violets peering out at the world. Hazel with the catkins and lambs-tails dancing in the breeze, that’s a real harbinger of what’s to come.
L.B.J.'s - Little Brown Jobs, rooting in the frost-killed vegetation by the sides of the pond. Consulting my bird book back at base, I reckon that they must be reed buntings. They are now quite easily seen, not so during the growing season. Quite a striking bird, not spectacular, understatedly pretty.
Watched some television this week, there was some society reject sharing his problems to the world. This man should have been watching TV not appearing on it. He ate roadkill! Everything you could think of, including owl! I think anyone would look at a freshly killed rabbit or pheasant, if it was recent, but this chappy took it home and ate it - even if it was green and throbbing. Murphy would draw the line at that, I hope, but would probably roll in it.
I think I miss out on a lot of the birds singing due to a touch of deafness, which brings to mind the couple in the old people's home. It was the Christmas dance, they were doing a waltz when the old boy's eyes light up at something his partner has said. She quickly repeated “No, no, I said I have acute angina.”

See You
Buggy Man.