Early morning with Denis Donoghue’s bewk. I don’t entirely agree with him, (I’m more partial to social history than Denis maybe) but admire his questioning and hungry, battling through the nettles rather than admiring the swans, mind. Rather a joy at 5am with the current cold, sunny spell out the window.
The small male is a very early riser these days. This morning he remarked of our neighbours across the street “Spotted… two more insomniacs, one making breakfast.”