This is how it happens...I need something for the garden and so pop into our local garden centre (which shall remain nameless to negate any potential libel threat). I select what I want, then I go to the counter, put my hands up and get casually fleeced by the woman in the Dick Turpin mask. Like sipping tea through a tramp's sock, it always leaves a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.
Not today though. For hiding in the bushes, unpeturbed by the rampant theft all around, sat these little robins. I was reminded that even in this hectic modern world in which we choose to immerse ourselves, there still is always room for a bit of love for a fluffy bunch of birds
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