There is a bird called a babbler. I once thought that I was a babbler and I googled it to see what it meant. Low and behold, there it was in Dostoevsky's book, Letters from the Underground! Yes, there it was. 'I am a babbler' it said. It seems not to be such a bad insight really!
Stuart loved birds. Those of you who know me know that I am his widow. Those who knew him will know that he was a very big fellow. so you will imagine him doing an impersonation of a Chetti's warbler. He did it perfectly! Stuart was tuned in to mother nature more than anyone I ever met. It is a great gift but I think that I could make a better effort from time to time.
I have heather in the garden. It is not raining this morning. There are five different types of bee on there this morning, about 200 in total and there are several butterflies. I am going to put in more heather on this side.And pave a small piece on the other side for a table and chair in winter when it is drier! What a lot of rain we had in July.
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