The Ungardener loves Ungardening, pottering, DIY projects. If not a new one, then tweak the old.
The sparrows and weavers are pissed of. They have had table reservations booked months ahead, and NOW, now, the restaurant is closed for refurbishment. Not just closed, they have taken the whole thing away.
The birds look like harassed commuters at the Railway Buffet. There is a coffee shop. Please wait to be seated. That bloody woman has her laptop and papers spread over a table for FOUR! My table, I think?
There is also a tiny tearoom Spirulino's. Those standing glare at those sitting, who are frantically shoving in their croissants. Crumbs everywhere. Puddles of spilt tea on the counter. And they’ve run out of lemon meringue pie.
In first class, the attire is formal. The human eye sees what it expects to, what it wants to. I often see this bird as I come out of the kitchen onto the back verandah. Short sighted as I am, I see a smart black and white bird, and think fiscal shrike. Then I really look at the bird. And see, not a thug in mountain boots. Built like a gravedigger. But a delicate graceful ethereal ballet dancer. Not the vicious butcher’s hook, but the lighter beak of an insect catcher. Fiscal yes, but not a shrike, a flycatcher. I think there was a Junior with them, but he only captured ma and pa.
words by Diana of Elephant's Eye
- wildlife gardening in Porterville,
near Cape Town in South Africa
(If you mouse over brown text,
it turns shriek pink. Those are my links.)