Ghost birds

And still we shuffle heavily around on the cold hard earth, our movements slowed as the final gasp of winter tugs at our finger tips and the bony hands of March grab at our ankles. Birds fall away from the bare branches and leave their ghostly images on glass.


In this sluggish melting of winter, caught between the Snowdrops and the much anticipated Daffodils and Tulips, there is much bird activity round about. A few weeks ago our Jessie had the chance to help out with some bird ringing here at the college. A student of Natural sciences who we have nicknamed 'Moth Girl' due to her moth trapping activities in the Summer months, has been setting up mist nets in the grounds to get a better understanding of the local bird population. As a result we keep spotting Blackbirds with 'bling'.

Close encounters with a male Bullfinch.

Early indication that the Blue tits have turned into Zombies.



I don't know about Ghost birds, but our resident feathered friends can at times feel more like Zombie birds. In their desperate pursuit of food they have made us prisoners in our own Bothy.

Blackbirds eye us intently through the glass, Magpies hungrily wait for us, 'us' being the operative word. There is only so much bread and butter that they are prepared to endure when what they really want is gardeners flesh! The sickening rasp of crows on the cold air, cadavers steaming on the bare earth, birds ripping at bloody innards and squabbling amongst themselves like Vultures, head feathers slick with blood.

I've never read a zombie comic before, maybe I should give one a go.