It had been a wild and windy night, raining stair rods throughout. Dawn chorus was just the one blackbird which should win medals for bloody-mindedness, no doubt the ones I manage to sleep through are jam-packed with exotic ornithology.
The morning was no better. I watched the rain falling at a satisfyingly correct 45° to the perpendicular and thought to myself: "Conkers to that."
Evidently so did the birds in the back garden.
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