21st century liberated man. birds. tits. guns. squirrels. odd socks with holes.
I’ve something to admit. I like watching birds. Yes, the feathered variety is drawing my attention more than the ones I spent my teenage years pondering over.
Yet if this attraction is a factor of one’s age, the giggle I still feel inside when I tell my wife that I saw this type of bird in the garden is an assurance that I am still not fully grown up.
Better still, I have a spot in my downstairs living room (well, downstairs is all open plan as I’ve knocked all the walls out, so call it what you like) where I can sit with my coffee, look out beyond my pond (which from this angle is a bit like a moat) and pursue the wildlife in my kingdom (back garden).