We’re ‘in’ – it’s cold and grey again, and a little while ago it was drizzling gently. We’re also at home because we’re expecting visitors – they’ve got a long journey (I don’t envy them). A call from the kitchen – “He’s back”. There’s a sparrowhawk on the fence, glaring evilly in all directions, looking for a tasty (blue?) titbit. Nature isn’t always pretty. (Hope he doesn’t eat my friend the robin, who comes to see what I’m doing whenever I’m in the garden).

He’s gone now. Didn’t eat anyone.

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