Yesterday morning I decided to mow the lawns at Tense Towers, as a sop to our long-suffering neighbours in an effort to make up for all those wild, unkempt places we've
With the job completed, I parked the mower on the path beside the back door and went for some refreshment. The grass on the rear lawn had been quite long, so the resident ground-feeding birds were now rather pleased to be able to find invertebrates in the shorter sward.
I returned with a mug of tea to discover a Robin sat on the handle of the mower.
I was totally unprepared for what happened next, which is my paltry excuse for not being able to fit the scene into a full frame without the conservatory door creeping into the shot.
If you're thinking, "Did the Robin lower the blades another 10mm and go round again?" No.
If you're thinking, "Did the Robin fall awkwardly, inadvertently switching on the engine and distributing said Robin over half the garden?" No and shame on you.
If you're thinking, "Was there a spot of courtship feeding between two consenting adult Robins?" Yes there was, clever clogs, have a gold star.
As first dates go, whatever happened to just swapping mobile phone numbers?