I leaned out of the sitting room window and took this photo this morning.

Is it every year that I say, ‘The roses have never been so good’? Is this year better than ever?

Still in my pyjamas, I took a photo from the front door.

Back inside the house, the little wooden chooks look in fear of invasion from the roses outside.

Felix was the only invader via a window this morning.

Which reminds me of his defenestration yesterday as I rescued a little blackbird from him which he’d brought inside. The parent birds almost followed Felix into the house, protesting loudly. I’m not sure that my efforts to save the wee bird were successful. Although it was pecking quite vigorously, it seemed unable to perch on a high branch. I ended up with bruises and scratches from scrambling through the garden and a gooseberry bush is looking a little flat after I fell on it. Fortunately, I offloaded the little bird into a hanging basket on my way down.

Isn’t nature wonderful? (And human efforts a bungling mess?)