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I love birding, but there’s one aspect of it that might persuade me to take up some other hobby: early mornings… I’m a night owl through and through. Staying up to paint until the wee hours is no problem, but rising with the sun (and with the birds, unfortunately) is excruciating. Mid-winter is particularly painful.
One such winter morning, I found myself stumbling and cursing my way to the kitchen for my caffeine fix. While waiting for the kettle, I sleepily opened the curtains and was greeted by a strange sight: a parade of dark grey birds marching past in single file.
What bizarre creatures they were, with compressed bodies, featherless blue heads, wattles at the base of the bill, keratin horns atop their skull, and every feather a galaxy of little white stars.
