Long-tailed Tits
A string of long-tailed tits came pitching along the side of the wood from one thick tree to another. They might have been tied together. Three went on, and two remained in the tree in front of me. I was not hidden, but it made no difference. They twisted and turned through the branches, clinging by their feet and tipping over backwards as they searched the bark and buds for insects. I admired the black and white stripes on their heads and the delicate shade of pink on their breasts. I had not often been quite so close to them, and in the sunlight—it was a morning for day-dreaming—they seemed so beautiful that I imagined I was looking at a picture of birds that existed only in some artist's fancy. When they, had finished their acrobatics, they went on to the next tree and the one beyond until they caught up with the others, and took hold of that invisible thread on which they looped along the wood and Were lost to sight.
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