The Blackbird.

We were involved in a slightly odd funeral service this morning; a neighbour of ours died at the beginning of the week at the age of 95, his last ten years had been a bit tough on him and I was often visiting to get his television working. It was usually just a plug fallen out at the back, probably knocked out by the cleaner, but his wife could not see to fix it and he wasn't sufficiently mobile to get there. It was the sort of problem that took a minute to fix but an hour of chat before I could get out, he was very lonely.

The funeral service was a quiet family affair in the house that was followed by an interment to which friends and neighbours were invited and then refreshments and a blether at the inn.

We always have a blackbird that's tamer than the rest, I've talked about him before; usually,  when the other birds take flight, he goes with them but, when we came back he was on his own. Thus it was, for about five minutes, we stood a few feet from him while he picked crumbs from the grass and kept an eye on us. I took about twenty shots but none of them was really sharp, this was the best of them; I still have a lot to learn about photographing birds.