On an afternoon when almost everything was fleeing from my lens, this robin bought itself immortality by flying into the frame, settling a few yards in front of me, and singing its little heart out. I like the fact that even though the beak is almost closed here, you can still see from the expansion of its throat that the bird is producing sound.
This evening R and I went to the cinema to see Darkest Hour, which is graced by terrific performances from Gary Oldman and Kristin Scott Thomas, ably supported by Ronald Pickup, Stephen Dillane and Sam West; but is let down - fatally in my opinion - by a truly appalling script and horrible design. I decline to believe that even in 1940, every single thing in London (apart from the Churchills' pink dressing gowns) was green, brown or grey, and the utterly ludicrous scene in which Churchill bolts out of his official car onto the tube to consult the cheery London populace about whether it's the Will of the People that he should negotiate with Hitler or fight, made me want to crawl under the seat in sheer embarrassment. If you like lots of shouting and outstanding prosthetics, and can tolerate a story which is already quite dramatic enough being dumbed down in the name of entertainment without an overwhelming urge to scream "FAKE HISTORY!!!", you'll probably love it; but if not, I'd recommend approaching with low expectations. It'll probably clean up at the Oscars.