horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Are you lookin' at me?

Or.... Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough!

Working from home today for a couple of guys coming to take the tops of three big trees at the bottom of the garden, and contrary to the norm when we get work done, they were totally on it, finishing up just before lunchtime. Gave me time for a park wander over lunch.

Now, in case you didn't know, Robins are feisty wee buggers. I did find it somewhat ironic when, a couple of years ago, the Robin was voted as Britain's national bird. You see, it's fiercely territorial, can't stand incomers, and will posture about before fighting. Sometimes to the death. So it's also a bit dim. A Brexiteer simile if ever there was one.

Mind you, a Robin would probably be more successful having any clue at all at how to fix the mess compared to our glorious leaders.

Anyway, four Robins in close proximity was always going to end in tears, and lead to a lot of chin stretching, showing off the big red breast. Presumably the bigger and redder the breast, the more impressive the specimen. And in this instance the one on the right sent the fear of god into the one on the left.

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