Gull

After a morning in the office I headed back to Leith in order to donate nearly an armfula pint of blood. Walked slowly home and saw this adolescent gull on the corner of the quayside. He only briefly lifted his head for me in between vigorous sessions of poking about in his wing-pits; I accused him of picking his nits, but Mr H pointed out that he was in the process of moulting out his juvenile feathers which is probably quite itchy. In fact you may be able to see a couple of them sticking out at odd angles if you look large.

Quiet evening in listening to the football and drinking water; sleep beckons.