I was heading to work recently and being in a particularly fowl mood was taking absolutely no notice of my surroundings as I took my usual detour through the woods to the bus stop. Suddenly, my mental machinations were arrested by a beautiful high-pitch sound drifting down from high above me, sounding like the tinkling of thousands of pieces of broken glass. I looked up, and at first couldn't see the only possible culprit. Eventually, a throw back to 80's, still wearing far too much eye make up 30 years after most people grew out of it, was a Cedar Waxwing. It was perched up in the fork of a tree, enjoying a tasty meal of snow.
Shortly afterwards, a flock of them flew in and they seemingly hung from all the berry bearing branches of the surrounding trees. I spend a focused few minutes scanning through the flocks to see if a Bohemian Waxwing might have been hitchhiking along with the group. The Bohemian waxwing is larger and has has a bright red rump which at this close proximity would have made it stand out prominently had one been present. Having ascertained this was a no boho go zone I stood back and enjoyed the retro-stylings of the Cedar Waxwings. With that said, less words and more pictures from me.
Finally, and reluctantly I turned and left feeding frenzy, noting as I resumed my walk that I was no longer in a foul mood, or even a fowl one. Some days the people around me don't realise how grateful they should be to the birds.
For no particular reason I leave you with our two most familiar celestial travellers, the moon and the sun.