27 Balls

A pheasant walked round my garden today.
Its long brown streaked black tail sticking out behind him. He walked sedately round the garden liked he owned it. The sun shining on his plumage, brown with green, purple and white markings. His bottle green head bobbed about as he walked over the compost and round the lawn.
I had hung out 27 fat-balls for the birds. Using a pole I attached them to Gods Gifts suspension unit, which consists of the hook from a metal coat-hanger, a length of plastic ribbon and three little metal hooks on which to attach the balls.
The garden is now the Peurto Banus of rich birds in East Sussex, a playground for Blackbirds, Robins, Tits, Jays, you name it cos I can’t….
I mowed the lawn, put out the cushions on the swing set, swept up the leaves and watched the tulip tree open before my eyes.
I changed into a sarong and read in the sunshine.
Had tea in the kitchen then settled down to watch the news. Mr. Osborne nearly managed to wipe out my near perfect day, and to think his family owns such a pretty wallpaper emporium….
It’s the last time I get my Flocking rolls from him.