...picked up on a long walk and carried home in your pocket
Wednesday, June 29
Hello Mr. Bird
The birdsong is competing against the children's squeals, running around the playground after their packed lunches. The birds trill a high-pitched 'wirrup, wirrup', making full use of their knowledge of harmony. The children chant 'Hello Mr. Bird' in unison, the vowels drawn out, their inflection exaggerated. They could be saying Mr. Birch or Mr. Burg but I imagine Mr. Bird anyway, with his skinny limbs and long pointed nose and his cloak flapping behind him.