Every year we are visited by a bullfinch. Often he brings his wife with him, although she is harder to spot, as her plumage is so much duller than his; she always looks as though someone has thrown a bucket of muddy water over her, and she hasn't got round to washing it off yet.
Usually they come during the winter and hang around near the house, pecking the old seeds off the low bushes, but they never visit for long, and this winter I missed them. I'm not sure if this was due to their absence, or my never happening to be near a window at the right time, but no matter! Yesterday morning, he came.
He was on his own, standing on the lawn about half-way down the garden, pecking away at the bluebells under our old apple tree. I didn't have any binoculars handy, so I don't know if he was collecting insects for his young, or gathering up my dog's fur for nesting materials, but either way he looked very dashing as he went about his business in his striking pink coat. It really is the most astonishing colour - almost neon; like the yellow of rape-seed, I am taken aback every year to see such a fluorescent colour in the natural world.
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