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Jeni Bell’s Wild Britain – The return of Robin Red Breast

The return of Robin Red Breast

words  by Jeni Bell

The continued adventures Of Jeni , Bill and Millie……..

Once the returning Autumn wind and rains had subsided, and that after the storm calm had descended on our little corner of council estate, a new sound found its way through my bedroom window. Not entirely new, I’d heard it before, many times in fact, but it was new in the sense that it was different to the usual sounds that floated up through my window whilst I was at my desk.

It wasn’t the cooing of woodpigeons or the rasping of crows, and it certainly wasn’t the beatboxing of the starlings that pulsed from the chimney stacks. These sounds had remained all summer, they woke me in the mornings and serenaded me as dusk fell. Amongst sirens, airplanes and garden machinery these were council estate constants.

This sound was different, and although I’d heard it in other places throughout the summer, I’d not heard it here in the garden. This was a sound of colder mornings and icy evenings of turning seasons and falling leaves. Its notes carried a hint of frost, and visible breath and each crescendo it reached brought a smile to my face and found me frantically grinning in anticipation, at the thought of a long-awaited friend.

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