It’s been raining today. Non-stop. I rather cleverly left my Tilley Hat on the branch of an oak tree this morning. Soaked to the core, just as I was after an hour or so spent extracting a tree stump from the meadow with my bare teeth. All this rain though led me to think,

“What do flies do when it rains?”

I found the answer just outside my window.

This wee beasty has been sheltering in the same spot since about 11.30am. Couldn’t see any sign of tea or coffee being served under that leaf, which leads me to believe that either (a) flies don’t drink tea or coffee or (b) they do, but the cost of importing fly-size teacups from China is prohibitively expensive. One imagines it would be. Duck Tax and all that. You’d have to order about 6 months in advance too, and time it to coincide with the annual migration of Mr. Quack. I wonder if swans ever find illigal immigrants in the form of fleas and the such like tucked away in their tail feathers when they arrive in the UK?

There’s a huge number of tits around at the moment. I’ve always loved photographing tits, but more often than not have found the results to be quite dissapointing. Need a good telephoto lens so as not to be spotted by the bird. If you are detected, you tend to end up with shots like this.

All legs and no breast.

Ocassionally though, you’re lucky, as demonstrated here.

What a great Tit shot.

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