Hello-o-oh!

I heard a familiar cry echoing round the square - it's probably Stewart or one of his equally predatory offspring. Don't know if he's been driven in from the sea by storms Doris or Ewan, or if he's just decided it's time to stake his claim to the traditional wheelie bins. He stood on the chimney pot for quite a while, beak raised and in full cry, but there didn't seem to be anyone else about yet.