Imperfectly Perfect...

.. What a pretty pink stripe!
(It has never provided a flower like this before).
It's a shame it will be gone tomorrow; these flowers wither and drop every evening, to be replaced by more tomorrow.
A perfect metaphor for life perhaps? (Let's not grow maudlin).

In other news the baby jackdaws are growing up.
They tear around the garden with all the energy of puppy dogs and are bright as buttons.
They hang around the patio fearlessly (and, amusingly, next to a big black stone cat that the previous owners here left behind).
Today one found a stick. Another cajoled it to drop it, and 'had it away'.
I swear the look on the first jackdaws face was that of a toddler screwing up its face before the loud wail of 'Mummeeee'.
Anthropomorphism lives (in this house anyway!).

The Elderly One calls.
(I might be gone some time).