What's happening?

"What's this wet stuff."
"Where are we?"
"No-one said anything about wet stuff!"
"Where's our dinner?"
"I don't like wet stuff!"

This was probably these baby sparrows' first experience of rain in their young lives. And with no sign of mum or dad, they were sheltering as best they could. They looked very wary when, first, one blackbird, and then another, came and had a look at them. The bigger birds weren't at all aggressive - they looked more concerned than anything, or am I anthropomorphising?

Sometimes one species of creature will seem to care for the babies of another - all seem to recognise babyhood and its inherent vulnerability and look out for the unprotected. Anyway, that's how I read the blackbirds' behaviour (see Extra). However the baby at the front hid its head behind its sibling at the first sight of the blackbird.

"If I bury my head he won't see me!"
"Yes, but what's this wet stuff?"

The wet stuff was the best kind of rain after a drought: soft, steady and gentle, penetrating the hard ground. Only about a quarter of an inch fell, less than 0.5 cm, but the plants are all standing tall, looking greener and happier. Tomorrow, I suppose it'll be back to watering cans in dry sunshine, albeit cooler. Today I only had a short walk to the letter box and back after the rain had stopped. I baked two banana loaves this morning.