A Thrushes Diet
....Snail.
When I was exchanging cars back again tonight at North Berwick with Donald I realised I'd no blip, and so I winged on a bit to Donald, thinking I could suction an idea from his brain. As it was, this Thrush was at my feet cracking open a juicy snail for his own metabolic and gastric pleasure. So here he is.
Donald's going up north tomorrow to take delight in the artistic offerings and no doubt the socialising that the Nairn Festival brings, including his own poetry reading on Tuesday. I'll miss you around Donald.
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