At dawn yesterday the quite erratic song of a robin caused me to wonder and wander. There he (or she!) was at the very top of the tallest tree (the one my neighbour told me was a Christmas tree planted many years ago: I very much like knowing this history about that tree) and singing in distracted chunks.  The cause became apparent with a bit of observing on my part.  He was grooming!  A note or two and then raise a wing and pay attention to an armpit.  More song.  Preen breast feathers.  A note or two.  Shoulder got combed. It was an odd concert.

Several finches were foraging in the foliage below the robin and maybe this 'audience' made some comment because Robin suddenly stopped, looked straight at the rising sun, gave two quick chirps – and flew away!

 Then, awhile later, I learned that you could have an image put on a stamp.  The Post Office had never been asked to have a personal painting put on a stamp before: I had to sign some extra forms but it happened.