Wednesday 21st December (The Last Day of the Year)


Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window into a white and grey cloudy sky. The temperature was mild and this is the shortest day. Mr. Kite considers this the last day of the year. Walking into the town centre Mr. Kite watched fieldfare, redwings and blackbirds. Today the birds were singing very well. Song thrushes had started to sing. The year was turning from decay into growth.

Sadly Mr. Kite was ill today and could not go bird watching. Felling ill Mr. Kite did not have a tipple of anything but went to bed.