Monday 31st January (Looking at Naked Trees)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see that the leafless trees had a thin layer of frost. The sun was rising above the horizon. Fortunately for Mr. Kite planned to go bird watching with his birding companion.
By ten o clock the two bird watchers were cycling along the Old Canal on a still frosty and sunny morning. Soon they locked their bikes to a sign post in Uffington and were walking up an avenue of trees looking and listening to the familiar sounds.
The most vocal and prominent were members of the Paridae family; Great, Blue, Coal and Marsh. A flock of Redwing kept one step in front of the birders and corvids landed in the fields. With the trees bare it was an opportunity to look for woodpeckers. Treecreepers and Nuthatch could be seen and the odd Greater-spotted Woodpecker. For such a clear and calm day it was quiet; those woodpeckers were playing hard to see in the naked trees. Every sound and every flutter raised the optimism of watching the elusive Lesser-spotted Woodpecker. A small group of deer watched curiously as the bird watchers examined bare bird less trees. They remained still not wishing to become the focus of attention. Walking through the trees on the frosty firm ground in the winter sunshine was a pleasure; birds and deer were a bonus.
Now the birding competition was close and Mr. Kite was in the frame to win. When the two birders left Haughmond Hill the birding companion needed three birds for a draw; so it was a return trip along the river. Very soon the draw was on with Mute Swan, Moorhen, Mallard, Goosander and Cormorant.
After a pleasant day out Mr. Kite returned home for a tipple of Tetley tea. Cha and a good health to the birds of Haughmond Hill.
Monday, 31 January 2011
Sunday, 30 January 2011
Sunday 30th January (One for Sorrow, two for Joy)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see two magpies eating chips. Now living a hundred metres away from a chippy that sells crisp tasty golden chips it is not surprising that in the morning a few chips are scattered around the area. Staggering drunks often feed the birds inadvertently. Mostly black-headed gulls have the pleasure of a good chip but today it was the turn of the magpies.
Reading that the magpie population is increasing and that a scientific cull is planned to decide whether magpies and carrion crows are responsible for the decline of the song bird Mr. Kite was going to have a tour around admiring the magpie. Starting with the two chip eaters Mr. Kite was impressed by the way they emptied the contents of the polystyrene container onto the ground before holding the chip in their feet and devouring it.
Now today Mr. Kite bought a newspaper before his bike ride. This paper had a picture of a magpie and a recent quote about a lord caught fiddling and alluded to 'the thieving magpie'. Who does Mr. Kite have more sympathy for a thieving magpie or a thieving lord? The gregarious chattering magnificent magpie of course. Put the lord in a cage.
About midday Mr. Kite set off in the sunshine on a magpie appreciation tour. He saw a few on the way to Atcham and a few more in Attingham Park where they flew between the trees. Their large bodies and long tails stood out as they glided onto branches with such precision. On the return trip Mr. Kite watched three more hopping about on the ground bouncing along jerkily, noisily and confidently.
Mr. Kite gave plenty of encouragement to these birds and thought to himself; before blaming the demise of the British song bird on the magpie why not have a few years where pheasants and red-legged partridge are not reared and released into the countryside to be shot. Let the countryside have a few years where alien birds are not released into the woods, fields and copses and study if the number of song bird still continues to decline.
Anyway after watching magpies, and supporting them, until some conclusive evidence is produced Mr. Kite cycled home in the fading light for a tipple. Todays tipple was Wells Bombardier Burning Gold. Good health to all the magpies.
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see two magpies eating chips. Now living a hundred metres away from a chippy that sells crisp tasty golden chips it is not surprising that in the morning a few chips are scattered around the area. Staggering drunks often feed the birds inadvertently. Mostly black-headed gulls have the pleasure of a good chip but today it was the turn of the magpies.
Reading that the magpie population is increasing and that a scientific cull is planned to decide whether magpies and carrion crows are responsible for the decline of the song bird Mr. Kite was going to have a tour around admiring the magpie. Starting with the two chip eaters Mr. Kite was impressed by the way they emptied the contents of the polystyrene container onto the ground before holding the chip in their feet and devouring it.
Now today Mr. Kite bought a newspaper before his bike ride. This paper had a picture of a magpie and a recent quote about a lord caught fiddling and alluded to 'the thieving magpie'. Who does Mr. Kite have more sympathy for a thieving magpie or a thieving lord? The gregarious chattering magnificent magpie of course. Put the lord in a cage.
About midday Mr. Kite set off in the sunshine on a magpie appreciation tour. He saw a few on the way to Atcham and a few more in Attingham Park where they flew between the trees. Their large bodies and long tails stood out as they glided onto branches with such precision. On the return trip Mr. Kite watched three more hopping about on the ground bouncing along jerkily, noisily and confidently.
Mr. Kite gave plenty of encouragement to these birds and thought to himself; before blaming the demise of the British song bird on the magpie why not have a few years where pheasants and red-legged partridge are not reared and released into the countryside to be shot. Let the countryside have a few years where alien birds are not released into the woods, fields and copses and study if the number of song bird still continues to decline.
Anyway after watching magpies, and supporting them, until some conclusive evidence is produced Mr. Kite cycled home in the fading light for a tipple. Todays tipple was Wells Bombardier Burning Gold. Good health to all the magpies.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Saturday 29th January (All Things Bright and Beautiful)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window and was amazed by the spectacular sight of the crescent shaped moon shining brightly along side the planet Venus. This was a good start to the day and if Mr. Kite was a Druid he would have danced in delight. The street was quiet. A few cars passed and occasionally someone walked towards the corner shop. On a cold clear frosty morning a warm bed seemed a good spot but not for Mr. Kite; he was going to watch the birds.
On this chilly morning Mr. Kite had a small bowl of Dahl for breakfast. With a warm stomach he cycled along the river to toward the Quarry. The goosander, mallards, cormorants and black-headed gulls seemed to be enjoying the ice cold river. Birds were diving under the surface, others were happy just to swim along whilst others chose to land on the surface.
On the footpath Mr. Kite stopped to look at a pied wagtail. Now Mr. Kite's first interest was the word 'pied' because it means particoloured having sections or patches different colours and usually bright. This bird was black with bright white sections and patches. Secondly Mr. Kite was amazed by the white head of this bird that shone as bright as the morning star. If it was not so pied, black and white, Mr. Kite could have mistaken it for a white wagtail furthering the debate about Motacilla yarrell and Motacilla alba.
With only himself to debate the issue Mr. Kite cycled to Polemere nature reserve. The pool was covered in thin ice except for one small patch where the wigeon, mallard and teal congregated. In the still air and clear light Mr. Kite could see the delicate colours and patterned plumage of the ducks.
Mr. Kite has studied mathematics and specialised for a time in probability and statistics so he often thinks about chance and coincidence. Today as Mr. Kite approached a dwelling called The Curlews he noticed in the field opposite a solitary curlew feeding. Now thats what Mr. Kite calls coincidence, good luck, chance or even god moving in mysterious ways. Stopping his bicycle he looked at this lonely silent curlew. This large browny-gold and black wader was prodding the ground with it's long curved beak. This bird had found a watery hollow in the meadow that was not frozen and was probably enjoying the delights produced by Mother Earth.
Now Mr. Kite enjoys the sights the sounds and the smells of the Shropshire countryside. Today Mr. Kite had seen lots of memorable sights. The sound that Mr. Kite enjoyed today was the 'babbling brook' that he crossed using the ford. With the water level low Mr. Kite carefully rode the two metres to the other side and stopped to listen to the continuous sound of the brook. Why did Mr. Kite enjoy the sound? Because it was not too loud and it provided back-ground sounds to the birds calling in the nearby trees. Mr. Kite knew he was in the countryside and this leads onto the smells. Just after this was a hundred metre long pile of cow muck that smelled strong. Mr Kite is a positive person so he has to say that he has smelled better things.
After a day of enjoyment sensing Shropshire Mr. Kite has one more sensory experience to savour when he arrived home and that was his daily tipple. Todays tipple was Badger Fursty Ferret. This is a tawny amber ale with a sweet nutty palate and a hoppy aroma with hints of Seville oranges. Now Mr. Kite had air cooled this bottle outside the back door to perfection. Cheers from a bright and beautiful place.
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window and was amazed by the spectacular sight of the crescent shaped moon shining brightly along side the planet Venus. This was a good start to the day and if Mr. Kite was a Druid he would have danced in delight. The street was quiet. A few cars passed and occasionally someone walked towards the corner shop. On a cold clear frosty morning a warm bed seemed a good spot but not for Mr. Kite; he was going to watch the birds.
On this chilly morning Mr. Kite had a small bowl of Dahl for breakfast. With a warm stomach he cycled along the river to toward the Quarry. The goosander, mallards, cormorants and black-headed gulls seemed to be enjoying the ice cold river. Birds were diving under the surface, others were happy just to swim along whilst others chose to land on the surface.
On the footpath Mr. Kite stopped to look at a pied wagtail. Now Mr. Kite's first interest was the word 'pied' because it means particoloured having sections or patches different colours and usually bright. This bird was black with bright white sections and patches. Secondly Mr. Kite was amazed by the white head of this bird that shone as bright as the morning star. If it was not so pied, black and white, Mr. Kite could have mistaken it for a white wagtail furthering the debate about Motacilla yarrell and Motacilla alba.
With only himself to debate the issue Mr. Kite cycled to Polemere nature reserve. The pool was covered in thin ice except for one small patch where the wigeon, mallard and teal congregated. In the still air and clear light Mr. Kite could see the delicate colours and patterned plumage of the ducks.
Mr. Kite has studied mathematics and specialised for a time in probability and statistics so he often thinks about chance and coincidence. Today as Mr. Kite approached a dwelling called The Curlews he noticed in the field opposite a solitary curlew feeding. Now thats what Mr. Kite calls coincidence, good luck, chance or even god moving in mysterious ways. Stopping his bicycle he looked at this lonely silent curlew. This large browny-gold and black wader was prodding the ground with it's long curved beak. This bird had found a watery hollow in the meadow that was not frozen and was probably enjoying the delights produced by Mother Earth.
Now Mr. Kite enjoys the sights the sounds and the smells of the Shropshire countryside. Today Mr. Kite had seen lots of memorable sights. The sound that Mr. Kite enjoyed today was the 'babbling brook' that he crossed using the ford. With the water level low Mr. Kite carefully rode the two metres to the other side and stopped to listen to the continuous sound of the brook. Why did Mr. Kite enjoy the sound? Because it was not too loud and it provided back-ground sounds to the birds calling in the nearby trees. Mr. Kite knew he was in the countryside and this leads onto the smells. Just after this was a hundred metre long pile of cow muck that smelled strong. Mr Kite is a positive person so he has to say that he has smelled better things.
After a day of enjoyment sensing Shropshire Mr. Kite has one more sensory experience to savour when he arrived home and that was his daily tipple. Todays tipple was Badger Fursty Ferret. This is a tawny amber ale with a sweet nutty palate and a hoppy aroma with hints of Seville oranges. Now Mr. Kite had air cooled this bottle outside the back door to perfection. Cheers from a bright and beautiful place.
Friday, 28 January 2011
Friday 28th January (That Friday Feeling TGIF)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window as the gloom was lifting. The sun was just below the horizon and people were striding down the road with a slight smile. It was Friday and the working week was nearly over for some. Fortunately for Mr. Kite the working week does not begin.
After a leisurely cup of warm breakfast broth Mr. Kite was cycling to meet his birding companion for a few hours idly bird watching. The sun was warm and the wind was cool as they set out. House sparrows were making the most noise as the rode towards Sharpstone Quarry. The trees were leaf less and the hedges were bare. Just a few unappetising berries remained so the birds were feeding on the ground.
Fieldfare and redwing seemed hungry as they purposefully fed on the ground presumably building up their energy for the imminent trip back to Scandanavia. In a filed near Sharpstone Quarry hundreds of lapwing fed in the field feeding on the emerging creatures stirred by the warmth of the sun. This desert of sociable short-billed black and white birds with two antennae were unmistakable against the green background. Looking closely Mr. Kite could see their metallic green upperside and black bib. At interval one would take to the air showing their broad rounded black and white wings. The wing shape gives them manoeuvrabillity and the flying 'peewits' called 'peewit' as they flew straight, banked steeply and tumbled quickly back onto the ground after a short energetic flight.
Now Mr. Kite and his birding companion visited the usual locations on their way to Venus Pool looking at the usual common species. By the time they left Venus Pool Mr. Kite was losing the birding competition guestimate. To cut a long story short he needed four more birds for the draw. Atcham produced the pheasant, grey heron and kestrel; just one more species required.
Having shortened the story so far Mr. Kite will now elaborate a paragraph. As the two old men were cycling back towards Shrewsbury along the footpath eagerly searching for a pied wagtail, wren or hawk they saw a couple walking towards them. Mr. Kite stopped and perched himself on a barrier to let them past as it was narrow. Now Mr. Kite had his hood up in the chilly North-easterly and was looking towards the river. The male walker recognised Mr. Kite as an old working colleague. After more than thirty years they had not met because today this person was back in town on their way to a wake at the Mytton and Mermaid. So Mr. Kite had a very pleasant and engaging conversation with the 'man going to the wake' who also spoke to Mr. Kite sensitively about Mr. Kite's loss. C'est a vie.
Mr. Kite felt pleased to be remembered after so long and this person knew of Mr. Kite's sadness. With these thoughts Mr. Kite and his birding companion headed for the last location of the day; a pool on a housing estate. On arrival the birding competition was a draw; a moorhen was feeding on the grass. Now being a pool on an estate the birds are familiar with people and come towards you expecting to be fed. As the ducks and geese walked towards the bird watchers Mr. Kite looked at the long yellowish legs of a coot. What he noticed was as they retracted their legs their web foot closed and then opened as it approached the ground. It was a smooth and rhythmic action.
Soon the birders parted company and Mr. Kite headed home. In the garden he watched a blackbird flicking over the dry leaves under a bush picking at morsels on the ground. The dry leaves made a familiar sound that is often heard at this time of the year near shrubbery. Shortly after another common sound was heard, The releasing of gas as Mr. Kite removed the top of his tipple of Marstons Double Drop. Cheers to the workers; TGIF (thank god its Friday).
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window as the gloom was lifting. The sun was just below the horizon and people were striding down the road with a slight smile. It was Friday and the working week was nearly over for some. Fortunately for Mr. Kite the working week does not begin.
After a leisurely cup of warm breakfast broth Mr. Kite was cycling to meet his birding companion for a few hours idly bird watching. The sun was warm and the wind was cool as they set out. House sparrows were making the most noise as the rode towards Sharpstone Quarry. The trees were leaf less and the hedges were bare. Just a few unappetising berries remained so the birds were feeding on the ground.
Fieldfare and redwing seemed hungry as they purposefully fed on the ground presumably building up their energy for the imminent trip back to Scandanavia. In a filed near Sharpstone Quarry hundreds of lapwing fed in the field feeding on the emerging creatures stirred by the warmth of the sun. This desert of sociable short-billed black and white birds with two antennae were unmistakable against the green background. Looking closely Mr. Kite could see their metallic green upperside and black bib. At interval one would take to the air showing their broad rounded black and white wings. The wing shape gives them manoeuvrabillity and the flying 'peewits' called 'peewit' as they flew straight, banked steeply and tumbled quickly back onto the ground after a short energetic flight.
Now Mr. Kite and his birding companion visited the usual locations on their way to Venus Pool looking at the usual common species. By the time they left Venus Pool Mr. Kite was losing the birding competition guestimate. To cut a long story short he needed four more birds for the draw. Atcham produced the pheasant, grey heron and kestrel; just one more species required.
Having shortened the story so far Mr. Kite will now elaborate a paragraph. As the two old men were cycling back towards Shrewsbury along the footpath eagerly searching for a pied wagtail, wren or hawk they saw a couple walking towards them. Mr. Kite stopped and perched himself on a barrier to let them past as it was narrow. Now Mr. Kite had his hood up in the chilly North-easterly and was looking towards the river. The male walker recognised Mr. Kite as an old working colleague. After more than thirty years they had not met because today this person was back in town on their way to a wake at the Mytton and Mermaid. So Mr. Kite had a very pleasant and engaging conversation with the 'man going to the wake' who also spoke to Mr. Kite sensitively about Mr. Kite's loss. C'est a vie.
Mr. Kite felt pleased to be remembered after so long and this person knew of Mr. Kite's sadness. With these thoughts Mr. Kite and his birding companion headed for the last location of the day; a pool on a housing estate. On arrival the birding competition was a draw; a moorhen was feeding on the grass. Now being a pool on an estate the birds are familiar with people and come towards you expecting to be fed. As the ducks and geese walked towards the bird watchers Mr. Kite looked at the long yellowish legs of a coot. What he noticed was as they retracted their legs their web foot closed and then opened as it approached the ground. It was a smooth and rhythmic action.
Soon the birders parted company and Mr. Kite headed home. In the garden he watched a blackbird flicking over the dry leaves under a bush picking at morsels on the ground. The dry leaves made a familiar sound that is often heard at this time of the year near shrubbery. Shortly after another common sound was heard, The releasing of gas as Mr. Kite removed the top of his tipple of Marstons Double Drop. Cheers to the workers; TGIF (thank god its Friday).
Thursday, 27 January 2011
Thursday 27th January (Birding Blogs)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see the real world again. Today it was cloudy and people walked purposefully along the pavement rather than sip coffee and tea looking out of their caravan windows.
Today Mr. Kite was going birding by blog. That is googling to find a bird blog and reading it. So for much of the day Mr. Kite googled away discovering the world of the birding blog.
Later he enjoyed a tipple of Tetley tea as he read and read and read. Cheers from the blog world.
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see the real world again. Today it was cloudy and people walked purposefully along the pavement rather than sip coffee and tea looking out of their caravan windows.
Today Mr. Kite was going birding by blog. That is googling to find a bird blog and reading it. So for much of the day Mr. Kite googled away discovering the world of the birding blog.
Later he enjoyed a tipple of Tetley tea as he read and read and read. Cheers from the blog world.
Wednesday 26th January (Another Tick; a Black Swan)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window onto a cloudy Bristol with that persistent red robin still singing his heart out. After breakfast Mr. Kite packed up and drove to Clevedon pier to see the sea and a few birds. Plenty of black-headed gulls flew and cried around the elegant Victorian pier waiting for some person to throw them a crust.
On the shore sat oyster-catchers with their heads tucked in to stay warm in the bracing chilly breeze. A small flock of waders waded but being far away it was impossible to identify them. The only other bird was a dark pipit of the seashore; a rock pipit. In a chilly wind it was time to sit in the warm vehicle and look out before setting out for home.
Now the last tick of Mr. Kite's excursion was near the Riverside, Cound, where on New Years day three species of swan were present; today another species was present making it four species. The fourth species is not a white swan but a black swan; made well known by the Australian stamp of Mr. Kites childhood.
Soon after Mr. Kite was having a tipple of Tetley tea. Cha.
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window onto a cloudy Bristol with that persistent red robin still singing his heart out. After breakfast Mr. Kite packed up and drove to Clevedon pier to see the sea and a few birds. Plenty of black-headed gulls flew and cried around the elegant Victorian pier waiting for some person to throw them a crust.
On the shore sat oyster-catchers with their heads tucked in to stay warm in the bracing chilly breeze. A small flock of waders waded but being far away it was impossible to identify them. The only other bird was a dark pipit of the seashore; a rock pipit. In a chilly wind it was time to sit in the warm vehicle and look out before setting out for home.
Now the last tick of Mr. Kite's excursion was near the Riverside, Cound, where on New Years day three species of swan were present; today another species was present making it four species. The fourth species is not a white swan but a black swan; made well known by the Australian stamp of Mr. Kites childhood.
Soon after Mr. Kite was having a tipple of Tetley tea. Cha.
Tuesday 25th January (Mr. Kite Scores Three Hundred Year Ticks in a Few Hours)
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see the pale colours of the housing near the Clifton Suspension Bridge. A robin was singing nearby. Today it was another day of birding. That could be bird watching, listening to birds or just looking and thinking about birds and flight.
Now being in Bristol Mr. Kite went to the Bristol Art Gallery and Museum birding. The warm interior of the museum was a sharp contrast to the chilly wind that blew in the street. Inside the entrance a Jupiter radial engine was on display alongside part of the power plant of a Harrier jump jet that once had the name Kestrel. The lobby had a Bristol Boxkite suspended from the ceiling the first complete flying machine of the day.
Being Bristol Art Gallery and Museum there was a display covering Bristol flying machines and a history of their production and development. It was here that Mr. Kite saw the first bullfinch of the day. Slightly different from those red, black and white species that he normally sees this one can best be described as camouflaged braced parasol monoplane with roundels; being Bristol this was a model Bristol Bullfinch based on a 1922 real machine.
With this ticked off Mr. Kite visited the South-West wing, notice the pun, where wild life from the local area was on display. With an abundance of flora and fauna, whelks, winkles and water lovers Mr. Kite was soon ticking off smew, red-throated loon, fulmar, kittiwake, little auk and common tern to name but a few. But of course these birds were very cooperative as they sat nailed to their perch in the glass display cases. Later a copy of Audubon's great-blue heron was etched on a glass Steuben plate and nearby pictures painted by Edward Bird. Soon after Mr. Kite viewed all the birds, and animals, of the world in Jan Griffier's painting of Noah's Ark depicting the creatures entering the ark two by two.
Having visited every section of the gallery Mr. Kite only had one more gallery to visit; the evolution of the creatures locally including an early bird dinosaur called archaeopteryx. From here Mr. Kite slowly strolled along the remaining gallery to the British Birds where he completed his tick list with a few hundred more birds including swift, swallow, and sand martin.
With the staff in the gallery looking at their watches and putting on their hats and coats Mr. Kite knew that this was not going to be a Night in the Museum so he left the building with his notebook bulging. The last thing to do in Bristol was to make the Space Signpost point at a few planets. Disappointingly the display screen had the common error message 'disk error 394'; insert boot up disk. Mr. Kite only had his notebook and nearly empty pen so he went back to his holiday home to enjoy a tipple of St. Austell's Brewerys Cornish Indian Pale Ale. Cheers to the birds and beer of Bristol.
Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window to see the pale colours of the housing near the Clifton Suspension Bridge. A robin was singing nearby. Today it was another day of birding. That could be bird watching, listening to birds or just looking and thinking about birds and flight.
Now being in Bristol Mr. Kite went to the Bristol Art Gallery and Museum birding. The warm interior of the museum was a sharp contrast to the chilly wind that blew in the street. Inside the entrance a Jupiter radial engine was on display alongside part of the power plant of a Harrier jump jet that once had the name Kestrel. The lobby had a Bristol Boxkite suspended from the ceiling the first complete flying machine of the day.
Being Bristol Art Gallery and Museum there was a display covering Bristol flying machines and a history of their production and development. It was here that Mr. Kite saw the first bullfinch of the day. Slightly different from those red, black and white species that he normally sees this one can best be described as camouflaged braced parasol monoplane with roundels; being Bristol this was a model Bristol Bullfinch based on a 1922 real machine.
With this ticked off Mr. Kite visited the South-West wing, notice the pun, where wild life from the local area was on display. With an abundance of flora and fauna, whelks, winkles and water lovers Mr. Kite was soon ticking off smew, red-throated loon, fulmar, kittiwake, little auk and common tern to name but a few. But of course these birds were very cooperative as they sat nailed to their perch in the glass display cases. Later a copy of Audubon's great-blue heron was etched on a glass Steuben plate and nearby pictures painted by Edward Bird. Soon after Mr. Kite viewed all the birds, and animals, of the world in Jan Griffier's painting of Noah's Ark depicting the creatures entering the ark two by two.
Having visited every section of the gallery Mr. Kite only had one more gallery to visit; the evolution of the creatures locally including an early bird dinosaur called archaeopteryx. From here Mr. Kite slowly strolled along the remaining gallery to the British Birds where he completed his tick list with a few hundred more birds including swift, swallow, and sand martin.
With the staff in the gallery looking at their watches and putting on their hats and coats Mr. Kite knew that this was not going to be a Night in the Museum so he left the building with his notebook bulging. The last thing to do in Bristol was to make the Space Signpost point at a few planets. Disappointingly the display screen had the common error message 'disk error 394'; insert boot up disk. Mr. Kite only had his notebook and nearly empty pen so he went back to his holiday home to enjoy a tipple of St. Austell's Brewerys Cornish Indian Pale Ale. Cheers to the birds and beer of Bristol.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)