In the bleak chilly wintery-mix-filled air above our front yard today this rare large group of robins descended on our holly tree and stripped it of its red berries. The term for a large group of robins is a breast, I have learned. I drew so fast, not bothering with precision, just so caught up in the swirl and swooping of the birds. A couple of non-robins timidly pecked at the ground nesr the house.
By contrast these six sheep, last spring’s lambs, are laden with bales of wool and move slowly, browsing in the bleached grass of the pasture. I love their swagger and awkward stretches.