Eyefood

The 51A has an annoying habit of taking a long break at the bus stop just after the Drysalters pub sometimes. I guess it must be because we sometimes miss out stops when there’s nobody to pick up or set down, and the driver gets ahead of the timetable.

Or something.

This evening though, as I gradually cranked up Air on my iPod to drown out the deafening sound from the girl-in-front-of-me’s iPod, I caught sight of a Great Tit in the tree next to my window.

It took me a couple of moment to realise what must have happened - it must have got snagged at some point, and caught there - but it was dangling, by the neck, lifeless, suspended from a branch on a piece of what looked like fishing wire. A tiny little feathered suicide.

Well, maybe it wasn’t the saddest thing ever. But it was pretty heart-wrenching nonetheless.