As the gales began to die down, Algy sat himself up, brushed himself off, and gazed at his lap. He was still feeling rather stunned, but was pleased to see that he was not the only thing that had been knocked out of the rowan tree by the wind. It looked like breakfast time 🙂
Published by The Adventures of Algy
The adventures of a unique and surprisingly fluffy bird in the wild West Highlands of Scotland. View all posts by The Adventures of Algy