Cherry blossom! There wasn’t very much, admittedly, but Algy was delighted to see it all the same. Perhaps it really was spring at last! The mist had cleared away, the sky had turned a pale shade of blue, and it even felt almost warm in the sun for the first time this year. So Algy spent a happy hour or two among the blossom, listening to Mr. Blackbird singing from the top of Algy’s own tree.

Listen to the blackbird singing to Algy as he sat in the cherry tree, with the sheep chiding their lambs in the background.

Algy’s tree had at last got a beautiful new coat of spring green, so despite the fact that it was dripping wet in the persistent Scotch mist, he couldn’t resist spending the afternoon on its cushion of soft new needles. He hoped that if he spread his wings out far enough, he could keep the water off his book. In the distance, another of the recently arrived summer visitors was calling to him …

Listen to the sounds Algy heard as he was reading in his tree.

Algy Perched in Mist or Cloud

          In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
          It perched for vespers nine …

With the sea lost again in the dense Scotch mist, Algy spent a gloomy day in the larch tree, practising his recitation of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, that cautionary tale which every young albatross is required to learn by heart.