I was tidying up after working in the front garden and as I put a bucket down by the shed I saw, out of the corner of my eye, what looked like a small leaf. Sadly what I thought was a leaf turned out to be a dead wren and picking up the little corpse it was almost weightless, it must have only weighed a couple of grammes. The farthing, our smallest coin before decimalisation, showed a wren on one side that was a good choice of image given the size of this tiny bird.
Goodness knows what killed it, there was no way it could have been for food, unless it was one of the black and white terrorists otherwise known as magpies that administered the fatal blow. They do feast on small birds and the contents of their nests, well they do as long as I don't get sight of them.
We have quite few wrens pinging around the garden and they are also in the wild and overgrown garden next door and I must say say their song in the morning is an absolute pleasure although now we have one less to serenade us.
Never mind, life goes on even in the avian world.