Buteo, Buteo...

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Having spent the meat of the day at Jane's aunt's in Saltney, Chester - installing a towel rail rail or two in the bathroom, and not installing the bathroom cabinet we'd bought for her as there was one panel missing from the flatpack; I'm just going to make a diary post tonight and defer my overdue Deck of the Week posts (last week was a no-show, too) until tomorrow.

When I was looking through stuff and generally messing about beim Wintergarten after we'd gotten back from up the coast, I heard a familiar bird call: the peee-uu of a common buzzard, but much louder than normal - at which point the bird flew low right in front of my window and only just above our garden from the direction of the Ffridd; then wheeled up and into the thermal he/she was looking for to join their partner: both soon high above us in the familiar paired circle, calling all the while. Common might be it's appellation, but they're uncommonly beautiful to me. I love 'em...

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