Startled blackbird

Dust-bathing in the bark chips under shrubs by the James Hutton memorial garden.

He turned, cocked his head a little, then just sat, feathers spread and beak open, but still and silent.

Mr Hutton's focus was on the nwar incomprehensible scale of geological time, but i think he might also have paused to commune with the wee mite of life that is a blackbird.