Last of the cold days?

We were a tad lazy this morning - I woke of my own accord when the sky turned grey rather than black, but the sun had risen before I was clothed and (more or less) in my right mind ...which I fear may be becoming a cliché these days: sorry! The morning stayed sunny and attractive, so that I hung out more hapless washing that didn't dry, and marched off briskly down town to post cards and buy more wild bird food, the little blighters having scoffed a full feeder in the last 24 hours. They are worth it, though - coal tits and blue tits, with one great tit on his own; dunnocks in hordes; one robin - all lurking in the philadelphus waiting their turn while I sit inside drinking coffee and watching them. 

It didn't last. Some time after lunch the clouds rolled in and the wind began to rise, so that our walk (we are like dogs, really) was taken along the Ardyne shore road into the teeth of a baltic gale (ok, I exaggerate - but it was cold, gloomy and rather miserable) and was the kind of walk that makes you glad you did it - after you're home. I didn't take any photos...

Which is why you're getting another attempt at the arty look with one of my sunrise photos - the one I had to hang right out of the window to get. I'm not sure quite whose style I'm emulating here - van Gogh? - but there was no talent involved in the making of this picture. 

It was very noticeable tonight on the evening news that the war in Gaza has slipped down the schedule, while Ukraine seems to have been forgotten altogether. So much misery and torment, demoted by the misery disseminated by the inept government of this country during the pandemic. 

They're keeping the ineptitude up too ...

As I write this, I become aware that it's raining and blowing a hoolie on our front windows.