Celebrating with the run of the mill

Where that phrase comes from, I don't know. But it expresses what I want to share today, the everyday, rather than the biggest, best, worst or abnormal. Here is the most normal and because of that it's cherished by me.

I have hardly got going today in normal terms, nor has Helena. We have been slobbing about, enjoying lying in bed with crossword puzzles, books, re-run radio programmes, and some indie-ish music on Radio6 in my case. I hoped the rain which was torrential when we awoke would pass by, and it did. But although the sun has shone weakly, I haven't felt like rushing outside at all. I did however spot that the bird feeders had got so wet in the rain of the last few days that the seeds had become stuck and weren't falling into the emptied trays at their base. So I wandered outside the back door and shook them till they cleared and then went into the garden and refilled the hanging trays with suet and seed.

Briefly two longtailed tits appeared hunting for spilled seed on the ground, rather dangerously given the number of cats generally found hanging about the gardens. I thought they might re-appear, but my presence seemed to have driven them off. But that is impossible with Blue Tits. They are always there, or here, and can't be kept from feeding. Which is probably why I like them so much. You can rely on them.

The RSPB website says that there are 20-44 million pairs of Blue Tits in Europe, with 3,600,000 'territories' here, meaning that there are that number breeding in the United Kingdom, and more than 15 million wintering here from October to March. So the mid-winter solstice probably means a lot to them, and they will notice the change in length of the days and celebrate as much as I do the coming of the light. I am not so sure that they will celebrate at midnight tonight in any meaningful way. And by the way it is going I'm not sure that Woodpeckers and I will be; we will take it as it comes and be happy at that.

See you all next year.