Woodcock, Waterloo

Stooping carefully, I see what I have. Two wings, legs, breast meat partially removed. I lift the remains and look around. No sign of the head. Only the perfect woodcock form spread into my hand.

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Brazen buddleja

Picture the urban scene. The chimney with a plume of bush, not smoke. The stuttering guttering, become plant container. The rubble filled wasteland temporarily knotted with growth.

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