oil on board
20cm x 20cm
How could anyone NOT love a British robin?
I mean they're the friendliest of birds - cute, perky, hoppy-skippy things to boot.
With a perchance for hanging around human beings when there's the chance of something tasty on offer - you're sure to meet one.
So it was on Sunday, I went to my favourite haunt - Waddesdon Manor - a National Trust property owned by the wealthy Rothschild family of bankers etc. Originally created by Baron Ferdinand over a 100 years ago (I'm sure he didn't lift a trowel or slap on some mortar or dirty his hands in any way) to house his vast collection of antiques and paintings in order to delight and surprise his small circle of friends.
He was one of life's show-offs.
The house and grounds were shrouded by a freezing fog that hung like gossamer in the air and there were few people about.
They have a couple of alfresco cafes which are open all year round for those brave souls (me) who venture out and are willing to sit on sheepskin covered seats in sub-zero temperatures and eat nuclear hot soup and the like.
One of the alfresco cafes ( my favourite)
Having been on numerous occasions, I know the birds are exceptionally tame and friendly. So within a minute a little robin sidled up to me, hopped on to the table and indicated he wanted to share my meal. He eyed up the rye bread slathered with butter and ignored the cup of soup. Fortunately, I had my camera at the ready and clicked away as he danced and pecked about the table.
I've tried to work on the 'value' thing again! Can you tell?