A fledgling blackbird - I think

What I think is happening is: the fledgling blackbirds have just climbed out of the nest and their father is flapping around them like the helicopter parent he is, clucking, clicking and foisting bits of caterpillar on them.

But I’m not sure, because I’m not too good on birds. I’ve spent half the morning trying to decide if this is a fledgling blackbird or a starling.

It’s just one of the many distractions of working at the bottom of the garden in the summer.

Nevertheless, I have managed to get about 2000 words down today, including a rather steamy shower sex scene, and I tinkered around with a synopsis for my first ever novel, which is languishing somewhere on my hard drive. I really like it, but is completely different from anything else I have ever done. I suspect it’s more of a movie, really, and my agent has just got back saying that he thinks that I’m right about that. Perhaps I’ll get down to it while the first draft of #2 is setting.