The storm which looked to hit our coasts, took another course and ravaged France and Germany, so we had just a bit of wind yesterday, not bad, and a quiet night.
That meant a clear sky, frost on the grass, and temperatures around freezing. The robins and blackbirds were singing already by 5 a.m., but the ravens were not calling yet.
I left the house at 7 a.m., to a glorious sunrise: golden sky in the East, pale pink sky in the West, and later the sun rising and rising over the rooftops. The raven calls I heard as I got into the frist field were soft, sparse, and coming from the boundaries.
As I got to the top of the big field, I saw two ravens sitting in the treetop of a tree in the spinney. Then I heard calls coming from Pontcanna Fields. They were quite loud, and one raven came swooping in from that direction, over the toddlers' playground, landing in the big field. Meanwhile, the two ravens from the spinney had also come down to the ground. These were the young pair, and as the single raven approached, I saw that this was my bold one. He was quickly followed by his companion.
