I popped over to Portishead tip this morning before work, but think I was being watched. Spending a lot more time in the tip, sorry recycling centre, than a man of my height should it gave me a bit of a start seeing this bunch in the understory. Are these covert-gnomes, assessing how many green bags of garden rubbish I surreptitiously unloaded? Or maybe they're spies for jackdaws and peregrines which live in this old quarry turned refugia? Either way I shall watch my step the next time I off load my 4 green bags and a purple trug of twiggy-bits.
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