Small pleasures

I took a break from type-setting 242 individual drum patterns mid-morning, taking good coffee and a toasted bagel into the sharp, icy sunlight. Sitting on the step below the shed, stock still, gazing at the motionless fish in the pond, I became aware of little flicks of life just above my head. I turned my neck stealthily, teeth chattering and hands scalding on the coffee cup. A small flock of long-tailed tits, stripping the hawthorn of sleepy insect-life, and making my day.

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