It is coming in many shapes, such as these:
Although I had a great day walking around, my mind was elsewhere. I have lost one of my birds today, this tiny little guy:
Ten years and four months for a blue tit is a positively paleolithic span of time. When they survive to adulthood (and it is estimated that only 10% to 20% do), they are lucky to live less than 18 months, what with all of the predators out there. Well this little darling, whose name was William, was found by my dad when he fell off his nest as a tiny baby, even more tiny than you see here, if at all possible. He could have ended up splattered on the road had it not been for dad's attentive eye. I kid you not, it is like he goes around with a radar around springtime; William was not the first, and will certainly not be the last, bird whom he saved from certain, death by tyre in front of his shop. I do not feel like saying too much right now since I am so very upset. But one thing I can say for sure: you can do great things with a very small brain. Tsee-tseee-tseeee.