What a amazing sight it is to see, in the drab of winter this bright beacon of joy, fleets about the garden without a care. Like clockwork every morning he is on the gate post at 9 am and does his rounds, flying from post to tree to post, until he disappears into the dark foliage of the neighbors rhododendrons. He then reappears in the late afternoon tracing his steps back to the forested grove across the road.
