We have adopted a little bird, I suppose the truth is that a little bird has adopted us.
Over the last five weeks while we have eaten on the terrace he has got closer and closer.
Originally he would perch near us on the tree, then possibly after I started leaving out crumbs for him, he has braved it onto the terrace while we are eating.
This morning as we ate breakfast he perched up on the berbecue and neatly picked out bits of meat from between the tines of the turning fork, which was there since we had cooked last night’s lamb.
He is a breed that I havn’t noticed before in Ireland, he looks dowdy, dull, and grey but then when he flies he displays the glorious red of his tail.
We have more or less established that he is a Black Redstart, and since he has now become a family member I said to Sile, at breakfast this morning that we must name him.
Had she any suggestions?
Sile paused for a very short time and weighed the question.
“Stendhal,” she said decisively,”because he wrote, Le Rouge et Le Noir.”
So he is named, an inspired choice I think for a Black Redstart.