My Crimson Neighbour

Sometimes I forget the sweet pleasure of looking at birds and listening to their songs. A dear friend reminded me of that forgotten feeling by singing his very favorite song, twice this afternoon, in my presence. Without his permission, I took the liberty of taking a few pictures. He wouldn’t mind though. He doesn’t care much about my silly engagements.



    1. Thank you dear angel in the dust. It’s the male crimson sunbird. I don’t know what we silly humans call that flower.

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