The thing that pleased me most today:
There is a small hole next to the waste water pipe. In the mouth of the hole is a piece of concrete, about the size and shape of a pumice stone. It balances there, strategically blocking the entrance to a tiny cave, a cavity in the wall of our house, caused by the removal of an outside tap. Why someone thought that we would no longer have any need for such a convenience is by the by, for the hole is now home to a family of great tits.
Because it is directly positioned under the kitchen window, I lose count of the number of times in a day I see the adult birds diving with red arrow precision through this tiny hole. After they departed the nest last summer, I considered moving the precariously balanced piece of cement, but decided against it. They have no trouble getting in and out and it means that the nest is safe from the prying beaks of strutting magpies and the dabbing paws of cats or foxes.
This morning one of the tits paused in his journey between apple tree and nest, perching casually on the rose bush just outside my window. A small grub was visible in his beak. I felt so pleased that he was able to keep his little family safe inside my wall. I like to go and stand in the garden, tentatively creeping nearer without damaging my flourishing rhubarb and emerging sweet peas and listen to the meep meep meep of the chicks in the nest.