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Bird Troubles.

On my way to the old Oak Tree on Dartford Heath, I noticed that many birds were flying in the same direction as I myself was going. I sat myself down on the comfortable roots of the old Oak Tree. Looking up I expected to see the wise old owl. All I could see were birds, Wrens Sparrows black birds even some doves had made themselves comfortable on the boughs of the old Oak Tree.

Suddenly the wise old owl flew to the branch just above where I was sitting on the roots. The owl greeted with her well known too wit, too woo. Then she spoke. Mr Shaw this is but a small delegation of birds there are hundreds of thousands more waiting to see what will come of this our meeting with you. I must admit I was a little puzzled by the whole thing, why a delegation of birds to come to me, What have I to do with birds. I do not breed birds, I certainly do not hunt birds. In fact I enjoy the sight of birds of all kinds, in fact I will let you all into a secret, I envy the birds they can fly I cannot fly and it is I think the only thing lacking in my life. I sat up a little straighter and asked for the birds to speakor to tell me why a delegation to see me. After all I am only y man .I have no special powersand I do put food and see that water is in my garden in the winter for the birds apart from that I cannot think of anything in common with our feathered friends. The wise old owl trimmed her feathers yet again then she spoke. Mr. Shaw you write stories about the Fairies to please the human children. Well the birds, that is the sparrows were in the garden of a house where many children live. The lady of the house reads stories about Fairies to the children. These stories the Sparrows have spread all around where birds are. Not one of the stories are about birds. Now the birds are threatening to leave this part of England forever if you do not write a few stories about birds. I thought for a while and this was my answer. I would be the last that did not want to see birds flying and nesting here in this part of England. Why this large demonstration with threats behind it. That was not at all necessary. I am a man that looks forward every morning to listen to the dawn chorus sung so beautifully by my friends the birds. A word or two in the ears of my friend the wise old owl and I would have willingly written some stories about birds. If you are all perched comfortably I will tell you a story now. Those that are too far away others will telly you my story. Like all good stories my story starts off with, Once upon a time there was a red breasted robin, This robin often flew past brightly lit windows he often saw a man with a sack full of toys for children. The robin did not always have a red breast it was like a sparrow but seeing how popular this man dressed in red robes had become he decided that he too wanted a red breast to show all the world that he too was a kind hearted bird. One day one of the windows was open. This thought the robin is my chance I will fly into the window and see what I can use to make my breast red. In lew the robin but flying in a room is not so easy as flying out in the fresh air. It happened all so suddenly a cat sprang from the floor onto the table. The robin saw the cat and realised his danger and flew up into the air he did not see the pot of red paint on the shelf and landed in the pot of rad paint. Ever since he has tried to get rid of the paint but it has sunken so deep into his feathers and skin that now all robins have a red breast from their birth on till they all go into the Bird’s Heaven. That is the end of my story tell it to all of your friends and later on the wise old owl will tell you all another of my bird’s stories