Part of the daily routine now at work is an hour most mornings managing the staggered and distanced arrival and departure of 700 or so kids and adults through the school gates.
As I walked across the playground to open up the gates a Chiffchaff hueeted from the sunsoaked ivy clad ashes that border that side of the school. "Shame it's not a Yellow-brow" I thought. Almost in synchronisitous response the feisty "tzuuuet" call of a Spryte pierced the air, calling a couple of times. I had to get on with the job in hand and unlocked the gates for the afternoon pick up, perhaps the steady flow of folk through the playground encouraged it and the Chiff to move on as I heard nothing from either of them again.
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