I'm glad I'm not a bird

I've been watching these pigeons on the roof outside my office all morning, off and on. There's a howling north-west wind and they've decided the best place to shelter is on the south side of the roof, in or near the gutter. I could think of better places, but they're not called bird-brains for nothing...

On a day like this I'm glad I'm not a bird. Or a dog, stuck outside with a mere dog-box with an open doorway to shelter in. OK, mine also have a verandah, but they still look slightly damp and definitely chilly when we get home at lunchtime. I'm glad I'm not homeless, or living in a shack constructed from zinc sheeting where the wind whistles through the gaps and the rain turns the floor into a lake.

There are now 23 birds in that gutter across from my office. Birds of a feather flocking together. I'm glad I'm not them.