The magpies are out in force on a lush velvet baize of freshly mown grass
They browse assiduously for breakfast titbits nestling in the damp earth
Suddenly a small member of the party flies up as if startled
And clamps itself to the slim torso of an oak sapling
It pecks frantically at the bark, chirruping
As if it knows a secret that the others don't
Then the little magpie is off again
First hopping across to a cherry tree still ripe with blossom
Then onwards to another small oak where again it clings in vertical position
This is the strangest magpie I have ever seen
In fact it is not a magpie
It is a greater-spotted woodpecker
Antenna
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