Right. Time for emergency birds. Starting with this mallard.

Blue tit, not here for any of your nonsense.

Fulmar, deciding whether or not to crap on me.

That goldfinch I heard singing at Covent Garden a couple of weeks before lockdown, two million years ago.

Twite, posing.

Black-headed gull, ruffled on a beach.

Wood pigeon, unimpressed by everything.

Coot, daring you to laugh at its feet.

Heron’s back.