Disappointment in the garden.

When I was in Cardiff last week my dad gave me a bird table he made a few years ago. I brought it back to London and it came up a treat after a quick lick of creosote.

I attached it to my garden fence excitedly, scattered seed liberally inside, and sat back and waited for the birds to descend on my urban oasis.

I'm still waiting.

The seed is piled up, untouched, like yesterday's leftovers.

The birds are nowhere to be seen.