This afternoon I was weeding a border a few feet away from the bird
table. On my hands and knees as it were and with my back towards the
aforementioned garden feature.

I suddenly felt a sort of movement in my hair. A slight flick of the
arm (fork in hand) and the feeling went, only to return a few seconds
later. Drop fork, remove glove from hand and feel head. Something on
hand. Move hand in front of face. Baby green finch now looking at me
without a care in the world.

Baby finch stayed on hand as I stood to see half a dozen of them
pecking at the bird table. Not an adult in sight. I moved my hand to
the table and baby jumped off and started feeding with his/her
siblings. I went back to weeding and they were still there when I next
stood up to empty the weed bucket.

Sometimes you really feel privileged that nature has decided to give
you a bit of a boost. Ah! The innocence of youth! No doubt that baby
finch will fly a mile if I walk out into the garden in a couple of
weeks' time. But something in me says wouldn't it be wonderful if it
recognised me and landed in my hair again.

And I can still feel the "claws" on my finger.

Cheers, Jake
=======================================
Urgling from the asylum formerly known as the
dry end of Swansea Bay.