Cornwall is flecked with birds; gulls and guillemots, seagulls and shags feed off the shoreline, murmurations of starlings rise from the moor and in summer the cuckoo’s call and the lark’s song can be heard high over the fields.
Backyard hens scrabble for scraps while the stately heron slowly flys the valley, seeing off an attempted murder of crows.
Some foolish folk try to cage the wild birds, domestic birds make a powerfully noise and the sleek black feathers of a cormorant’s wing disguise a Bluebeard. The red billed Cornish chough just may be King Arthur in disguise.
