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The ending to the saga that began with The house, the tree and an ending poetic
The bastard’s disappeared. It banged away in my eaves for two days, then nothing. The same day as I wrote about him he buggered off… or died. In my eaves. That would be cool. Thats kind of poetic.
A beautiful life cut tragically short in cold, dark isolation.
SIMONS WOODPECKER EGG