This morning Buster and Dolly and me walked along the recyling lane in pouring rain - it really was grim. But as we got close to the Ynys-hir Hall Hotel I was able to see and hear a Mistle Thrush, (seemingly unbotherd by the deluge) singing its heart out from the very top of one of the oak trees.
It's not acquired the name "Stormcock" by accident.