In which birds are saucy...

My dearest Mother, 

Life is quiet in the country. It is much different to Town life. Everything is so much more vivid. It is beautiful.

I no longer miss the sights and sounds of London as I have taken up the hobby of bird watching. Apparently it is a great passion of the Squire, Mr Ramsbottom. He has been showing me all the places that the little Tits can be found.

Last Wednesday he took me to a secluded clearing on his property and showed me a White-Breasted Nuthatch. Mother, it was exhilarating.

He has also shown me his collection of art. He is a wonderful artist. I confess my favourite was his watercolour of the Red Bellied Woodpecker. Oh mother, it was beautiful, he gifted it to me. It is now hanging in my bedroom where I can see his Red Bellied Woodpecker every day.

I have heard tales, as well Mother, that there is a nest of Tufted Titmouses nearby. Mr Ramsbottom and I have made plans to seek out these little darlings and expose them to the county.

 There is also a dance scheduled in the next week. All of the eligible young men and women in the area will be there. Oh I do hope they like me. I am making such and effort not to be the spoiled brat that you sent to the country as punishment.

Do you think any of them will be interested in bird watching as well? I do hope so. I would dearly love to tell the tale of how I stumbled on to the home of a Brown Thrush.

I hope to hear from you soon, dearest Mother.

Your loving daughter, 

Euphemia