Like me, like me not

I was sitting by the Wayfarer Oak when a group of fat six-month-old lambs started running across the field toward me.

Wow, I thought. This is magical.

The lambs were gamboling and playful, adorable as fluffy clouds on a summer's day.

Then, they saw me.

So much for the loving lambs of God.

I'd fed the birds and briefly thought I'd spotted a rare tree sparrow.

But, no, a house sparrow.