This delicate little thing was found on the Farm by my mother, and she of course saved it for my collection. Can’t be quite sure what sort of bird it’s from; a long, slender beak may speak to the anatomy of a Starling, but it seems a bit small. Whatever it was, it casts quite a shadow.
One of these days I’ll borrow a DSLR to shoot some decent photographs of my apartment, known by the chickens as the Museum. The wall of skulls is about to hit peak before becoming altogether too morbid, but they do look well amid the library stacks in here; a very Natural History vibe. All I’m missing is a leather wing chair.