MOST mornings when I pull back the curtains I'm greeted by the sight of a couple of obese, moth-eaten old pigeons squatting moodily on a neighbour's roof.

Our indifference is mutual and second glances are rarely exchanged, except last Thursday when I registered that one of them had seemingly got a lot taller and skinnier overnight; so tall and skinny in fact that when the blear began to clear it was obvious that I was gazing at a heron, balancing on its long spindly legs on the roof coping opposite.

A truly extraordinary sight; all grey and white elegance, it teetered there for a full 30 seconds before casually tilting forward with the grace of an ace high board diver and gliding effortlessly down and out of sight, presumably to plunder a gourmet breakfast from somebody's ornamental pond.

From magic to the mundane, a few moments later I glanced out again to see the two usual occupants unpretentiously back on their perch, unfazed by this glamorous interlude and clearly quite certain of their pigeon identity.

And that's a lesson our Prime Minister might take on board when he grows up. Our silver spoon-fed, Eton and Oxford-educated Boy Dave has decided he doesn't want to be a toff, so he'll be wearing a lounge suit instead of Moss Bros tails for the Royal hitching ceremony.

That said, my dear old Mum, God rest her, would have found Dave's odd-looking quiff to be damning enough evidence. In pre-pubescent days when I possessed hair which actually reached my forehead, and such quiffs were actually in fashion, she would flatten it with her hand and admonish me with the crushing words: "You look just like a corner boy."

I never ascertained exactly what a corner boy was, but as this was a woman who, before May 1997 was out, perceptively declared that Tony Blair would prove a prime ministerial disaster because his eyes were too close together, you can imagine she wasn't someone to be trifled with.

Meanwhile, as for things not appearing what they seem, the Nazi and Goebbels insults are flying over the referendum few people want on whether to vote AC or DC at the next election. It reminds me of a trendy primary school sports day I once reported on, where they gave the sprint prize to the kid who came fourth because "he tried hardest".

Incidentally, I swear I heard Ted Miliband tell the Today programme last week: "Britain does not exist as an island." Pigeon English anyone?