It must be hard, living with thousands of other puffins at Sumburgh Head on the southern most tip of the Shetland Islands.
Sometimes the colony is a busy place and you just have to turn your back on your neighbours. Is this a marital dispute, neighbours not getting on or just puffins working together to keep an eye out for pesky gulls coming on a raid??
Whatever they are doing it reminds me of the poem that no-one really knows the origins of, but everyone knows a version of some sort....
One dark night, in the middle of the day.
Two dead boys went out to play.
Back to back, they faced each another,
Drew their swords and shot each another.
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to kill! The two dead boys.
If you don't believe my stories true,
Ask the blind man...He saw it too.