My back garden has been renamed the nursery right now. Baby birds of all descriptions are vying for position on the feeders, teetering on the edge of branches and pestering their poor parents to death. At first it was the blue tits which caught our attention, six babies and their two extremely harassed parents, flew wobblingly from washing line to willow tree in turns. There were lots of crash landings and several false starts. Goggins lying in the sun on his favourite chair looked up, puzzled. He seemed to be saying 'Did I chase those once? Should I remember what they are? Are they something I should be interested in? Never mind I'll just go back to sunbathing.' The babies didn't know about cats anyway and just ignored him too. Even I stood less than 3 feet away and they just looked at me as though I was some sort of mobile perch.
Next up came the sparrows. Their training ground was fence to washing line, washing line to magnolia, magnolia to fence. 'Whoa there, maybe I'll try a suet feeder. Missed it, Oh OK I was really trying for the mock orange. Overshot that, OK, fence it is then." Their parents found a ready supply of kid-sized meals on the suet feeder and flew backwards and forwards from feeder to gaping mouth all day long.
The greenfinches were in hiding lest Misty and Nelson should find them. Apparently my wayward cats prefer the taste of greenfinch, or at least they did last year. So far this year there have been no catches at all, my tellings-off must have done some good. When temptation got the better of them, the greenfinches too brought the family to feast at the all night diner. More aggressive then the sparrows, they dislodged them and ruled supreme for a few hours until their arch rivals the starlings flew in.
Starlings, now that's another proposition entirely. Since they appeared, the garden resembles Saturday night at a rough wedding reception. They don't fight the other birds however, the stupid starlings fight amongst their own family. Drunk , or overstuffed with peanuts and suet, they squabble, taunt, push and shove. The noise is amazing, you'd think from the sound there were fifty out there, but no there are only 5 at the most. The parents try to bring them into line but their wayward children peck them instead. squawking and hissing and flying at each other. Then a fight between three of them breaks out and away they fly in winged combat, leaving the feeders in peace, just right for the little coal tits to fly in, grab a nut and retreat to the top of the willow before the angry starlings return.
In the midst of this mayhem, the goldfinches swing on the niger feeders and watch everything. No one else likes their food so they're happy. Well mannered and cheerful they ignore the rest of the rabble and twitter to each other companionably. Two little siskins too remain from the flock which arrived in late December, they must be breeding here but no sign of any babies yet.
It's been a real education this year, more babies than we have ever seen. It's hard to believe that 23 years ago no bird ever visited, there were no trees, no cover and certainly no free food. poignant then that this will be my last season in this garden. The new one awaits, barren and cheerless save for a lone robin who defends his territory from the apple tree. Time to make some changes then and ensure that next years babies are just as well fed.
1 comment:
Another beautifully written post Jas. We've had a family of bluetits which are indeed rather bold. I love your description of the starlings which are real scallywags. I must get a different feeder for the goldfinches which Joe Brown's rather keen on encouraging into the garden. We also have a spotted woodpecker (mottly black and white with red flash - I think that's what they are) which is good to see, occasionally a jay and there's an ever-present robin who gets cheekier and more bold by the day.
Post a Comment