Today I had a rude awakening. A male nuthatch landed on a big bough on one of the grand old beech trees next to his amore. I stood entranced as he sidled up to her. Then they started their rarely seen ‘pendulum display’. Both birds stately sweeping their bills from side to side, synchronised like swimmers. At first beside each other, then tail to tail. This went on for several minutes, interspersed with three or four well!, I’ll leave that to your imagination. She ‘fluffed up’. He flew off. Typical male. Now she’ll have to decide which of the many holes to lay her eggs in. Will she let me into this secret?.
Entering the cricket pitch I spotted a female roe deer . Wonderful rich brown sheen on her, and a mouth full of dewy grass. We stood casually sizing each other up. It was ok till I tried to raise my bins. The pain of my fractured ribs caught me. I winced. She heard me and bolted into the ramshackle orchard beyond the old practice nets to lay up for the day. I envy her dozing there beneath the blossom, dreaming of autumn apples to come.
On the way back into the house a great tit flew into one of the neighbours’ extractor fan vents. The bottom flap of three had fallen off, or been removed. Now the tits are in the tube. An adjacent vent has had the two lower flaps removed. The pied wagtails are in there. Now I have another moral dilemma on my hands. To tell or not to tell?. That is the question. This will need a cup of tea, and maybe a chocolate biscuit. Time to put the kettle on