bish blog

It’s becoming a problem… not a big problem, but a problem. The local wild birds are eating the chicken feed faster than the chickens. I don’t honestly mind; after all we have seed feeders all over the back garden and it would seem daft to worry about a handful of layers pellets getting devoured in the front. I wonder, though, when the girls will work out why they have no food. Perhaps I can persuade the Starlings and Blackbirds to lay some eggs in return…

Well, cold enough for us over here anyhow! It was minus five when I awoke this morning, on the weather station above chez bish, and we’re in a small dip between hills and shielded from the worst of the winter winds. It’s clearly having an effect on the local wildlife, as we were today oversailed by a couple of buzzards, who normally keep to the woodland. And this evening the heron was back and took up a twilight watching brief beside the pond. He’s been here all week, and with the nearby streams all icing over I guess he’s getting peckish. Ought we let him take a couple of fish…?

I’m not a twitcher, but I think this is a male Goshawk. Might be a Sparrowhawk, but the belly looks whiter and the feathering over the top of the legs indicates Goshawk (twitch, twitch!) That’s certainly no longer a fledgling blackbird, anyway…

It found today’s evening meal in our back garden close by the deceptive lure of the bird feeders… There appear to be no ankle rings so this one is a wild bird. Lovely to watch from the bedroom window as it tore into it’s supper, the picture was taken with high ISO and through the glass of the bedroom window so forgive the graininess. When finally I dared slowly open the window for a better look he glared at me for a moment and scarpered!

How wonderful it is to be back on British Summer Time! “What?” you explode, “is he completely barking?” Well yes, but you knew that already.

I woke up as usual this morning, just before the alarm went off. But this time it was yet still dark, early dawn. And the dawn chorus was in full … chorus. How wonderful. You don’t realise how quiet it’s been all winter until you get to hear the multitudinous voices of the dawn wakening. Beautifully, shiveringly, ecstatically gorgeous. It’s impossible to count the number of birds in the trees at the edge of the garden, there are occasional recognisable phrases from the closer blackbirds, bluetits and chiffchaffs, the early wren and the still reddened robin but they are woven in amongst a wall of sound from the rest. Lover of Radio 4 news though I am it is joyous to turn off the bad news and wake up to the knowledge that we haven’t killed it all yet.

Do yourself a favour. Wake up early tomorrow and open the window.