Nature Diary.

The Cute:

I have a blue tit’s nest outside my kitchen window. I saw one of the little guys sitting on the nearby hedge this morning, with something that looked like a small caterpillar in his beak. I wondered why he wasn’t eating it, or taking it into the nest. Then his mate flew out of the box, joined him in the hedge, and fluttered her wings. He gave her the caterpillar. She returned to the nest; he flew away, presumably to fetch another one. It’s at such times that I realise the limits of my cynicism.

The Dramatic:

On the other side of the house, I have a bird feeding table outside my living room window. Two days ago I saw a hen pheasant fly onto it and begin feeding. An unfamiliar cock bird flew down, knocked the hen to the ground, and began having his way with her. There was an immediate flurry of activity as the hen’s mate ran up the lawn and attacked the intruder. A brief fight ensued before the bad guy took flight. Today, I noticed that Boss Cock has a limp. Must be tough for the men folk at this time of year.

The Spectacular:

I saw my first two swallows of the summer today. They were hunting insects at low level over my garden. There’s nothing to touch them for aerial mastery. Size for size, nothing that Lockheed or BAe could build would come close. The swallow is probably my favourite bird – except for my friendly robin who follows me around the garden wanting a private little pile of rolled oats.

The Hazardous:

Something is eating my raspberry plant, the one that’s taken three years to get going! I suspect the culprit is a young rabbit that’s taken to hanging around in my garden. I love rabbits to bits, and there’s no way I would harm him. It’s a joy to see him skipping around and trying to peer under the greenhouse door (which is exactly what Rabbit does at one point in my novel – who says life doesn’t imitate art?) At the same time, I was getting excited at the prospect of having fresh raspberries this year, and I tend to develop some fondness towards my plants, too. I decided that the best solution would be to move the plant into the greenhouse. It was a trickier operation than you might think, because plants often don’t take kindly to being moved. I made sure I dug well down to keep the roots in the original soil, and then struggled to get this damn great weight on two spades up the lawn and into the greenhouse. I spoke nicely to her through the whole thing. I explained the benefits of being moved, like not getting eaten and being warmer, for example. I hope she agreed. Time will tell.

Other news:

I might have an announcement to make soon about a second blog. I’m still mulling it over. Watch this space.