We have replaced our window attacking blackbird with a female, same species. Only this time she is halfway up the tall Westmorland window (a window shedding light onto the stairs, narrow and about ten feet high) where I cannot reach. Other windows still have on cling film to stop this incessant tap, bang, clatter as her bill has a go at her reflection. The film breaks up the image.
I can hear her in the background as I type. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
This is a cock blackbird for comparison. As far as I know he is sane.
The muck heap over the cattle grid is getting smaller and more spread out as the lamb gang crawl under the field gate and play King of the Castle. This scatters my precious resource so I am barrowing it down the garden to the veg beds. An extra mulch and some onto the compost heaps.
I have also been removing some of the hundreds of sycamore seedlings scattered across the garden, and ash.
This is the far corner of the garden. My strimmer man (now retired) cleared it in the autumn/winter. Since then I have mowed a bit, levelled a bit. What to do with it though we have not decided. Probably because R has not really become aware that the jungle has shrunk again and the garden got bigger.
Anyone got a Mrs Blackbird trap? Tat, tap, tap all day long, dawn to dark.
Yibbledeboobleyukbubbletibum!! I am going nuts! It is worse that water torture.
Right. change of thought - I have found my seed packets - they were on top of the old radio in my room. So now sowing is overdue. Anyway, can I really be bothered to sow anything that the slugs will just eat (and if not molluscs then mice or pigeons or something). I suppose I will have to get the sweet peas in even though a bit late. Two to a small pot and plant out when the danger of frost is over.
The stream where it comes down over the tree roots has decided to soak sideways and make the banking boggy. This will need some remedial work when I get some dry weather - come on rain!
The pots just get better and better. I must have put several layers of tulips in each. The pot in the middle is two ranunculi R bought locally. They are splendidly gaudy and cheerful. And finally there is the magic that is spring - everywhere - not just in the brown blackbird's head. Early morning sun and dew, backlit cherries and maples.
Just a minute - bye bye sun, here comes the wind and rain. Back to real British weather. Well, then I can have a lie in.
No, I cannot, that bloggy bird will be clattering its beak on the window above the stairs.
Anyone know of an avian psychotherapist?
What would Freud (not Clement), Jung, Adler (not Larry), let alone Pavlov (nothing to do with ice cream or ballet) have to say about this?
PS - Just been to Ford park garden and done my usual - not reading the instructions. It was a seed swap, so I did take seeds - including some aquilegia and meum athamanticum from my own garden, but I also took plants! Any way, we had a nice cup of tea and a chat with Sarah, and I gave her the chunk of variegated horseradish for the Ford Park garden as they had none.
Oh1 For their wonderful soil and many volunteer gardeners.