Views of my world

By rosamund

Spring

I'm committing to an early blip today.

You probably know I have been trying to encourage wee birds to my garden and followed some good advice to try putting out bird feeders. After another relaxing evening last night I was ready to get up early again today and make the most of the morning before I go off to our WSD guild meeting this afternoon.

I took up my position with a cup of coffee and my camera at the living room window to see if the birds were attracted to yesterday's new feeder in the oak tree and it has been non-stop action ever since.

I'm fascinated to watch the interactions of the birds and have a better understanding of where the term 'pecking order' might come from. The birds are mostly very polite and patient, they have a queueing system kind of like when jets spiral above a big airport, they hang about in the tree, getting lower and lower, until it's their turn on the feeder. Most only use it when it is free but there were a pair of blue tits feeding together at one point. There have been coal tits, great tits and Mrs Goldfinch all using the feeder. Mr Goldfinch preferred to pick the dropped nuts from the ground below and was joined by a chaffinch and a wee sparrow, although one of the great tits took exception to this and tried to chase the poor chaffinch away. Chaffie was having none of it though and appeared to be the victor as he is still pecking away happily and the great tit has not returned.

I never thought I would get so much pleasure from watching a few wee birds but I suppose it's to be expected. I was brought up by my grandmother who always had a bird table outside her kitchen window so she could watch the wee birds while she was working away. She taught me all their names and I can remember the common ones, only referring to the RSPB website when I need to double check.

The one thing I need to learn is their birdsong, I haven't a clue. She knew them all and would try and teach me when we went out walking together before I became a surly teenager. It's for the little things like this that I really miss her, she would have loved to sit here today at my dining table, overlooking the Clyde (her home turf), passing on her stories and wisdom to me, and her great grand children who still talk about her and have treasured memories of her. Christine and I were laughing last week at how like her we are becoming as we mature in years, I'm sure our teenage selves would have been appalled at the thought, but now, we can't imagine anyone else we would rather be like.

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