Are you screeching at me?

I was working away this afternoon when a fox started screeching from nearby. I glanced out the kitchen window and saw this pair. Bushy Black's ears were flattened back and and he was letting out a high-pitched wail. The larger fox on the left didn't seem too bothered by the nonsense. It reminded me of a persistent child and its mother. Then I wondered if the larger fox might indeed be Bushy Black's mum – it's near time for her to reclaim her den under the shed if she's pregnant. This has been Bushy-Black's territory for nigh on a year (with occasional visits from Skinny and another), but Fox Mum, if it is she, obviously still has the command. The extra photos show the after-screech scenes.

Today was another mix of blustery, sunshiny, rainy weather. Last night, the garden took a battering, but all was OK come morning. Well, apart from the puddle on the windowsill, indoors – the horizontal rain was a little challenging for the Victorian brickwork (must do something about the pointing). The garden was full of goldfinches, sparrows, starlings, great tits, blue tits, robins and blackbirds between showers. I'm glad they didn't get blown away.