PREVIOUSLY on the scruffy little garden…
Tragedy with the Great Tits, who abandoned their nest beneath the tiles, but cheerful hourly visits from the solo Dunnock, quietly hoovering the mess left by almost everything else. And the Collared Doves, always here as a pair, always together.
I thought Sparrows might be nesting in the hedge by the front door, but that too proved to be a no show.
It was OK, I was content with the show as it was, although fledgling Great Tits would have been a treat. Still, there has been and there is plenty going on. It’s a peaceful small patch, no cats, none to speak of really, just a prowling ginger tom at the front; and a grey squirrel but even he seems to be a rare visitor now. No, it’s all pretty bird friendly.
But this evening the Collared Doves returned and it wasn’t just the pair. They brought with them three slightly scruffy, slightly smaller fledglings.
I always see Collared Doves as marble-smooth and pristine, but these were a tad ungainly, more patches of grey than cream, and bit spiky rather than that neat onyx sheen. Their collars are there but undefined; there is the last hint of nesty fuzz.
Like teenagers on their last holiday with parents, they skulked about and sat glumly just out of reach.
They’ll be off soon, probably tutting and huffy, embarrassed by Mum and Dad getting amorous again. Typical.