New neighbours

They seem to have moved in. Who? The starlings.

Each morning, as I venture towards the kitchen my ears are assaulted by their raucous cries.  Now, this year, whenever you venture into the garden you hear them everywhere. Come the evening they outcompete with the more mellifluous sounds of the blackbirds.

They seem to have moved into, & presumably nested in, the huge tree in next door’ garden. When we first moved here, nearly 20 years ago, that tree was the nesting place of the collared doves. After many battles, some fatal, the doves yielded to the magpies. Now the magpies have given way to the starlings.

As for our insect house, that is definitely proving an attraction to the bees. Some hollow tubes have been blocked off for eggs to hatch. Most times when you look at the house a wriggling striped backside can be seen up a tube, hard at work. We put the house just near the lavender, always a bee attractant.

The garden has really filled out now. The pergola midway up the garden is covered with a mass of white clematis & sweetly scantly mauve wisteria. Further up the garden, beyond the white lilac tree & the large white hydrangea, huge pink clematis flowers have opened up. Today some dark purple & yellow irises have unfurled. There are azaleas, red, pink & white. In the wild garden under the silver birches bright red poppies are appearing. The Solomon seal is flourishing & laden with its creamy seals. Summer is definitely here.

The Birdwatch

While I was on-line yesterday, I put in my bird observations for the RSPB Garden Birdwatch.

On Monday, at the Pub, Al, our gardener, had commented that he'd done the birdwatch. He sat for an hour & in that time all he could see in his garden was 3 house sparrows. He'd found it frustrating as he could hear tits, even a woodpecker, nearby but no sighting. His garden is adorned with feeders. The problem is that he also has a cat who sits hungrily watching the said feeders. The birds are too scared to visit.

By way of contrast we had no fewer than 16 starlings, 4 magpies, 4 blackbirds, a blue tit, a great tit, a house sparrow & a collared dove. The number of coloured doves in particular has gone down this year. I have noticed a pile of pale grey feathers on the edge of the flower bed. I suspect that's the last of that dove. There is no sign of a body but I suspect it was the falcon that sometimes visits. The other great loss is in the number of house sparrows. We used to regularly have double figures, but no more it would seem. Is that the consequence of last year's vicious winder? Indeed it is mainly the smaller birds that have reduced in number. Or is it that the increased number of bigger birds is intimidating the little one? I wonder.

What a performance!

I've just been sitting by the kitchen door , looking out of the window with bird book & binoculars near at hand, while I listened to the omnibus "Archers" on BBC Radio4.

I couldn't help being struck by how many dunnocks & coal tits we seem to have this summer. They seem to be constantly feeding, either from the feeders or the ground below.

But what really bemused us happened yesterday. It was one of those meals which involves long waits between flurries of activity (a chicken tray bake in fact). During the intervals we looked out of the windows. On our shed roof was this blackbird. Its back was turned to us. It kept making this noise. At first I thought it was a a "chuck-chuck" sound till the Fox commented it was more of a "tut-tut". He was right. Each time the bird made this sound, it flapped its wings close to its body. Its tail feathers fanned out & dipped up & down. This performance kept going for several minutes.

I couldn't quite decide whether the actions were a necessary part in the production of the sound, so unlike the usual mellifluous song the blackbird usually makes. Or whether this was an extra means of attracting the attention of other blackbirds. 

Either way it was delightful to watch. I couldn't help chuckling a bit.

Something lurking in the hedge

I scrape the new potatoes this morning to a great deal of cheeping.  I progress to par-boiling the potatoes & putting the meat loaf together ready to bake this evening. As I sit waiting for the potatoes to complete cooking I become aware that the cheeping seems to be coming from the hedge behind the greenhouse. I then notice, despite the windless day, the hedge keeps having little eruptions of movement. When I go to the compost bin near the greenhouse I do contemplate having a look into the hedge but my very presence going by, brings instant silence & stillness. I decide against it. From the position the movement & sound emanates from, I suspect the wood-pigeons now have young. Congratulations to them!

Alas the same can not be said to poor Lisa Allen. Not a single course of hers got through to the People's Banquet. I have to admit though, from the shortlist the judges had made, they did make the same options I would have made. The dessert is the only course I may have differed. For me the popcorn barrow was too bitty &, on the whole, not the flavours that appeal to me. I would have gone for the meringues with the raspberries. Still, I can see the barrows were fun &  that was what the banquet is supposed to be all about.

I gather we're all supposed to be partaking of the Big Lunch for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee next year. I can't see us being very bothered by it. Lunch is not a meal that greatly appeals to us. We don't usually eat it. And if we do, the most we want is a couple of sandwiches, a bowl of soup or a jacket potato. I don't expect the rest of the street could be bothered either. They didn't for the Royal Wedding earlier this year so I don't expect they will for this occasion either. We're certainly not going to propose it.

A good trip

I couldn't resist having a break from the consultation document to tell you about my wonderful trip out on my Mean Machine, electric scooter. As so often, I was off to the fish shop &, as usual, I went along the prom.

As I approached the prom the first thing that struck me was the number of dogs, all accompanied by plastic bag carrying owners. Balls flew in all directions. Some dogs gamboled in the shallow water of the slowly ebbing tide.

I continued on. As I passed one stone jetty, I was surprised by the sheer number of birds. The waders were out in force scooping up any food left on land or in the last bits of water. First there was a flock of black and white birds - oystercatchers, too busy fishing to stop to make their high-pitched piping. As they ended, a flock of tall brown waders, curlews I suspect, did their hunting. Between their bony legs a flock of smaller birds, knots I think, scampered. On the damp sands were the gulls.

On I went, bought my smoked haddock, then returned back along the prom. By this time the water was much further out. I couldn't help noticing how many runners & cyclists were passing, headphones in their ears. I wouldn't want to do that. Apart from the fact I find headphones irritate my ears, to miss nature's sounds would be such a loss. I could hear the whistle of the wind, the gently lapping of water on the sands, the calls of the birds from the piping of the oystercatchers to the raucous screams of the gulls, the cheery greetings of my fellow prom users.

I continued along to the doctor's as far on the other side of us as the fish shop is on one side. I stayed on the prom more or less to its end. At this end of the prom, the cliffs give way to open fields, usually inhabited by a horse or two. By this time the fishers had largely moved off. The oystercatchers had moved into the fields on the land side of the prom. Presumably worms etc making a tasty alternative after the more salty fare they'd just had.

Eventually I reached home. my fingers were frozen, despite wearing my gloves all the time. I was ready to put my hands around a nice hot mug of tea. It had been enjoyable trip, even if cold. 

As for the smoked haddock that made, along with a little smoked salmon, a thoroughly enjoyable, moist, tasty,smoked fish tart for our dinner treat.

A woodland visitor

I'm just settling down to my mug of tea, when the Fox suddenly asks "What's that?" I look out of the kitchen window into the garden in the direction he is looking. What indeed.

I hastily find my glasses. Low down, half hidden behind the twiggery, a flash of crimson is moving. My immediate thought is that it's going to be a goldfinch, with its red clown's face. But no, it is too big a bird.

The binoculars & bird book are hastily found.

By this time the shape of the bird is more apparent. The movement of its head instantly makes us realise it's a woodpecker. It's pneumatic drill of a beak is pecking away at the cracks in the tree's bark.

Now we only have to decide which woodpecker.

It obviously isn't a green one. The back is definitely black & white. Eventually it moves around a bit. Suddenly there's a second flash of crimson. This time it's on its rump. It has to be a great spotted woodpecker. It certainly is a bit bigger than a starling but smaller than a blackbird.

In the summer I remember hearing the rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker drumming somewhere. Is this the culprit? I wonder. Our garden is full of trees & shrubs. They've clearly encouraged this woodland visitor to come a-calling. We feel privileged & touched by a little bit of nature's magic. It's the first time either of us have ever seen a woodpecker. Magic indeed. I hope he comes again.

New residents

A huge sycamore tree stands in our neighbours' garden, by the dividing fence. As it is deciduous, it is bare at the moment. 

While sipping my mug of tea at the dining table, for one moment I thought it had regained its leaves. Bear in mind I'm short-sighted & wasn't wearing my glasses at the time. I finally realised the dark leaves was in fact a flock of starlings. They've obviously decided this is a good vantage point to watch out for the arrival of food in any of the gardens around.

Usually this tree is the domain of the magpie The collared doves did try to nest there one year but have since decided there's more peace in the evergreen tree on the other side of the lawn. There was just too much harassment from the magpie who was highly protective of his own burgeoning family. So the status quo has remained for several years now. The magpie won't be too happy with all those starlings, that's for certain.

Strange sounds & innocent pleasure

"What's that?" I wondered. I could hear a strange sound. I had gone along to the fish shop on the Mean Machine, my electric scooter, & was on my way back. I looked up.

The building in front of me was a Gothic monstrosity, the sort of place on a dark night you could imagine bats circling & vampires haunting, lived in by the like of the Munsters or the Addams family. In fact it is a pub. High on top of the roof is a central section, taller than the rest, with a fancy wrought iron frill.

I suddenly noticed the wrought iron was moving. It was covered with birds, all chattering away. I suspect they were starlings from their size & darkness.

I turned the corner on to the prom. A couple of very young unclothed children were playing in the fountains, closely supervised by their mother. I couldn't help wondering if the sight of such pale unfeathered creatures cavorting in this way was what was causing the birds such amusement.

I found myself coming home with a half-smile on my face remembering such innocent pleasure. I was surprised these days the children were allowed to play unclothed like this, but why not. There were few around to see & the only person paying close attention to their activites was the mother.

Circling the tree

I popped over to the garage ie our wine cellar for something to chill for dinner. As I went my eyes were drawn into the garden. In the central rockery there is a columnar evergreen tree. Al, our gardener, had volunteered to take it down earlier this year as it is largely dead. The leaves have been browning & falling rapidly with just the dry brown twiggery left. I'd said leave it a bit longer. While there was still some green it might as well stay there. At least it stops weeds growing in that spot & I hadn't thought about what to do to replace it.

Anyhow around this tree, half a dozen small birds were circling, occasionally diving into the twiggery. I just had to investigate the phenomenon. I slowly neared. Once the birds noticed me they flew off into another evergreen tree nearby. I'd got sufficiently close to see they were some sort of tit, though without my glasses (I'm short-sighted), they were too small for me to identify which. I looked at the dead tree. No nest, so what was the attraction? I went back to find the wine.

An hour later the birds were again circling the tree. This time I got my glasses before I ventured out. Again I approached the tree. Now I could identify the birds as coal tits, a whole family I presume.

And the attraction? I suspect the dead tree was crawling with insect life, in other words dinner was the attraction. Even if it doesn't look very pretty, maybe we ought to leave that dead tree there longer....

A flash of gold

I was just in the midst of a telephone call giving PD a friendly telling off for not telling us that Fran, our mutual friend, had had an accident while we were away, when my eyes were caught by a flash of gold at the bird feeders. What's this? I wondered. I'm sure it's not a greenfinch, but what is it?

Earlier this morning, I'd dug out our binoculars as we were bemused by an unusual bird we'd seen over dinner last night. It looked not unlike an oversized robin. But it was so oversized it had to be a member of the thrush family, possibly a female blackbird. It certainly seemed friendly with the other blackbirds in the garden, yet it had this very rosy breast. Our only conclusion was it had to be an adolescent female. Nonetheless, the binoculars were out ready this morning, in the hope of getting a closer look at this phenomenon.

Instead I trained the binoculars on the two mystery birds on the feeders. Sure enough they were goldfinches. We've lived here nearly 10 years now & only once before has a goldfinch visited. Neighbours have all said they've heard them from our direction, but as I don't know their song that hasn't helped much.

This pair have discovered our feeders at last. I hope they become regular feeders. Their red faces & bright yellow wing flashes are a welcome bit of colour in our garden.

By the way, the birds that featured much on our French holidays were jays & a blackcap. The blackcap was the regular garden visitor once he discovered our food offerings that I mentioned in my blog a few days ago.

Jays seemed to abound in all the nearby woods. I've only seen them a couple of times in my life in this country, but we saw a couple most days in Provence. Their russet colouring, fluffy crests & bright blue wing flashes were a source of joy to me.

Oh, and by the way, after a quick visit to A&E, it was discovered that Fran has severely sprained her ankle. There's massive internal bleeding but nothing actually broken. She's spent most of this week resting it up, so it's dubious if she & Den will make it to the meal on Monday. i hope she does. It's not as though there's much walking involved & she is a very gregarious person who thrives in company.

Flying feathers

My eye's caught by a flurry of movement outside the kitchen door. It's a pair of blackbirds. They're too involved in their battle to notice a pair of humans watching them not a yard away.

The fight is intense. They become a whirling spiral of black feathers, rising high in the air. They return to land to start again.

And the cause of all this activity? Across the gap in the nearby wall hops a female blackbird. She seems utterly nonchalant, seeking grubs to fill her tum. But, I suspect, until she decides which one she prefers these battles will continue. The feathers will continue to fly.

Down to the fish shop

I'm just back from a trip down to the fish shop on the Mean Machine, my electric scooter. It was quite a balmy trip there. The sun shone. The tide was on its way in. By the time I came back, the weather had changed. The sky had clouded over. The water was much further in. The wind was getting up, the sea roughening with white horses. I was glad I'd wrapped up well with boots & gloves.

On the journey I was struck by yet another sign of the coming spring. The black-headed gulls were whirling around. Most were in their summer plumage, a few still in transition.

I've never understood why they're called black-headed gulls when their summer heads are a dark chocolate brown, not black. I suppose from a distance it is may be easy to think of them as black-headed as then you are only aware of the heads as being very dark. Or maybe it relates more to their winter plumage when their head are white, with a dark mark behind their eyes, too small to distinguish the real colour. Whatever the reason that's their name.

Eager eaters

I've just finished making a chicken curry for dinner tonight.

As usual I cut off any visible fat & put it out for the birds. It didn't take long for Mr & Mrs Blackbird to find it. They took it in turns to feed. Yes, I think they're paired off again. The table is rapidly cleared.

I sometimes think our birds keep their beady eyes open to see if I come out of the door & wait to see if I go towards the feeders & tables. If I do, they're always quickly there to check what goodies I've brought them that day.

Still it's a small price to pay. I love to watch them in the garden. They repay my attentions with endless entertainment.

New visitor & good(?) food

I was surprised to discover I new visitor to our garden this morning - a wood-pigeon. At first I assumed it was yet another feral pigeon, but somehow it looked different. It looked fat, grey backed, pinky purple breast. Then I noticed on its neck the distinctive white flash with a hint of green above & pinky purple below. Definitely a wood-pigeon.

Otherwise this morning is back to normal. I've already prepared the dinner. Potatoes peeled, sprouts peeled, pork in its sagey breadcrumb coat. All ready for a quick diner tonight.

Last night we watched "Michelin Stars - the Madness of Perfection" on BBC2. I have to confess it confirmed some of my doubts on the starring system.

What is perfection in food? Some food comes beautifully presented but is often not satisfactory as a meal. Equally, so often a dining experience can be spoilt by bad service - either because of too long a wait, or too officious service with the result the flow of conversation is constantly interrupted. Sometimes it's just downright pretentious. For that matter Michelin-starred food is usually too rich to be wanted on a daily basis. But does this make it good or bad? I'm not sure.

My thoughts have been on this matter partially because of our forthcoming trip to London. There are so many Michelin-starred restaurants there. I had wondered as a 60th birthday treat for the Fox we shouldn't try one, the more so when I saw a special price offer in a magazine.

Ultimately I've dismissed the idea. I don't want to book a table. I want us to be able to go where we fancy to eat what we fancy when we fancy it. And that may well be fish & chips or an Indian. Above all I want it to be a meal that is a pleasure where we can enjoy good food & each other's company. It may or may not have stars, but enjoyment is the mark of a good restaurant for me.

A quiet morning

It's a quiet morning for me today. The Fox is in charge of dinner. He's making a main course soup - all veg & cannellini beans - followed by a ready made pizza. So there's absolutely nothing for me to do, not even to get the spuds to peel.

It's just as well. Yesterday we got home from the Pub. I got the veg on while I looked at a nice piece of salmon. I got some cream cheese out of the fridge to mix with some cranberries, lemon & garlic to discover the lady I'd asked to reach it down from the high shelf in the supermarket had given me cream cheese with pineapple. I didn't fancy the pineapple with the cranberries & lemon. The Fox hastily popped to the nearest shops while I got on with the rest of the meal. After all the effort I'm relieved to say we both thoroughly enjoyed our baked crusted salmon - beautifully moist & tender.

So what to do this morning? I'm thinking I might finish the Dick Francis novel I'm reading. I've only the last 20 pages to complete. Then, having read a friend's blog on his gardening activities, I'm thinking I may try & get a bit of tidying down in our garden. At the moment the ground is still white from the overnight frost, impossible to pull weeds out of. It is sunny today with a hint of warmth so hopefully in a little while it will have softened a bit. I just hope then it won't be too sodden to walk on.

The last couple of nights, as the twilight has come to an end, we've been serenaded with birdsong. They're definitely on the job of establishing their territories & finding mates for the summer ahead. It's gorgeous to hear.

They're back

They're backing. Over the winter months, our greenfinches had disappeared - to warmer climes if they had any sense. But this morning they were back. Great flashes of yellowy green as they flew to & from the bird feeders. It's great to see them again.

As I was going down to the fish shop this morning, I thought I'd best go on to the pet shop for some more bird food. The last of the sunflower seeds were already in the feeders. And the flock of greenfinches look set to devour them rapidly.

As I went along the prom in the Mean Machine, my electric scooter, I couldn't help remembering everybody's comments at the Pub yesterday. I think everyone had come in and exclaimed over the sheer beauty of the bay. The water was so still & so blue, the fells crisply defined across the other side, looking almost alpine in their snowy white coats.

This morning the light was different. As I went along, to the left, the water side, a heavy black cloud glowered. Below this was a brilliant icy-looking blue/green strip glowed, followed by the white of the fells. To my left, inland, the sky was totally different. Here it was bright, deep blue with the occasional puffs of white cloud. I wondered which sky would win. By the time I was homeward bound I knew the answer - the sunny side. The heavy black cloud had disappeared & been replaced with an inch-thick layer of white cloud.

It's good to be alive on such a day.