Home thoughts

Juvenile blackbird

A warm, lazy day at home. I wanted to go haring off on a long-distance birdwatching jaunt, intent on getting them in in the window between starting to ease the lockdown and all hell breaking loose but I just let the trains and buses go and consoled myself with the thought that I could potter round the local patch, which I have neglected badly lately, but I just didn't get round to it.

The usual male great tit reappeared after a couple of weeks' absence the other day, the female turned up today. Whereas he was nearly in showroom condition having nearly finished his moult she, poor thing, is nearly bald and has a couple of loose tail feathers liable to fall any moment.

I'm going to have to start picking the boysenberries at twilight. Each evening I look out and see a fresh lot fully ripened in the day's sun and most of them are snaffled by the blackbirds in dawn raids. I don't begrudge them a share of the pickings but they've been a bit greedy this year.

I'd refilled the feeders and was picking my first batch of blackcurrants when one of the coal tits came in for a quick feed. At the same time the blackcap started singing in the sycamores on the railway embankment. I thought we'd heard the last from him, it's good to know he's still around after all. Also a relief was the six swifts hawking overhead, not huge numbers but they're still with us.