Home thoughts

It was a wet and dreary day, the first of many we're promised for this week. I had a couple of plans for avoiding the worst of the weather and a couple for getting wet but it would be worth it and all were kiboshed by such a long catalogue of cancelled trains I had to check it wasn't Saturday. I decided to have an early lunch and go out and get wet locally but then got sidetracked with a technical support call for my father then got home and found I had to sort out the same problem at home and by the time I'd finished with that I wondered if anything would actually be about: it was so gloomy at lunchtime the day shift would be going to roost and the night shift would be keeping undercover hoping the rain might abate a bit.

The carrion crow had started singing before dawn. It was a good hour later that the wren belted out its claim to the back garden and the robin rather later. I think this Winter I'm in the middle of a robin's territory rather than the edge, most of the singing's happening a few doors down either way. I was confused for a while as to the territories at the station but I think that what's happened is that the boundary runs diagonally along the line, one bird having most of the Western end of platform two, the Eastern half of the park and the steam roller's garden, the other having the rest of the station and the first terrace of houses along.

Grudging respect to the squirrel, by the way, for finding a way into the squirrel-proof feeder. Literally. I'd thought I'd been careless putting the lid back on the other day but I've just watched it take three minutes to open the spring catch and lever the lid open. It then hung upside down in the tube filling its mouth pouches with sunflower seeds before struggling its way back out backwards.

The absence of woodpigeons isn't as striking round here this year compared to last. There's usually one or two around the school and today I passed half a dozen on the way to my father's. Still nothing like the big Summer flocks or the relatively small but constant presence we have over Winter. There's still just the one collared dove kicking about though, I don't know where the others have got to.

It's half term so the usual gang of gulls tooled up to school bang on what was lunchtime last week, found there was nothing doing and headed off for the Trafford Centre. A couple of herring gulls lingered to dance for worms on the playing field but soon tired of the sport and followed the gang. It'll be interesting to see what happens next week when they come round at what is now 11am, find nothing doing, go away and find out they missed on the return to school lunchtime bonanza. I don't know what mechanism they use for passing the news around but I know they must have one, they always start drifting in in numbers a few days after the start of the Autumn term after a lean Summer.