Stealth bombers dominate our front garden feeders.
Silently they crowd the seed provider, with a
considerable amount of spillage
cleared up by robin Ron for whom this particular container was provided,
and larger birds like blackbirds
The voracious field sparrows dart onto any vacant perch. They engage in fearsome face-offs. Spreading or violently flapping their wings and viciously pecking they dive-bomb their rivals to take their places at the trough.
It is hardly surprising that a collective noun for sparrows is a quarrel.
This afternoon Jackie went into the garden in search of Nugget, who she photographed as he cocked his head awry.
“Where’s Nugget?” (60)
She thinks the solitary crow on our rooftop is Russell, who latched onto her in its infancy in June 2018.
She also photographed
the Weeping Birch,
an owl on the stumpery,
and emerging snowdrops.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent beef and mushroom pie; creamy potato and swede mash; firm carrots and Brussels sprouts; tender cabbage; and thick, tasty, gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Garnacha Syrah.