Wake to "cooing" close by.
Nope Trish is still asleep - its a bloody collared dove sitting in the tree outside the window!
Can't really complain, can I? After all, it is St. Valentines Day and no doubt they are feeling amorous as well? The sap may be rising (in the trees) and things begin to pop up unexpectedly, so it will soon be time for these stupid birds to continually lay eggs on the roundest branch of the (council owned) Whitebeam outside my house and watch them roll onto the pates of unsuspecting passers by. Why don't these birds build a proper nest? Just imagine if we all built houses like that!They'd be marketed by Barretts!
Do you birders know that single girls who want to find out who they will fall in love with should go birdwatching on Valentine's Day, according to an ancient art called ornithomancy? The practise of reading signs from birds dictates that the first bird an unmarried woman sees is an omen of her future husbands character. Are you worried?
My Shamen tells me that anyone lucky enough to see a dove can be sure their future marriage is happy.
Good job the curtains were closed then! Or was it..........?
After this rude awakening, what better way to mark this VERY special day than huddling up in the Holywell hide, twiddling with my new scope and taking in the wonders of nature? Well, I am sure I can think of something better! Especially with the reserve being so quiet!
Nope Trish is still asleep - its a bloody collared dove sitting in the tree outside the window!
Can't really complain, can I? After all, it is St. Valentines Day and no doubt they are feeling amorous as well? The sap may be rising (in the trees) and things begin to pop up unexpectedly, so it will soon be time for these stupid birds to continually lay eggs on the roundest branch of the (council owned) Whitebeam outside my house and watch them roll onto the pates of unsuspecting passers by. Why don't these birds build a proper nest? Just imagine if we all built houses like that!They'd be marketed by Barretts!
Do you birders know that single girls who want to find out who they will fall in love with should go birdwatching on Valentine's Day, according to an ancient art called ornithomancy? The practise of reading signs from birds dictates that the first bird an unmarried woman sees is an omen of her future husbands character. Are you worried?
My Shamen tells me that anyone lucky enough to see a dove can be sure their future marriage is happy.
Good job the curtains were closed then! Or was it..........?
After this rude awakening, what better way to mark this VERY special day than huddling up in the Holywell hide, twiddling with my new scope and taking in the wonders of nature? Well, I am sure I can think of something better! Especially with the reserve being so quiet!
The weather was very still, with barely a wisp of wind and the sun at a low angle making the pond obsidian and gloomy. Meagre fare as well, with two drake goldeneye being the pick of the bunch. A few pochard, couple of tufted duck and a shy grey heron lurked around the far end of the pond, while a handful of greylags spend some time being bossed by a canada goose before settling down by the public hide. There were not many gulls either, a few black headed, herring and greater black-backed.
Lots of robins singing and the feeding station was busy, with a good gathering of greenfinch, goldfinch and the ubiquitous tits darting from feeders to treetops and filling the air with excited calls. The male Great Spotted Woodpecker made a transitory appearance before disappearing east, almost as if he had heard that most birders would be busy ensuring their other halves would be in receipt of love and affection, scant reward for months of absence in pursuit of ticks.
Luckily for me, my lovely lady is also a fantastic companion on trips out and even encouraged the purchase of the Nikon scope after we found my Spacemaster had more mould than a Stilton (following a drenching and inadequate storage)! Tom has therefore inherited the old scope, which appears to be encouraging him to take a greater interest.
As we left, we were treated to an influx of fieldfare into the far edge of the village, feeding amongst stubble. A total of 96 was counted but there must have been more out of sight.
Not the best of days perhaps, but my favourite bird was, as always, the one on my arm.
Not the best of days perhaps, but my favourite bird was, as always, the one on my arm.
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