Bird House

For some, coming home to a waggy dog is the perfect end to the day. For others, a cat which entwines itself.

As for me, I’m happy with my own company.

Almost.

Since the weather got colder I have had a strong urge to put out the bird feeders.

And the birds, previously aloof, have been reminding me too. 

From my desk I see our local flock of starlings eating berries from our yew; the blackbirds from the cotoneaster.

Finally at the weekend, I hung out the birdfeeders.

The first time in our new home.

It took just one day for the birds to discover them.  To robins, blue tits, great tits and coal tits, we are now the local Tescos.

It also took just one day for two squirrels to unhook the squirrel-proof feeder (name on the pack – “the Fortress”), and then carefully unscrew the lid. 

They then scooped out the peanuts with their little hands.

BUT instead of eating them, they began to bury them in various parts of the lawn.

And now I’m sitting here worrying that it is a metaphor for something.

Maybe I should get a dog.