Beaks and beady eyes

It would appear that, in the absence of a dog, I am developing

an affinity with birds.  Down at Plot 6 a blackbird has

taken rather a shine for me and is trusting enough to take

worms straight from my grubby fingers.

I've called him Marlon.

 

Martin Brothers "ugly birds" of a feather, flock together.

 

It's a slightly different story at the Lock-Up.  Here I get all

the feathered dudes that no one else wants to feed.

All the odd balls, the outcasts and the downright ugly

make their way to my little nest. 

And very welcome they are too!

 

Marlon's brother up to no good as usual.

 

They come in all shapes and sizes from a tiny wren with

attitude problems who lurks about in the acacia just spoiling for

a fight (any suggestions for a name?), to a scrawney old hancer

fresh off the marshes just looking for his breakfast.

 

The Black Arrows display team tucking down for the night.

 

Then there's the hundreds of starlings who roost close by.

Every evening around dusk they put on an amazing aerial display

which never fails to enchant, then they crap all over poor Jake

minding his own busness in the car park, before settling down.

very loudly, for the night.

 

We're hungry.

 

There's also an ancient rookery over the way who's residents are

alway callng in for a bite to eat.  Everyone else chases them

off as they can be quite unnerving en masse but I adore them.

Quite often when I'm working away at my computer I get the

distinct feeling I'm being watched only to look up and see

a dozen or so of my wicked, scruffy chums all lined up on the

fence silently willing me to get them some food.

 

Sorry ducks, I'm not allowed to keep pets.

 

The wackiest of all has to be the pair of mallards who have taken

to wandering about on the roof opposite eyeing up my pond.

Please don't let them be looking for a place to nest -

there's barely enough room here for me as it is.

 

Can you see what it is yet?

 

And finally, just the briefest glimpse of my current WIP

flung hastily over the back of the sofa as those promiscuous

pigeons are copulating of the conservatory roof again

and even I have to drawn the line somewhere.

Go on, shoooo!  Bugger off!