Growing up in north London, birds did not feature a great deal – too much traffic. However, I clearly remember as a child going to sleep in the spring/summer with bird song. I now know that to be a blackbird . . . as it says ‘on the tin’ this is a bird that is black with a beautiful orange/yellow beak and rimmed eyes. There were others . . . the cheeky robin following my dad around as he gardened and sparrows chattering in the bushes hiding the neighbours.
Having spent most my life in the South East, it was quite an eye opener when moving to Devon . . . there are so many different ‘garden’ birds. Who knew? It’s hard enough to learn the names of these creatures flitting about in the trees let along the song. However, my friend (also from the South East) has an ‘app’. Its simple. You record the ‘noise’ and, magically, it tells you what you are listening to. Wonderful. Even better is her two acre idyllic garden backed by a wooded area, a stream, hedges, a grassy knoll, fruit trees . . . and Paul’s bee hives. Above this magical place fly owls and kites but, this time, on Diane’s bird feeders is where Andy focussed his attention . . . staying very, very still . . . watching and waiting . . . finally, getting some pictures. Chaffinches, blue tits, great tits, dunnocks etc . . . and an arrival of the woodpecker. Who knew that to spend time watching these tiny creatures flit too and fro would be so rewarding. Oh and the piece de resistance . . . a hare came bounding up the garden heralding spring’s arrival.
Thanks to this special place somewhere near Horns Cross . . . a few photographs.
