Squirrels, Magpies and Pigeons

It is the beginning of the second week of January. Already Christmas is a fast-receding memory, as happens if you do not celebrate it in your own home. It is almost as if it did not happen. No decorations to take down, no leftovers in the fridge, and no tree in sight.

A squirrel is on the window sill. A magpie flies in and settles on the topmost branches of the apple tree. The squirrel bangs on the window. I wave to him and cross the kitchen to fetch a biscuit and a handful of peanuts. As I reach for the key to unlock the window he cannot contain his excitement, and rushes forward to claim his breakfast. He acts like this most mornings and runs too far so that he is sitting right behind where the window will swing open. I wait, so he does too. I wave the window past him to a nearby window, but still he sits there, little paws clasping each other at chest level. I try twice more and it makes no difference. With a sigh I gently move the window a fraction. For a brief second, he turns his head towards me before scrabbling madly and falling to the grass-covered path below. I toss the biscuit down to him. How much more satisfying, I think to myself, are the mornings when I can place the biscuit into his tiny paws and watch him sit there eating, and then afterwards lick clean every part of his paws, and follow it up by washing his face. This way it is so undignified – the biscuit has fallen on a paving stone and shattered into a dozen pieces. I throw another one, taking care this time to drop it on to the grass. He has not noticed because he is still running around cleaning up all the pieces of the first biscuit. Picking up a piece, he is off and running across the lawn, round the old apple tree.

The magpie is watching. He has not moved from his perch yet, only turned his head to follow the squirrel’s progress. As the squirrel reaches the bottom lawn, the magpie flies down and starts hopping after him keeping his distance. The squirrel is now under the magnolia. He has cleared the leaf litter to expose a patch of bare earth. He puts the biscuit piece down and carefully covers it with the leaf litter, putting it in place with his paws, adjusts it again and pats it, then with a satisfied bound has turned and is running back. He picks up another piece and runs to the middle of the lawn, where he holds the biscuit in his mouth while he digs a hole. As he buries it, I glance across at the magpie who is busy recovering the first hidden piece of biscuit from under the magnolia. This will continue until the squirrel has hidden all the pieces and the magpie has retrieved and devoured each one.

Another squirrel comes and picks up the whole biscuit and takes it back to the lawn where he starts feasting. Unfortunately for him, the first squirrel has seen and a merry chase follows.

The four pigeons have come for breakfast. I never wanted pigeons – only the small garden birds, but four years ago, I found one with a broken wing hiding in the bushes and fed him. He was unable to fly again for many months, then he learned to climb bushes and glide down from them, and after a while short hops and small flights, and now, even though his wings sticks out at right angles to his body and brushes the ground, he can fly as well as any other pigeon. During the months when he was grounded I was so worried the fox would get him that I put out double and triple portions of food so that the fox would not go hungry and look for more. To my joy the broken wing pigeon survived.

About a year after Broken Wing, another pigeon joined us. I was not pleased about this, but he looked in such a bad way – he had lost all his tail and such trouble walking – that I felt moved to allow him to stay. So these two enjoyed a free banquet every morning. In time it became clear that Broken Wing and No Tail did not like each other, although usually tolerant, sometimes one would chase the other away. Anyway, now Broken Wing is stronger and No Tail has started growing a tuft where her tail should be, they have both found mates, and the four of them feed happily together each morning, and spend many hours either in the magnolia or the birch tree. So I feel beholden to the first two pigeons, and accept their mates gracefully. After all, are not pigeons the gentle giants of the bird world?

Feeding the Birds on a Freezing Morning

It is a cold day today. The temperature not much above freezing, with ice patches on the lawn and hesitant snowflakes swept down on the chill wind.

I saw blue tits and great tits waiting when I came into the kitchen. I quickly opened the window and tossed out some peanuts and mixed seeds. I soaked two slices of bread in lukewarm water and breaking it into pieces, sent that out as well. Taking a handful of peanuts I ranged them along the outside window sill, where before I had even finished a cheeky blue tit had already taken one. Blackbirds and robins were alternately feeding and squabbling over the food, not with each, but with other birds of their own kind.

I was pleased to see a thrush snatching and gobbling food on the outskirts. Blackbirds really enjoy the fruit peelings put out each day, and I sometimes wonder if I boiled up the root vegetable peelings to soften them, whether the blackbirds would enjoy those too. Of course, suet is another welcome food, unfortunately I have run out of it.

I am glad the malus tree, which had such a heavy crop in the autumn, maybe the best yet, although fed on every day, still has hundreds of crabapples left. It is such a vital supply to so many. Blackbirds love it and I am surprise not to see the thrushes in it more often. This morning we had three jays feasting there. Pigeons also spend a great deal of time enjoying its fruits as do squirrels. The most surprising visitor to the malus tree was a pair of sparrowhawks. This was witnessed by my neighbor and her friend who were delighted.

Sparrowhawks fill me with mixed emotions. I have watched them catch, pluck, and slowly kill blackbirds, collared doves, and even one after the other tiny blue tits. I have to be philosophical about these happenings though, as I have positively delighted in watching the tawny owl catch voles – and do not voles have as much right to life as blue tits? Does the sparrowhawk not need to eat as the tawny owl does?

Every creature is so hungry today and many times I have put food out for them. It is a good thing that I am prepared with plentiful stocks on hand. It causes much amusement, when each year I ask family members for bird food as my Christmas or birthday gift. I hear people whispering about me being eccentric, which I probably am, but many years ago I read our wants are endless, but our needs are few. It struck me how true this was.