The Great British Bird Watch

Yes, this is the weekend when we all dash outside into the garden and sprinkle birdseed around the bird feeders which have remained empty and neglected (apart from a few broken biscuits and breadcrumbs, peppered with dry mealworms) since before Christmas. Then we make the essential cup of tea and sit down to watch and count the birds.
Having checked the RSPB email instructions and settled down for the statutory hour, I realised that Sherpa had moved from one chair to another and was presenting a delightfully alert pussycat profile to any birds braving the feeder just four feet from the window – and five from Sherpa’s nose.
That, together with the angle of the sun, which was throwing any birds landing in the trees and hedge into monochrome silhouette, made any identification of species impossible.
Never mind – I enjoyed the cup of tea – and when I walked through to the kitchen I realised that several small birds had been feasting on the bird table on that side of the house.
Hey ho – tomorrow is another day! (Actually, it is The other day – only one more chance. Come birds and gladden my eyes, making all the effort of finding the box of bird food worth while!)

Ans Sherpa… go and sleep on a bed!

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About apthomas

I love books, reading, writing, baking, chocolate, painting, sewing, people and fairtrade - not necessarily in that order. I am a lazy gardener - who loves the garden, and a lazy housewife who likes the place to be warm and welcoming. I live in beautiful Somerset. I am enslaved by Sherpa-the-cat. Saturday mornings find me 'playing shop' in the Honey Pot - a second hand bookshop, run from my garage, where along with the books you'll find fun, friendship and refreshments - all in a good cause.
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2 Responses to The Great British Bird Watch

  1. Susan in TX says:

    A lovely way to spend an hour! Hope you had better luck with your second viewing. 🙂

  2. apthomas says:

    Ah, the birds all flew away from the back garden and busied themselves in the front and in the field behind the house. I gave up as it would have meant shivering in an unheated kitchen. Sorry birds – next year maybe?

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