|Pigeons in conversation.|
Some days it's mostly pigeons; mum, dad and the two awkward kids perched on tree tops and chimney pots. "Boaby" the friendly blackbird (formerly known as Blackie) and the more discrete and private Mrs Boaby. An uncountable number of noisy and excitable hedge bound sparrows who flick moss down from the roof in a disrespectful fashion. Some wrens that are so tiny they seem out of place and out of scale as if they've escaped from another dimension where sizes and volumes are quite different.
We don't feed the birds however, we allow them to do their own catering and gathering. This way we avoid attracting rats, something of a problem here, in the past anyway, for us and the birds. They now appear to have retreated or else they are in some kind of ratty lockdown for whatever reason. We're happy with this and so are the birds. Don't tell the crows or magpies; mega party poopers that they are.
|Boaby, taking time to take the world in.|