‘Quick grab the camera, there’s a bird in the barn, it’s quite big.’
So said Mr Uhdd; a kestrel had found its way into the barn, but couldn’t find its way out again.
It was looking a little battered and bewildered
In its frantic efforts to escape it had been launching itself against the window, its feet were swathed in cobwebs and its feathers ruffled. I don’t know, but I wonder if it is a yearling. We thought it might be injured, but thankfully it seemed to be more a case of it being battered, bruised and exhausted from its efforts.
we opened a door and it flew outside, into an oak tree, it’s feathers in disarray.
(Mr Uhdd and I planted this tree, I thought oaks were slow growing, or maybe we have been here longer than I realise!)
The poor bird harangued by the song birds before it flew lamely off
across the fields. It’s a treat to get close up to such a bird, but like the tawny owl, you wonder if it is because they are not in the peak of condition that they end up being so close up and personal to humans.