Birds are nesting in the barn, a family of robins and great tits are already in residence and the swallows are casing the joint. I am happy about this, Darcey the cat is ecstatic about this, she might be sixteen years of age, but there is life in the old girl yet.
This week she has killed a swallow, I found it on the porch floor, on close inspection its feathers were a beautiful iridescent blue I was going to photograph them for you; but it had rained by the time I could get to the taskand it all looked very soggy and sad by then.
Then last night it was the was the robins that fell foul of the cat, equally sad
This morning I went into the barn and heard cheeping and so had Darcey, so I scooped Darcey up and took her inside, as far as she is concerned the opportunity of a day dossing on Tom’s bed, the other side of a stair-gate from Spud is a fair pay off for leaving the chicks be . I retuned to the cheeping, eventually I found it was coming from a black plastic dustbin, under some rubbish, there in the very bottom I found another robin chick
Once rescued it was reluctant to leave my finger, I had what I thought was a brain wave, I’ll put it in Spuds travel crate, with a nice shady shoe box to hide in for an hour or so then its parents can pop in and feed it safe from predatory cats to let it recover from it’s ordeal… This worked for just as long as it took the chick to realise it could hop out of the crate. So in the end we left it for nature to take it’s course. Fingers crossed that it managed to somewhere safe.