Birdie Bogroll

Here, we have the avian equivalent of coming out of the loo with a bit of bogroll stuck to one's heel.  How embarrassing!

Here, we have the avian equivalent of coming out of the loo with a bit of bogroll stuck to one’s heel. How embarrassing!

Today was a bit of a flop, on the getting-things-done front — sorry, Mother. No outdoor snaps, today. I meant to go outside, but then Keeping Up Appearances came on, and Daisy was complaining about how much she hates tidying up. That put me in mind of how badly I needed to tidy up, so I got sucked into an all-consuming cleaning spiral, and nothing else got done. Well, work still got done, but nothing besides that.

My favourite crow stopped by, a couple of times, bringing His Supreme Loudness (the little one) along. The first time they showed up was right around the crack of dawn, and someone nearby wasn’t happy: halfway through the feeding, a great cry of “Shut uuuuuuuuup!” came wailing from below — to no avail, of course. The squawking continued. I swear, that wee bird doesn’t even stop to swallow. It takes a bite and gulps it down, and somehow maintains a strangled cawing, throughout the entire operation. And between bites, of course, it’s full-throated squawking, all the way. I tried to quiet it down with conversation (mostly along the lines of “Good morning, Your Loudness! Enjoying your breakfast?”), but it seemed thoroughly uninterested in anything I had to say. It fell silent for maybe a second, glanced at me, and just as quickly dismissed me. Ah, well. I was up, anyway.

In other news, I witnessed a bitter cormorant battle, this afternoon. I was on my balcony, unfortunately, and the cormorants were in the water — too far away for photography. But there were three of them involved, going at one another like cats and dogs, churning up the water all around. Somebody on a boat broke them up with an oar. I thought they might return to their dispute, once the boatman moved on, but by that time, they seemed to have got over their differences. Probably for the best.

Good Day on the Feeder

It’s been quite a good day, feeder-wise. Heavy rains brought in droves of tiny refugees, mostly sparrows and finches, but I had several starling visits, into the bargain. I think it’s always the same starling. That’s how it usually goes, when I get a new species on my feeder. One individual finds it, and manages to keep the secret a while, but sooner or later, others catch on.

The struggling crow also dropped by several times — just by himself, today. He seemed very tired. He settled right into the feeder, and helped himself to a long lunch, a long preen, and a little nap. I was a bit worried, seeing him sleeping on my balcony like that, all bunched up in the feeder with seeds and suet clinging to his beak. Healthy birds don’t tend to nap here. I mean, I get the occasional lazy sparrow, on a hot afternoon…but I’m not sure whether those are asleep, or just sunbathing with their eyes shut. Probably the sunbathing thing. They open their beaks and spread their wings a bit, too. They seem to enjoy the warmth. But the crow, he was dozing, no two ways about it. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to wake him. He’s shown me one little crow, but who knows how many he’s got in the nest? He’s probably on the wing all day, picking up food and bringing it home. Indeed, after his nap, he filled his beak one last time, and flapped off with it. All right for some, hanging back in the nest and having their meals delivered!

In spite of his napping, I was pleased to see him out and about, living his crowy life. I spotted him on my afternoon walk, as well, pecking over the garden, with the starlings. I hope he found a nice, fat worm.

It's been more than a week, now, since I first spied this broken crow.  Although he seems to be getting by all right, I'm not sure he'll ever be the same.

It’s been more than a week, now, since I first spied this broken crow. Although he seems to be getting by all right, I’m not sure he’ll ever be the same.

Proof of Having Been Outdoors (and Having Been Rained Upon — Thanks, Mother!)

It's a puddle.  Quite a common sight, around here.

It’s a puddle. Quite a common sight, around here.