Bird brain

I mentioned birdstrike into our clear glass windows the other day, in the context of a somewhat dazed goldfinch which Penny found wandering about on the lawn. Soon afterwards, sadly, we had a fatal example in the shape of this little fledgling. I think, doubly sadly, that it may be a thrush.

We try to stop them with bird silhouettes and other wheezes, but every summer sees at least half-a-dozen make the lethal error. Luckily, many more than that survive like the finch or escape after coming indoors through open windows or doors. And we've never had anything as dramatic as the sparrowhawk in Leeds which flew full-tilt into a window - link here - probably in pursuit of one of the small birds which they terrorise, and left an oily 'ghost' outline on the pane.

We also had a marevvlous experience when our older son shouted from his bedroom: "Mum! Dad! Come and see this weird bird!" We duly went and all of us had a marvellous time watching a male goldcrest furiously twittering and displaying his crest on a branch immediately outside one of the windows on which he could see his reflection.

Now we've just had another survivor in the form of a Tom Tit, which flew indoors and, as they tend to, panicked. It did at least have an ample supply of grapes to nibble to compensate for its obvious panic when P and I steered it towards the greenhouse door.  Once this process started, it kept its mouth open all the time, as in my pictures. It didn't eat or tweet, so I wonder if this is a sign of extreme bird-fear.

On which score, we had a friend staying over the weekend who has a bird phobia. Thank you, Tom Tit, for waiting to come inside until she had taken her leave.  Another day, I must tell you about the time we came back from a fortnight's holiday and found a rook in the house. It had come down the chimney and somehow survived - the loo for drink maybe, yuk - for quite a time, judging by the number of splats. But that's enough birds for now.