Birdwatching

 

I spent a few hours swotting up. I bought a pocket guide. A friend loaned me a beautiful coffee table book. I wanted to be able to identify the beautiful birds in our garden, and count them for the RSPB Great British Bird Watch.

I leapt out of bed at what I thought was 6.15 this morning, to get the hour done before cats and kids got on the move. My eyes had played tricks on me, though: the clock didn’t say 6.15 but 8.15, so within minutes of my count starting, I had a cat wanting out. Kids in the kitchen followed shortly thereafter.

Still, nothing deterred the birds from their frenzied feeding at the nuts and seeds. I was delighted to count three gorgeous woodpeckers: we see one quite frequently but I saw three at the same time. The blue tits, great tits, coal tits, chaffinches and sparrows all backed off whenever a woodpecker latched onto the feeder. When it flew off, four or five of the tiny songbirds took its place instantly.

I soon had Flick to help me keep the tally. We added a pigeon and several blackbirds. I think I saw three pied wagtails.

The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof. Focusing on the beauty of a world unaware of climate change, unaware of covid-19, draws my gaze upwards and off the rutted paths we all tread just now. I never thought I might enjoy watching the birds as much as I am.