Unusual bird

It was the song that alerted me first. It was one I'd never heard before, a loud, piping call not unlike that of a green woodpecker, but more melodious. Then I saw it, up in a tree and grabbed the binoculars, and that's when I reeled in amazement. The bird I saw was about the size of a collared dove, but was like a mini macaw, every colour under the sun. I saw gold, green, red, blue... was it an escaped lovebird? Anyone know what sounds lovebirds make? I am now keeping my ears pricked and my camera ready on the table.

PS Have done my homework on Google and I think it might have been a Conure. Anyone lost one in the Uxbridge area?

Sparrows at dawn

When I awoke this morning, the first thing I heard was the cheerful cheeping of a sparrow. It took me right back to my childhood when the dawn chorus was a wondrous thing, a veritable symphony, beginning with a blackbird, which harmonised with thrushes, sparrows, robins, starlings, chaffinches in a surge of sound which, in springtime, seemed to originate in the depths of the countryside and radiate out all the way to the city.

Here is a better photo of the fox with the mangy tail, taken this morning.

New fox

The limping fox with the ratty tail (see top photo which for some reason won't blow up large) is limping slightly less and is scrounging even more. In fact, as we sit at the kitchen table at night, it walks right up to the patio doors and puts its nose against the glass and peers in at us, making me feel most guilty for eating. Sometimes it does it at breakfast time. I was eating toast and peanut butter and it stared so hard and hungrily at me that I chucked the rest of the toast out on the lawn and it grabbed it and ran into the bushes. I then gave it what was left of my Neil's Yard yoghurt coated nuts and raisins and it snuffled every one up out of the grass.

But this morning, once the mangy fox had gone, this fine specimen appeared and my partner was lucky enough to get a few photos. Perhaps it's the mate of the other, because foxes don't usually share territories and I haven't heard any sounds of fighting. Or anything else. No signs of pregnancy. I didn't see any cubs last year. I do hope there will be some this year. I still miss cute little Olive.

Heron at sunset

Just as it was getting dark, I spotted a heron flying past the window. It came to rest on the roof of a house opposite, so I rushed downstairs for the camera, praying the bird would still be there when I got back. It was, and I fired off a few shots, all pretty blurry as it was so far away. Here is one of them. It really looks king of of the castle!

Limping fox

For the last few days, we've seen a lame fox in the garden. He/she also has mange quite badly on the tail and hindquarters. I still have some of the homeopathic mange treatment left, though it's a bit old now. Still worth giving it a go, though, even if it means having to make Mr/Ms Reynard a nightly sandwich. Peanut butter, probably. We've got two jars of that.

Woodpeckers

When I lived in Highgate, North London, February was a terrible time and all because of the Great Spotted Woodpecker. From around five in the morning, it would start drumming in a tree not far from my bedroom window and my, what a row! It woke me every day and the rapid drilling noise would assault my ears and set me issuing all kinds of curses.

I can hear one now in Hillingdon, drumming away in the distance, announcing its presence in the hope of attracting a mate, and establishing a territory. Fortunately it has chosen the trees in the field at the bottom of our long garden and not, thank goodness, the one directly outside my bedroom window!

Squirrel pests!

Much as I love wildlife, I wish there weren't so many squirrels. As fast as I fill the peanut feeder, the flippin' furry tree rats are performing acrobatics on it and within a couple of hours, it's empty again and the poor birds haven't got a look in. And what's more, they've been burying their loot in the lawn. Wonder if we'll end up with a peanut plantation?