I did good

As we begin the descent into winter many of our feathered friends, who pop in of a morning for a quick snack and douche in the bird bath, are leaving, for warmer climes.
It was always a scene to enjoy, each type or family of bird species performing  a roll in (forgive me) the pecking order !! 


The most common and amongst the smallest,  is the House Sparrow. A cheeky little guy, always the first in the pool (see bird bath) there were sometimes six or seven of them frolicking in the water fluffing out the feathers,and shaking the water off before diving under again. They are like small children seemingly oblivious of whose watching. The Song Thrush and the Blackbird, 


hopping around on the grass or hanging onto the seed feed basket, hanging in the tree, their beauty is in their song,particularly the Blackbird, with those strong penetrating notes, in perfect pitch, vibrating through the early morning air to remind us all of the wonder of nature.

More devious callers are the Starlings and the bully boy of them all, the Magpie. They would strut about, warning the others off and generally make a nuisance of themselves. Alert and confident, the cat is all they had to worry about. 

Now we are left with the cheeky, loveable Robin. No fear, he hops right up to one, as if to say, we are in this together mate you look after me and I will bring a smile of recognition to your face every morning. 







The pond and a few sluggish goldfish, (the water is getting colder) are all we have. The water lilly is dying off slowly waiting until next Springs rebirth and the frogs, where do the frogs go in Winter,(answers on a post card please).
The yearly cycle of the frog is a marvel in its self. Springs warmth brings them back, from, I know not where but as of clockwork they are there in the pond.
The sexual life of these creatures is rigorous to say the least, no holds barred they seek a mate. Sometimes the poor old female has a bevy of male frogs attached to her, each hanging on for dear life, sometimes to the exclusion of the females life as she seems to have the life smothered out of her in the primeval need to procreate.
You might think I am mad (Marie said I was) but in my concern for one foggy maiden who was enveloped in the grasp of five, overzealous male frogs she was turning translucent as they squeezed the life out of her.
I picked up the slimy ball of interlocked arms and legs and began to unfasten the grip of each until she was free. I'm not sure if it counts for much in the "Women against rape movement" but in froggy terms,  I did good !!!              

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