To start with I couldn't get out. What to do about it? Nothing. Make the most of it. I loved the peace and quiet. I was even glad of the chance to catch up on all those things I should have done long ago but had not because I was too busy rushing about. I wrote, I filed, I sorted. My telephone and internet access meant I was able to contact whomever I chose. Realising that I may not get out in time to buy presents I ordered them on the internet and managed to write all my Christmas cards. Wrapping up warm I could still walk Freddie.
Nevertheless, I managed to waste the precious time available to put my house in order. And I lay the blame fairly and squarely on the birds. Right outside my kitchen (where I sit up close to my beloved aged AGA) I have set up the bird feeders so that from any window I can watch them. The lesser spotted woodpeckers came regularly and, although they can polish off a whole bag of nuts in a day, they are still a welcome visitor.
At one time there were two on separate feeders and a green woodpecker (who usually is usually seen eating beetles and worms from the lawn) creeping up the nearby oak tree. More insects populate an oak than any other tree and in this weather they are a rich source of food. The blackbirds polished off all the pyracantha berries and the Tits pecked the mahonia flowers to shreds.
On the feeders there are mostly Great Tits, Robins and a whole busy little band of Blue Tits. Dunnocks - also known as Tree Sparrows - are also regulars, picking up whatever falls fro the feeders. But only one Sparrow to date. And where is the Nuthatch? The snow finally forced more than the usual visitors to take advantage of what was on offer: thrushes, jays, collared doves. But the undoubted star was a Coal Tit. At first I was not sure. But soon I was able to distinguish it quite quickly by its distinctive white Mohican haircut.
This tiny bird with his highwayman's mask is as nervous as the woodpecker. I was so excited. Pathetic, but it’s the simplest things. I wasted hours, like a groupie at the stage door, waiting to catch a glimpse of it. Set up my camera and hovered. I can only take photos through the glass and cannot work out the setting to use. It's not a professional camera but still, I manage to get some surprising shots.
Then, one day at dusk (is that a non-sequitur?) I noticed an odd shaped thing on the feeder. Peering out into the gloom I saw it was a mouse, big ears listening, small feet gripping, munching greedily. He had found a ready supply of rich fatty nuts to boost his diet. The camera was there, waiting on its tripod, and I took a shot or two. They are not very good but a record nevertheless. What terrific entertainment these visitors have been, the highlight of a snow bound week.
But of course this whole 'stay indoors warm and safe – don't go out unless strictly necessary, why put yourself and others at risk', sort of thing palled. We had finally eaten all those tins dated 1999 from the back of the cupboard, and the boxes of home-made mystery main courses from the freezer. I couldn't get to an appointment in London, failed to make a party in our market town and missed my Pilates classes. Driving was hazardous.
Finally, our rural roads became more manageable. At last, 'Life' would be back to normal. A trip to the supermarket was an event – sad, I know – and we even managed to get to a department store to buy a present or two. Then, on the way home, it started to snow. Again. Snow on snow. At this rate neither the Prodigal nor the Princess will be able to get to us, we won't be able to get to them, and Christmas will be just Best Beloved, me and Freddie. And the birds of course!
Lucy
No comments:
Post a Comment