thekitchensinkbirdwatcher

Whilst the good weather meant that I had to refill the small water tray after the song thrush had been for a bath, elsewhere there were great comings and goings all along the wall of the rosebed today. The wren worked conscientiously through the stones, busily disappearing into the little tunnels and dark cracks. It gradually moved up the wall until it reached the drift of snow-in-summer hanging down from the rosebed, where there was a positive shower of sparrows dropping from amongst the thick grey foliage. There is something they clearly love amongst the leaves, but the plant has grown taller, which is deeper for the birds and sometimes you can only assess their presence by where the leaves are shaking violently. The birds plunge around in the cushion of grey, reach the edge of the wall, where the leaves are no longer supported, they slither down the overhanging stalks and fall to the grass a few inches below.