Coming to the Table

Five minutes after putting out some fresh bird seed, the table is once again popular. The thin-looking robin that comes every morning, has to give way to a succession of sparrows, then blackbirds and finally the jackdaws arrive and pick out the biggest bits.

All is quiet and then the robin returns. He perches on the edge, looking around, before dipping down and picking up a piece of seed and eating it in situ. The sparrows sit in the nearby bush chattering anxiously but waiting patiently for the robin to finish.

A gust of wind, or a shadow, the threat of a predator, Β and there is a general flight to the next garden or more dangerously across the road to the wooden patch in front of the railway bridge, risking the traffic to seek sanctuary and safety in the trees.

Five minutes pass and the bird feeders swing gently in the breeze. The birds have yet to return.

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