Birdwatch
I was wandering up the hill the other day, my mind full of the next chapter so I didn’t notice the aching legs, and I had a bit of a birdwatch moment. At this time of year, I’m forever disturbing flocks of partridge (or whatever they are, I’m not good at identification). They lie in wait for me along the hillside path, and just when I think I am alone, clatter up from the bushes squawking and complaining en masse. The other morning, there were a couple on the path ahead of me, waddling along minding their own beaks when they noticed me. They set off at a faster waddle until they remembered they could fly, and took off with much faffing about. It made for a humorous sight and reminded me of the Aristocats. ‘Abigail Gable and my sister, Amelia Gabble.’ ‘We’re geese, you know.’ (Thomas: ‘You don’t say!’) ‘Yes, on a walking tour of France.’ ‘Swimming most of the way.’ ‘On water, of course.’ (Much laughter.) I didn’t look that up, it’s just what I recall, but then I can probably quote most of that film in my sleep. Anyway, the birds… They were too quick to get a photo, so you’ll have to make do with this.
Also, during that birdwatch day, I heard the little owls in the trees, and it was just after sunrise. Maybe it was the same pair who were at our house earlier that morning having a contretemps on the telegraph pole. But then I saw something else, and I’ve never seen one like it before. It was about the size of a thrush, possibly slightly smaller, and ten feet ahead of me. It was grey, but I couldn’t see its belly, but it had a medium length tail that was black either side with a white strip down the middle. Maybe it was three feathers. Now I know what you’re thinking, it was a pied wagtail, but it wasn’t any kind of wagtail, it was too stout and chubby, let along too big, and its tail wasn’t that long. I tried looking it up, and the closest I could come was a gnatcatcher, but it was bigger (similar shape) and they, for a reason best known to themselves, live in North America – and South, to be fair. It was also too big to be a grey tit, and I didn’t notice a black cap on its head, so I don’t think it was a blackcap. It might have been a Sardinian warbler, according to a photo I found, but again, It wasn’t quite like the one in the picture, and it was too quick for a photo, so you’ve got this:
Whatever. It was a birdwatch moment, and seeing the waddling partridges, hearing the squabbling owls and wondering what the other bird was, I paused for a while to look at the view down to Pedi. Mainly, I looked at the trees and the outcrops of rocks because the sun was playing tricks in the distance between them, giving the kind of perspective effect you see when watching a 3D film; almost real but not quite, which was odd as it was real and, obviously, three dimensional. I tried for a photo (below), but the phone camera doesn’t give you the right depth of field.
Well, that’s my morning chat. Now I’m off to chapter ten of a new mystery. Ironically, in this one, the culprit of a poisoning could well be a poisonous bird, but not the grey one I saw, as my deadly bird is now extinct.
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