Friday 30 December 2016

Fatball and Robin

Prompted by two days of heavy frost, I popped out to the store and bought a packet of five suet fat-balls.  The bird feeder, currently acting as a temporary washing line post, was reinstated, the holder hung in place and I waited.  

Its proximity to the greenhouse seemed to be a deterrent so my kind husband moved the pole closer to the hedge.  Still the only visitor at first was the robin, and later the long-tailed tits came down from the birch trees, to feed and fly away.

I looked out of the front window and there was one of our blackbirds turning over the leaves on the bed next to the privet.  Two years ago this narrow area was paved, but my husband's patching of our front drive and stouthearted removal of broken pavers to the back compost bin area has resulted in a bed that holds pelargoniums in the summer and daffodils in the spring.  It has been enriched with lots of home-made compost and buried kitchen waste.  This helps us and the wildlife.  Water soaks into the soil on days of heavy inundation and an assortment of worms and invertebrates feed on the mix, and in turn feed our songbird.  

What is more satisfying I ask myself, to purchase a tub of fat-balls and watch the birds come to the feeder or to make a small change to the environment, close to the hedge, where the blackbirds, woodland creatures would find themselves at home?  No plastic tubs or nets, no factory, no expenditure save what we have produced and consumed ourselves.  The virtuous circle is simple and the untidiness that vigorous pecking has produced is quickly resolved with a garden broom.


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