Sing a Song of Sixpence

Is there any better accompaniment to some early morning pyjama-gardening than the two resonant notes of the cuckoo. Try as I might, my efforts to spot his stripy waistcoat through the trees were quite in vain.

I was witness, however, to a trio of smartly dressed blackbirds in a spat over territory. 
Lapels bristling and coat tails flapping they were hopping and swooping in a furious squall of ruffled finery.

Finally this chap decided he might be better off joining the Spring Exhibition at the Mayne Gallery in Kingsbridge. Catch him there from the 25th May onwards.

Binky is a small brown hen

Three weeks ago Binky went missing. 

She was absent from the evening register and nowhere to be seen at breakfast.

There were two salient possibilities -

a) she had come up against a hungry fox

b) she was concealing a teenage pregnancy

Fortunately it turned out to be the latter. I found her sitting on a clutch of eighteen eggs.

Now at this time of year she could have chosen to nestle down in any number of picturesque locations, framed by any flavour of blossom....

 there's cherry or

 malus or

 ornamental pear or

 acer or

apple...

But no! I am forced to divulge an unsightly corner of the garden, where beyond the emerging cow-parsley and the smiling primroses there is a corroding oil tank swathed in an unsightly tarpaulin. It rests on two ivy clad brick piers between which Binky found her covert sanctuary.

So far we have one little black chick “Diesel” 

....and you wouldn’t believe how many times a day I’m checking to see if any more have hatched!!