If I could be bothered to be bothered I would say I am LIVID that ex-Labour Prime Minister Tony Blair WC (war criminal/ water closet, you choose) has been given a knighthood. I signed the petition to protest against this happening and I don’t often sign petitions unless they are for the protection or defence of wildlife and animal rights. I could also say that I am sighing with weariness that Nicola Sturgeon is AGAIN bleating on about a campaign for independence for Scotland when, quite frankly, I think England should start its own campaign for independence. It works both ways, you know, and I think Emperor Hadrian was on to something when he built his wall to keep out the Picts. Just saying. I also cite the hideous screech of bagpipes and the vileness of haggis as reasons we should break free from Scotland. Goodness knows what other awful habits they have that haven’t yet revealed themselves.
However, because I am an increasingly spiritual practitioner of this thing we call Life I cannot be arsed to waste my time and energies on getting het up about the political machinations and power trips of people who get on my pip. Instead, I prefer to focus on the things in Life that REALLY matter. Like this…
…Damson Cottage Baby Swallows Class of 2022! Yay! Three of the little alien weirdos had their heads above parapet this afternoon, all fluff and peep peep peeps. There were five eggs so maybe there are two more hiding below decks as it were. Anyway, it was a thrill to see them when I returned from work and noticed a lot of in/out flying activity by Mum and Dad Swallow.
I am also thrilled to announce that Alan Pheasant and his good lady wife have three baby pheasants who they’ve been bringing to the bird feeding station. A big old crow was hanging around them the day before yesterday, clearly ready to chance its wing for a tasty baby phes dinner. Alan was having none of it, though, and guarded his family closely with loud squawks and razor toed feet akimbo. Crow soon gave up, allowing me a sigh of relief.
Beau Pheasant has been trying to inveigle his way into the happy pheasant family but Alan has been seeing him off, too. I wonder if Beau is a 2021 chick. We did see a single chick this time last year but only a couple of times, and I assumed it didn’t survive. But perhaps it DID, and it is Beau. Anyway, poor Beau has spent most of the afternoon keeping solitary company in the field, his exile made more poignant by the field being newly mown and looking somewhat bleak…
Can you see him, in the middle of the photo, looking forlornly existential? Poor Beau.
More birdie thrills come in the form of at least three baby woodpeckers, somewhere between 11 and 15 baby blue tits (difficult to count because they bob around so fast between the various bird feeders) and various baby goldfinches, greenfinches, sparrows and robins. The blackbird babies have also fledged but tend to hang around at the top of the garden.
These are the things that REALLY matter, you see. The lives that make up the natural world, our ecology, landscapes, soil structure. This wonderful, magical, mind-boggling, breath-taking world. Earth can and will survive without human beings. The important beings are just getting on with the business of living - without ego, politics or selfish agenda. The likes of Blair and Sturgeon are NOTHING compared with those baby swallows who, within a few short weeks, will be flying off on a journey of thousands of miles back to their Winter home in Africa. Now THAT is real courage, determination and adventure.
I’m not even bothered that at work today I was asked to make some ice lollies using marmalade juice. Just don’t ask. Seriously, don’t.
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