So last year we had two baby black birds and this year another two. They seem to love the rarified atmostphere of Motcomb St: a cat, dog and fox-free zone in one of the chicest areas in London.
This one popped out of the undergrowth when I was watering the garden yesterday and has been sitting all day on the table, with mum coming to offer tit-bits – the tail feathers seem to be undeveloped, although it can fly short distances, like into the next door garden, where I think the family nest must be hidden.
Other regular visitors this year Mr & Mrs Greenfinch, who are always starving, and unashamed to be watched troughing the black sunflower seeds from the feeder, the Robin family, who I think have also had a baby, and the blue tits and coal tits. We don’t like to talk about the wood pigeons, who are waiting to made into a pie.