The sky’s a dangerous place right now, as young birds make their maiden flights. Frantic fluttering to a nearby branch, then the nervy, exhausted chick pauses to catch breath and attempt an altitude gain. Not all have a happy ending.
Yesterday a young crow hopped ungainly with its left wing trailing behind, so much bounce in the rest of the bird, but the wing, limp and useless. Did it survive the night?
There was a commotion in the trees as a buzzard attacked a young blackbird. The parents put on a ferocious display and the aggressor flew up, circling a while and screaming, before moving on. I walked closer and on the ground was a young chick, staring up with its oversized beak. Would the parents get it back to the nest?
A blue tit bundle of fluff dive bombed out of a tree onto our stone wall, then reversed into the unpointed stonework, calling for help. It seemed very indignant but I think it found a safe refuge until its rescue party could arrive.
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