As well as the blackbirds and blue tits in our workshop, we now have great tits in our mailbox. Well, not our mailbox, to be exact, but the one belonging to our neighbours Dawn and Marc, directly opposite our side gate. I discover this when our postwoman, Val, knocks on the door. Val has covered this delivery route for over forty years, and it takes a lot to surprise her, but even she is, for once, lost for words. I gingerly lift the lid of the plywood box. Even before I have opened it, I can hear the hissing sound of the adult bird inside, incubating a clutch of eggs. Sure enough, as daylight illuminates the interior, I can see a beady black eye looking up at me. ‘Great tits,’ I pronounce, to Val’s evident delight. The birds are incubating half a dozen tiny eggs, little pale ovals spotted with reddish-brown, each barely the size of my fingernail. Val carefully writes out a warning to anyone else who might have the temerity to deliver mail here, tapes it neatly to the side of the box, and continues with her round.
What do You think about Wild Hares And Hummingbirds?
