The parent blue tits have been in overdrive this week, going in and out of the nest box in our Scots pine every couple of minutes. The chicks must be close to fledging. We’ve had a nest box in that tree since early 2002, and have had blue tits successfully nest there every spring since.
I spotted another nest site this afternoon. We’re looking after Jen’s sister’s border collie, Mia, for a week, so I took her for a walk down Burlees Lane and up through the wood. At one point, a house sparrow flew low across the track in front of us and disappeared into a crack in a drystone wall. I could hear the excited cheeps of chicks inside.
Driving along Heights Road later in the afternoon, I saw a blue tit disappear into a very similar crack in a very similar wall. Who needs nest boxes when there are so many drystone walls to choose from?
“…wonderful. Science and history and geography and evolution and culture all tangled up in musings while walking about the moors around Hebden Bridge.”—PZ Myers
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