Our garden is suddenly full of fledglings. Pied wagtails, great tits, blue tits, goldfinches.
I assume the blue tit fledglings came from our nest box. I spotted them this morning, hanging inexpertly beneath rhododendron branches, searching for insects.
I watched a great tit fledgling taking a energetic, solitary full-immersion soak in our bird bath. I’m guessing it was its first. It seemed to enjoy its bath. Who wouldn’t, after weeks crammed in a mite-infested, shit-stained nest with eight or so siblings?
Driving rain all afternoon, resulting in a spectacular cloud-sea in the valley below the house in the evening. My photos didn’t do it justice, but I captured a nice shot of the sunset behind Old Town Mill.
“…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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