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A bird in the bush inspires two drawn by hand.

Spring is ...

What?

Sprung. Springing. Filling our days with longer light. Rubbing in the fact that the neglected garden can be neglected no more. Accelerating toward frost-free days when we can plant and restore our privacy where the old hedge was removed in the autumn. Revealing sadly what has drowned, frozen, or given-up the fight to live over the winter. And filling the garden with song.

Fling open the music room doors and sing A Little Fall Of Rain to the daffodils; maybe the willow catkins would like some Bernstein; or the primulae something from Moulin Rouge? But it's not just Littlest and siblings who are in lively voice, step outside and listen to the birds. They are falling over themselves to attract mates; show off about it when they have and establish their territory. The nest building that follows is a comparatively quiet affair.

This pair of long-tailed tits, called Lottie and Louis by Littlest (we vetoed Boob1 and Boob2!!) are nesting outside the kitchen window





I feel a Spring birdwatching project in the air ... sitting in the kitchen window and spying is a start




Tits of the long-tailed variety are sometimes called bottle-tits - not because of a partiality to tipples, night caps or milk bottle tops - but due to the oval shape of their nests which have such a small entrance that the adults have to fold their tail feathers over their heads just to squeeze inside. And all built out of cobweb and animal fur and moss. Littlest drew a bird-themed doodle -




The dogs are also enjoying the longer days. And earlier mornings (groan) when they most definitely become mine. Shorter night's sleep necessitates more time asleep during the day ... only for those without a family to run and no care but "Is mum sufficiently awake to remember to feed us?" Here they are, horizontal, hugging (or is that too anthropomorphic?) and not nesting, but nest-l-ing




And finally, Littlest, who didn't totally understand the mating, nesting, nestling scenario, wondered why she had a stick. And in particular, "Why have I got the wrong end of it? Where's the right end? Has someone else got that?"


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