Pigeons and magpies are already thinking of spring things
COUNTRY FILE
A PIGEON woke me this morning after what must have been the coldest night of the winter.
It wasn't even light outside, everything is covered in snow, and yet here was this crazy bird coo-ing and cawing and fluttering about in the ivy as if was tethered and trying to escape.
It wants to build a nest there, of course. And pigeons will continue to breed year round if conditions are at all suitable. But in this weather? The bird is mad, that much is evident. Its mate was there as well, sitting on a branch nearby and looking on with little interest.
For several years we have had pigeons nesting beside the house. They quickly become used to people coming and going, so that when eggs are being incubated the adults will sit tight even as individuals they are familiar with pass right underneath.
The female tends to most of that work, remaining on the nest for two-thirds of the time, while the male takes over for a few hours each day to give her a break.
We tend to overlook our wood pigeons. They can, after all, be seen every single day. We do not even have to look for them. They are there, grey and white and rather dull in both appearance and behaviour.
Perhaps if we look a little more closely we shall see they are rather interesting after all.
For one thing, their spring plumage is not just grey but in fact has a wonderful sheen of burnished bronze about it. And see what other colours the sun picks out!
The breast is softly pink, the feathers about the head and neck shine green, blue and gold, the ring around the eye is primrose yellow and the beak and legs flesh-coloured. In fact, the whole bird is of gentle, pastel hues.
It is no wonder, then, that our pigeon has such a kindly voice. He purrs more than any cat and sounds endlessly content. Although there are some who would tire of his calling, I like him and shall keep him for as long as he cares to stay.
They are not the only ones thinking of spring things. Magpies are beginning to carry sticks into the tall beech where they occasionally try to nest.
Although their work has been going on for a few days they have no foundation laid. Perhaps their chosen fork near the top of the tree is too broad to securely hold the twigs that take there. I shall not mind at all if they end up going somewhere else, for they are no friend of the pigeon.
There was one spring the magpies and the pigeon pair nested in the same tree.
Both lots of eggs hatched around the same time, and for a while I thought they might happily coexist. The magpies waited for the baby pigeons to pack on a bit of weight then came and slaughtered them not long before they were due to fledge, and took the bodies away to fatten their own youngsters.
Magpies were no friends of mine even before that unsavoury event took place. They have been sworn enemies ever since and I should not be sorry if I never saw another.
My pigeons came to bathe at the edge of an icy puddle, dipping their heads into the water and throwing it around with their wings.
They have a plentiful supply of ivy berries for food and a comfortable niche among the ivy leaves to build their twiggy platform of a nest. I hope they like it here.