Birdhouse for the soul...

Des res for rent…

Ah British Summer Time, we lose sixty minutes of precious sleep but it’s worth it for the lighter evenings. I awoke early in Wales to the sound of birds, sheep, and no pitter patter of raindrops. What a lovely sunny spring morning. It was almost as if somebody had turned off winter, flicked the spring button, and with the flick of that switch butterflies and pairing birds seemed to appear from nowhere.

The first butterfly of the summer flittered past as I stood in the drive in my shirtsleeves. Up in the holly tree the new nesting box that I put last autumn was being viewed by a pair of blue tits. They each popped in through the tiny entrance to the new box, then popped out again, flying off to probably have a bit of a chat about their prospective new home.

Within a few minutes of them leaving a pair of sparrows turned up for a viewing. After a quick inspection of the general area and the property itself they began moving in bits of dried grass and strands of sheep’s wool. Maybe they were deciding potential colour schemes, perhaps they were deciding where to put the television, and then, after a quick chirpy chat, they too flew off.

A few minutes later the tits returned for a second viewing, had another quick look around then left again as the sparrows reappeared with more nest building material.

Back and forth, back and forth - so it went on all morning, sparrows following blue tits, blue tits following sparrows. It was almost as if both couples were trying the house out without either of them quite deciding to make a firm offer.

As we reluctantly left for home, in the early afternoon, the sparrows were back.

Which couple will make the nesting box their home I wonder? Will either of them decide to nest inside my detached bijou residence? We’re back at the cottage in a couple of weeks and I’ll let you know.