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Over the years I have lived in this house, red kites have become a more and more familiar site from the kitchen window. However I was quite surprised recently when I walked to the park with the Merlin app and it registered the call of a buzzard. It did sound quite like a buzzard, but while they are around outside the city, I'd never seen them in so locally before. I mistrusted the app.
I should not have done. Last week, as my parents were repaying my hospitality by doing the front garden*, the birds were singing loudly in the trees with the usual goldfinches etc, and I, acting as foreman, thought I'd see what was making that other sound, which was a bit red kite-ish but not quite, and got buzzard again. And then we saw it sitting in the flowering cherry above us. A youngish one, presumably a yearling, and very obviously a buzzard. It hung around for quite a while, hopped between trees a couple of times, and then flew off, to the great relief of everything else around. So that was more exciting garden wildlife than usual. I haven't seen it again, but will be looking out.
More routinely, further buzzards were seen on Tuesday when I drove up to Leamington Spa for my private Covid jab. This turned out to be Pfeizer rather than Novavax, as the logistics were still being sorted, but I was happy with anything, and it did mean I got the latest one. Then lunch with uncle and aunt, before driving home. I was pleased to have a good Tuesday and feel rather fitter than I have been recently, because I spent Weds and Thurs absolutely pole-axed by exhaustion as a jab side-effect, but it's now gone so all in all that went pretty well.
And now it is April and the weather is warmer and I am spending this weekend enjoying that and relaxing. Starting with a late breakfast of waffles. Nineveh's waffle-making tip: if you like cardamom, add a pinch to the batter. It really works.
* Actually, this is more like my providing them with entertainment. Dad clearly feels that doing jobs for me when they visit allows him to think that he is still relatively young and fit** (in his late seventies), and the only pleasure Mum enjoys more than telling someone what to do with their garden***, is going to a garden centre, which we did on Saturday morning.
** Alas, not quite sufficiently so to paint the interior of the house for me, but you can't have everything.
*** She literally still had her coat on when they arrived late afternoon the Sunday before Easter and she stood in the window and said, "What I suggest you do is...". Monday, she started doing it.
I should not have done. Last week, as my parents were repaying my hospitality by doing the front garden*, the birds were singing loudly in the trees with the usual goldfinches etc, and I, acting as foreman, thought I'd see what was making that other sound, which was a bit red kite-ish but not quite, and got buzzard again. And then we saw it sitting in the flowering cherry above us. A youngish one, presumably a yearling, and very obviously a buzzard. It hung around for quite a while, hopped between trees a couple of times, and then flew off, to the great relief of everything else around. So that was more exciting garden wildlife than usual. I haven't seen it again, but will be looking out.
More routinely, further buzzards were seen on Tuesday when I drove up to Leamington Spa for my private Covid jab. This turned out to be Pfeizer rather than Novavax, as the logistics were still being sorted, but I was happy with anything, and it did mean I got the latest one. Then lunch with uncle and aunt, before driving home. I was pleased to have a good Tuesday and feel rather fitter than I have been recently, because I spent Weds and Thurs absolutely pole-axed by exhaustion as a jab side-effect, but it's now gone so all in all that went pretty well.
And now it is April and the weather is warmer and I am spending this weekend enjoying that and relaxing. Starting with a late breakfast of waffles. Nineveh's waffle-making tip: if you like cardamom, add a pinch to the batter. It really works.
* Actually, this is more like my providing them with entertainment. Dad clearly feels that doing jobs for me when they visit allows him to think that he is still relatively young and fit** (in his late seventies), and the only pleasure Mum enjoys more than telling someone what to do with their garden***, is going to a garden centre, which we did on Saturday morning.
** Alas, not quite sufficiently so to paint the interior of the house for me, but you can't have everything.
*** She literally still had her coat on when they arrived late afternoon the Sunday before Easter and she stood in the window and said, "What I suggest you do is...". Monday, she started doing it.