We have pheasants round our cottage.
The female has a passion for fat-balls.
We have ended up serving one each morning for breakfast.
The alternative is calamity at the feeding station,
as she flaps into vertical take off
to try to nibble the fat balls in the holder
for the little birds.
and the chaffies and the finches and the sparrows
who are trying to have a quiet meal above,
all come to grief,
as she misses, and falls three feet in a second,
as the finches up end themselves out of her way,
the chaffies dive for cover
and the sparrows take to the wing.
And we trawl out yet again
to sort out a now most strange-looking feeding station.
we do it with love
because we are close neighbours.
We know that we are neighbours
because when Phyllis and Philip
had their 13 babies last year,
they brought them round one Sunday lunchtime
to show them to us.
They paraded round the cottage
at a great speed,
it may be said,
but it felt they were showing them off.
the next Sunday,
mum and dad came
but with only 4 babies.
We wondered had our other neighbour
( we haven't named him)
I am reminded how fragile
is New Life.
How it needs so little to survive
but it does need those
New Life is not complicated
It is very clear about its needs
They are few
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