Whilst sitting in the garden convalescing on one of the very few sunny days here in England, I couldn’t help notice the birds darting about their business. One bird in particular caught my attention, the Robin. Now I’m no ornithologist but I can pick out this red breasted winged vertebrate in a line-up. Watching the feathered animal aggressively fight off any other intruder on his patch, including some of his own kind. The garden was his. Any food found there belonged to him.
I was amazed just how similar the birds are to humans. Each having it’s own personality, some pottering about, some like the pigeons appear almost dopey, drunkenly stumbling about in their surroundings. Some like the crow just swoop in taking over the situation and demand prime position on any food while the lesser birds edged away.
I found myself comparing the birds to people I knew, amused by how many fitted so well. I turned my thoughts back to the UK’s favourite bird, his red chest not so predominant in the summer sun, but still fighting his corner, being the protective parent.
I must find out what the brown one is with the speckles – I think I know her!