Where are the sparrows?
Sunday, May 14, 2006
It's not so long ago that any bread thrown out to the garden would attract a variety of birds of all sizes. Whatever species of bird arrived, from the occasional seagull, to pigeons and starlings, there was always a platoon of sparrows nipping quickly to snatch crumbs from between the legs of the larger brids. No more.
I can remember when puddles would immediately become bathing pools for sparrows. No more. Looking out of any window in the house would afford a view of sparrows on the fence or in the small trees close to the house. No more. Where have they gone?
My knee has not healed properly since a fall I had on my last skiing trip so I have not been for a morning run for many weeks. Instead, I have been taking a lengthy walk to pick up a paper and, occasionally, some bread or croissants from a baker that opens early. The newsagent and baker are on the southern side of the town and my walk takes me past the old church (and a prep school famous locally for some cases of child abuse a few years ago). In the old trees adjacent to the church and its extensive graveyard I've seen a jay (Garrulus glandarius) on two occasions recently. These are beautiful birds. (See picture.)
From the same family as the magpie, they exude a greater air of sophistication. The tuxedo worn by the magpie seems the brash statement of the parvenu. The jay's plumage, by comparison, has the air of generations of taste. The understated tan of the body highlighted by the merest glimpse of blue under the wing. Yet when it flies, the flash of blue and the white of its rump are all you see.
The sight of the jay cheers me up on my early morning walk. But I'm still worried about those sparrows.
I can remember when puddles would immediately become bathing pools for sparrows. No more. Looking out of any window in the house would afford a view of sparrows on the fence or in the small trees close to the house. No more. Where have they gone?
My knee has not healed properly since a fall I had on my last skiing trip so I have not been for a morning run for many weeks. Instead, I have been taking a lengthy walk to pick up a paper and, occasionally, some bread or croissants from a baker that opens early. The newsagent and baker are on the southern side of the town and my walk takes me past the old church (and a prep school famous locally for some cases of child abuse a few years ago). In the old trees adjacent to the church and its extensive graveyard I've seen a jay (Garrulus glandarius) on two occasions recently. These are beautiful birds. (See picture.)
From the same family as the magpie, they exude a greater air of sophistication. The tuxedo worn by the magpie seems the brash statement of the parvenu. The jay's plumage, by comparison, has the air of generations of taste. The understated tan of the body highlighted by the merest glimpse of blue under the wing. Yet when it flies, the flash of blue and the white of its rump are all you see.The sight of the jay cheers me up on my early morning walk. But I'm still worried about those sparrows.
