Joanna Cruddas writes:
I’m very coincidence aware since hearing about the Cambridge Coincidences collection. When I sat down to write this blog, I first looked through an article on blackbirds. Then I glanced through my emails. The first one from a friend read: “Took a long walk today and Judy (the dog) presented me with two dead blackbirds…” Extraordinary.
Last week I was pottering in the kitchen when I noticed a blackbird perched on the balcony railing.
It stayed a full 20 minutes. I kept checking because it didn’t look that well but eventually it hopped off so I hope it was just basking in the winter sun and surveying the scene. Not much of a scene you may think but until a couple of years ago, during the blackbird mating season, the roofs opposite were as lively and competitive as any dance floor.
One April, my sweet pea seedlings were dug up. They were in pots on the balcony waiting to be planted out. First one pot was raided, then the next. The few seedlings left lay limp. I spotted the culprit – a female blackbird. Furious, I shouted at her. From a safe distance, her beady eye stared at me with total insolence. She had a job to do. Shortly afterwards I noticed a mess of twigs and stems on the window ledge beside the dining room window box. It was only when I spotted a nest being built the other side, that I realised my sweet pees had been part of the beginnings of the first abandoned build. The switch of location was obvious. The other side was much more sheltered by geraniums that had survived the winter and were spilling over the window ledge. My anger switched to delight.
However, alongside the excitement came dilemmas. I no longer dared open the window and water the geraniums. It was dead geraniums or abandoned nest. Any visitors to the flat were made to walk and talk quietly. My feathered guests were twitchy and took flight at sudden noise or vibration. Three eggs appeared.
I don’t remember how long it was before they hatched but suddenly there was a hive of activity. Two (one egg didn’t hatch) extra mouths to feed meant a lot of to-ing and fro-ing. By this time I was tip-toeing around my own home, fascinated but protective. Friends were intrigued, but house rules were strict and photography had to be banned. The blackbirds were frightened if we went near the window.
In the end, and to my dismay, it was me who caused these two tiny birds to fly the nest. By mistake I frightened them. In a nanosecond, off they soared, or off one soared. The other hit the neighbouring house. The commotion was extraordinary. The male blackbird squawked and stamped up and down the roof in a state of total anxiety high above the stunned and terrified fledgling cowering on the ground. The female blackbird sang and darted about in a frenzy, but neither went down to the ground to be with it. Rightly or wrongly, I did. I burst through my neighbour’s flat, scooped up the tiny bird and brought it back to the window ledge. By the next morning it had hopped into the shelter of the geraniums where it remained seemingly paralysed with fright.
I supposed the adults wouldn’t go near once I had touched it. Perhaps they wouldn’t have anyway. But they were still on the roof opposite. I left for work and when I came home it and they had gone. Who knows how this ended, but a few weeks later I saw in the park, just yards from where I live, an adult female blackbird pecking about with two younger ones. I just had to hope it was my friends.
I left the nest on the window ledge for many weeks, but eventually it seemed time to move it. The mark it left was of a perfect circle that could not have been bettered by a compass.
Maybe it was a coincidence, but the following spring there were no flirtations on the roofs opposite. I felt I had offered an unsafe house and the word had got around. The next spring was the same. So the arrival of a male blackbird on the balcony last week has been a big moment. I’ll let you know if I spot any romance in the air in coming weeks.
DON’T MISS the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch this weekend, January 28/29. Just take an hour to watch and count the birds you see in your garden or local park. Click on the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch link for counting sheets and information on how to submit your results.
The Three-Year Allotment Notebook by Joanna Cruddas with photographs by Edwina Sassoon is published by Frances Lincoln at £12.99
Tags: Big Garden Birdwatch, Birdwatch, Blackbird, RSPB, seedlings, sweet pea, sweet pea seedlings
