Birds...

Swallows are tearing around the meadow; low to the ground, in a formation it seems. A last chance to eat as much as possible before they migrate again?

I don't know. I would have thought it would be too late for another brood, and someone told us a couple of weeks ago they had already left for the summer. At least they are not trying to come into the house at the moment.

There must be a couple of dozen of them, and they are almost moving like bats; I'm glad I could see their white chests, otherwise I'd be having to peer harder...

Sad news about the turtle doves; they've been driving me potty with their flirting on the fence/wall - we already had a nest full of babies poo-ing on our lovely new floor in the grenier, so I really didn't want any more of that sort of thing, thank you.

Each time I hear them cry, I've been muttering about "crapping babies" and "sodding Bill Oddie" as I'm sure he's assured us on TV that parent birds take away their babies' droppings so that predators can't find the nest.

Well they don't! And I'm not happy about it; neither is David, who has been chief pooper-scooper this season as he's been Xylophèning the floor upstairs.

That all changed a couple of days ago when I located the *ahem* smell upstairs; I'd been catching an unpleasant whiff, but as it reminds me of the bin when David has cooked meat/eaten a saucisson I didn't really think too much about it. Then I was by a window and wondered whether we've had another rodent die in the cavity behind the insulation.

Thankfully a spare cast-iron ceiling [no, not really spare, David, I will find a home for it, promise!], was in the way of my foot...

Landing on a several-day old corpse!

Yuk!

I felt so sorry for the bird, its beautiful plumage [no it's not a Norwegian Blue, why do you ask?] serving no point any longer. I think it might be a fledgling that we'd seen on the window ledge that didn't realise the exit was between boards high up on the side wall, and had dashed itself against the window in an attempt to escape.

But seeing the lone turtle dove on the fence, it might have been the female.

I really wasn't up to checking too closely as I was disposing of the remains, and the *ahem* "passengers" that had accumulated. I'm fully expecting the bin to be full of flies, but if I leave it long enough perhaps they will be dead, too.

[I'm not that disgusting, but mainly produce compost and recycling, and wash everything that I put in the bin to avoid smells; it takes me several weeks to produce a carrier bag's worth of rubbish.]

It reminded me of last year's redstart nest that never made it; dead hatchlings littered about the floor upstairs...

At least all the redstarts, goldfinches and linnets I've seen this season look in blooming health; they certainly appreciate my efforts in the garden - I've only dead-headed things that didn't attract seed-feeders in the first place, after the insects had finished with them, and I'm sure our garden is one of the most wildlife-friendly in the area.

And the other nest of turtle doves seemed fine when David came face-to-face with a sitting hen as he was Xylophèning joists above our new bedroom; he didn't know who was more surprised!