I mowed the lawn today – our pocket handkerchief lawn takes longer to mow than it looks like it would, and as I quite like the daisies and interesting textures formed by the various (not always grass) plants in the lawn, I tend to leave the lawn to grow longer than is easy to mow. John Brookes said he didn’t really understand New Zealand gardens as they have far too much lawn. My friend Rita Oliver says it’s the most expensive crop in the world – ‘you grow it, you mow it, you throw it away’.
Which is true.
After I’d finished the mowing I hosed off the mower and topped up the birds drinking bowl. We don’t have one of those hideous bird baths, we have a nice, large, terracotta planter saucer. It must be quite high fired because it holds water fine, and looks good, wedged in the crown of an old apple tree.
Lo and behold, shortly after I retired to the conservatory to have a breather a male blackbird arrived with a baby. Interesting. The baby looked like it was about the right age to have come from the clutch in the abandoned nest. I don’t imagine the parents somehow took an egg from the abandoned nest to a new nest, but there were three eggs, and one vanished mysteriously. And now here’s papa and baby…
Conspiracy theories abound.
The abandoned nest is quickly recycling itself.