Well, if you didn’t know that the baby blackbird had disappeared at around the same time as Hissy died (and why would you?) This won’t be news. But today, something struck me about the flurry, fuss and noise of a blackbird close by. I had cheese parings in the barn (as you do…) and made what I call the ‘tuk, tuk noise’ that I used to call the baby blackbird with. And… there he was, at my feet and waiting.
I say ‘he’ decidedly now, because when it was the baby blackbird, before moulting into its adult plumage I had no idea. Now his beak has almost become sunny yellow, and his feathers are becoming the glossy black of a male, rather than the dull dark brown of a female.
He’s got friends. But they don’t know about the ‘tuk tuk noise’ or cheese, so he gets it all and imagine/hope that next Spring, when it’s mating time and territories start to get fought for, he’ll fight extra hard to stay here. He knows that there’s a tame human who won’t get too annoyed when he and his family start eating more than their fair share of the gooseberries, and red currants, and black currants.