I'm babysitting Jack's cat, Socks this week and so am often found hopping over the border between our gardens. I like that we just have shrubs between us as it gives a natural look to the garden. Shame we can't do the same the other side but as Milo, the dog, has been in our gardens five times in four days, much to the general alarm of the hens who scuttle off to the safety of their elevated hen house at the mere sight of him and who can blame them, we have no choice but to fence it off.
Yesterday morning I went to feed Socks when I heard a loud, excitable whirring noise. I knew what it was, Luke had chanced upon the perpetrator earlier when he opened up the chicken house. It was a tiny wren, a little brown mouse of a bird with it's upright tail and downturned beak. In case I didn't know what was making the noise it flew in front of me and landed in another shrub where it again started it's high drum roll of a noise.
I have seen a pair of wrens up behind our shed so am guessing there is a nest there too. One of the pair came very close to me, three feet away, clinging to the ivy on the shed before perching on the corner of the shed's roof and making it's racket as if to scare me off. I have been bullied into submission and am now hiding in the house because I don't want to disturb the pair of them. Chased indoors by one of the smallest birds known to man!
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