A notice appeared on a lamp post in our lane, an application to remove a conifer. While that tree was not a thing of great beauty, I knew it was important to our birds.
Blackbirds and thrushes used it as a song-post, proclaiming their territories, and it provided cover for small birds travelling down from Kendal Fell into the gardens to feed.
There was cover for fledglings too – I knew this because of watching the fortunes of our garden blackbirds and their broods over the years. I knew too that there were blackbirds nesting in the hedge in the lane.
I’d seen the telltale signs of one bird feeding at a time, taking beakfuls of insects back to the hedge, the male adopting his swirling, banking flight, and on one occasion winging past my ear, zooming away uttering his alarm call, letting me know I was in the way.
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