Our favourite walking place is having a face lift, mainly thanks to the stroppy Tunbridge Wells BC.
The Forestry Commission guys and gals have to rearrange all their parking for visitors, because they are actually too popular, and any overflow parking is now frowned upon by the burghers of this man's town for some obscure reason.
We don't mind too much, because we always get there pretty early and give JRT the run off the place, or as far as her long lead will allow her, as if we ever let her off, she'd vanish in the direction of the nearest rabbit, and never be seen again. But she's a good walker, and we usually stay mates all the way round the place.
Recently, the Forestry bods had to fence in some areas of the car park, because of the proposed works there. They put up plastic fencing around several areas, and we found out that it was there to retain all the lizards for relocation, which is rather sweet! They saved 69, and presumably, the reptile population will flourish to be eaten by other reptiles or whatever. But a couple of weeks ago, the powers-that-be had some sort of night time experience, where they lit up the trees and charged everyone about £16.00 to walk round and admire the scenery in the dark. Somehow we couldn't see the point of all this, but the offshoot is that when they did all their cabling and preparation, the wild life seemed to hide and shrink away.
As you know, there are several large fish in Marshal's Lake (nuclear scientists etc), and they've vanished. The ducks all fiddled and farted around for days afterwards, and seemed fed up with the whole blasted issue, the two resident shags (ha ha ha), don't know whether they want a shit or a haircut, and we're making friends with several crows which seems somewhat odd!
We're gradually getting the ducks back, the fish are taking much longer, but the crows are becoming proper characters. Mrs S carries a few crusts for various wildlife, and one morning, left some pieces for three crows, which were lurking in the trees nearby. We've become rather attached to Charlie, Chris and Crusty, because they immediately squawk, and dip down to feed as soon as we're away, and seem to be very happy birds.
But, this morning, Mrs S forgot to bring the comestibles, and we were followed round, spied upon from the trees, 'cawed' at, and on several occasions swooped on with a 'whoahhhgh whoahhhgh whoahhhgh' straight out of Hitchcock's movie! They're gorgeous, and they seem to telegraph their mates on the next reservation, that one old fart and his wife are back, flinging cheer and Hovis in all directions.
Hovis....you are too good to those birds,save a crust for me.
ReplyDeleteBlimey Killers!
ReplyDeleteIf they'd been seagulls, I'd have understood, but your location of the nest sounds awful!
Aren't you pleased that we're doing our best to keep them away from your neck of the woods?
The council members are presumably forming a quango with a chief exec on £100,000 to investigate the issue.
They'll report in three year's time.
These bits are actually from Mrs S's Mum Blues, I've often recalled the crusts we used to crave at school, dunno why, but they were always the most requested and fought for, when starvation beckoned after the daily bowl of watery gruel...
ReplyDeleteProbably was the same at your school I wager?
For a moment I thought I was on dear old Mutley's blog.
ReplyDeleteWell me old son. Crows have to eat as well and they are territorial. I wouldn't mind a good heel of a Hovis crust myself.
ReplyDeleteI have been off to places unknown and off again to Mexico for December in a few days. The fall has been dreadful and really need a break the mrs's and me.
So Happy Christmas and Happy New Year.
It still seems strange when one sees a crow on a beach Killers, almost as bad as the seagulls infesting our pond, and making the ducks look decidedly worried!
ReplyDeleteYou nearly were Elecs, we do miss him, and much of his stuff was beach orientated!
ReplyDeleteTarfers, howthedevilareyou!
ReplyDeleteTake the break when you can - mine is enforced with all this bloody snow at the moment!
My Dad used to sing a song about three crows: -
"There were three crows sat on a tree,
As black, as black as buggery..."
...and those are all the words I can remember!