It is hard being Nomadic. It's alright for those nomadic tribes who have perfected the art of putting up and taking down their sturdy homes - and transporting them without too much trouble. It's alright for the snail, who seems to happily carry his home around on his back; and it's not too hard for the swallow and housemartins, who return to the same place each year and just have to do a major spring-clean on last year's nest. But for the rest of us it is a worrying time.
There is so much to take into consideration. For a start there is the Greater Spotted Woodpecker who comes to our bird table every day. Soon they will have a hungry family to feed and Mr and Mrs have long, barbed tongues that they can pop down a hole to scoop up precious babies. Then there's the bright-eyed Magpie who knows everything and is always on the look-out for a tasty morsel (ugh! I just can't bear to think about it). And, last but not least, there are the farm cats. Although they seem to prefer baby rabbit they wouldn't turn their noses up at a change of diet.
So yes, as I say (or rather tweet) it is hard.
But this year I really think we have found the perfect place. It is in a garden wall which faces due East, so we will get the morning sun to warm us nicely after a chilly night, but then we shall be in the shade all day, just kept warm by the heat in the stones. It is in such a nice neighbourhood. There will be no rowdiness I am sure. Our neighbours are Mr and Mrs Blackbird and Mr and Mrs Hedgesparrow, who have both set up home in a Clematis Montana/Tree Peony complex. At present it looks a bit scruffy but in a week or two it will look really pretty, covered with pink and yellow flowers.
As for our home, well by June it will be totally surrounded by Albertin - a pink climbing rose with a delicious smell. What more could any bird wish for?
Of course this morning when we were cleaning up the few bushes round the door (yes, there are already a few greenfly to be had) "she who provides our food" saw us. As she passed the landing window she spotted us on a hydrangea and she stopped dead. Of course, we saw her immediately, but she poses no threat so we let her watch us. I even popped back into our house just so that she could see where we had set up our home. So now she knows.
But, having discussed it with my husband, we think it is a good thing. Now she knows, she will be sure to provide those fat balls all Summer, so that feeding our family should be made much easier.
So, here I am, sitting on my nest in a warm, dry, cosy stone wall. My significant other is out looking for tasty morsels to tempt me into laying a second egg and I have nothing to do but doze in the early morning sun. It's a hard life being a coal tit.