Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Dunnocks to you

Husband spent most of the weekend up a tree.

I can't bear to watch; I can't even bear to be in the house while he's perched precariously on the wobbly ladder or a branch not strong enough to hold his weight so I make an excuse to go out. At least on this occasion he didn't have his chainsaw up there with him. At least I don't think he did.

The problem with pruning trees at this time of year is what falls out when disturbed.

When I told him off for leaving the nest on the floor where the eggs could be eaten, he explained that the dunnock eggs were already cold when the nest fell out of the tree, and that the mother wouldn't come back even if he put the nest back in another place. 'But they'll be eaten!' I cried.
'They're already dead so they might as well provide a meal for something,' he said. 'That's nature's way.'
Hmmm.
For a long time I thought the bird was called a Wee Dunnock because that's what Husband always calls them. Tonight I asked him and he said, 'No, it's just that they're little and dunnock sounds Scottish.'
Dunnock is their proper name; they're also known as hedge sparrows.
I have become very enamoured of blackbirds recently. There's one - or possibly more than one - who perches on our roof and sings his little socks off. Blackbirds sing wonderful songs; I never realised. They're pretty birds too. Unlike most black birds that can have a sinister and evil appearance, they're small and dainty.
I took our camera out to try and capture the song. Trouble was that I didn't know how to record a film so ended up with still blurry photos. The next time I took the manual with me and read it (flicked through it until I found the bit about filming). Then I found out that I'd been wasting my time as the camera records action but not sound. I also discovered that there was an amazing amount of stuff I don't know about using our camera. It's like the computer: I can do certain things on it but am probably not using one hundredth of its capabilities.
I wonder if I have hidden capabilities. Now would be quite a good time to find them if I have. Before it's too late.

5 comments:

Puss-in-Boots said...

Blackbirds have a beautiful song, especially in the spring. Have you heard that lovely Beatles song called "Blackbird"? It's not terribly well known but it's one of my favourites.

Elsie said...

Another one of those man things I simply don't understand. My husband climbs trees, too, but I think his favorite place is the roof.

Anonymous said...

Nice story. Too bad about the eggs, but that is just part of nature.

Congratulations on winning a copy of Brett Battles ARC. I saw you name on his site.

mdmhvonpa said...

And this is why I prune in the fall ... fewer leaves, no squatters.

Welshcakes Limoncello said...

Beautiful post. I feel as if I can hear the birds! I think I'd go out if my loved one was perched up a tree, too! Poor dunnocks ... I'd have cried, too. [I'd never seen the word before.] I'm sure you have hidden capabilities, Liz!