Observations in high Summer

We spent many days watching the wren build her nest. Bringing feather, leaf and twig to the same spot as last year - a small pocket behind the guttering of our wooden house in the Devon countryside. Once the eggs hatched, we enjoyed the chirps throughout the day, those little hungry mouths, waiting to be fed. For a while, it felt like the whole garden was alive with life: the woodpecker at the bird feeder, the kingfisher hunting in the river and the field mice scurrying under the decking after gathering some of the seeds that dropped to the ground.

Then, almost all at at once, the wrens fledged and seemingly took all the energy with them. Admittedly, we need to refill the bird feeders, and we haven’t had rain in weeks so the river is very very low but it still surprised me how quickly the atmosphere can change.

It’s also that point in July where the swifts start to disappear and begin their great migration south and most of the young birds have fledged too. There’s a hazy kind of lull in the garden and a sense that the season has paused for an afternoon nap.