Early summer saw the first swallows fledge on 9th June. They had been looking very precarious perched in a row on the edge of the nest for some days and then suddenly one day we arrived hone to find the young swallows flying circuits around the roof of the house like a squadron of spitfires. They screamed and chattered with obvious joy. In the evening they returned to perch on the shelf we had erected below the nest to catch the copious amounts of droppings. They seemed to be using it as a resting point as they built up their stamina by short burst of flight. They were a joy to watch.In the evenings they made forays out across the fields swaying with corn to catch flying insects in the warm summer air.

A whitethroat that had nested on the ledge above the south facing kitchen window had also left her nest.She had steadfastly sat on this nest while we went to and fro from the adjacent door. The birds dedication to rearing the next generation in the face of bad weather conditions, unknowing interference from mankind and some strange choices in nesting sites is amazing.

We also had blue tits nesting in the box fixed to the rose trellis. You could not fail to notice them as when the babies hatched they were very noisy and chattered away as soon as a new beak full of food arrived a the entrance to the box. The nest box was surrounded by an evil rose which would draw blood as soon as I touched it but the parent blue tits flew in and out with no trouble and the babies fledged to line up on a branch of the convenient birch tree to wait to be fed.

The wild birds were thriving and we had to make a decision about what to do about our lack of bees.