Tag Archives: predation

Going viral XXV: Where is our robin?

It was lunch time and chat time at the Glebe, just two of us there to be together, preserve social distance and be safe and happy while the watering got done.

D remarked that he had not seen a robin all morning, which was unusual, even unheard of. So we listened: the blackbirds were singing, the seagulls were screaming, and the traffic was rumbling by, but no sound of a robin. Had the black-and-white cat got it? Neither of us had seen a body.

Then we realised why the robins were so quiet. At the top of the arch over the gate was – a baby robin, in full view of those murderous seagulls and magpies. Indeed, a gull swept down very near the arch as we watched. From out of the hedge flew a parent and chivvied the baby away. Let’s hope it survives!

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Filed under corona virus, Interruptions, L'Arche, Spring

12 December: Beautiful killers and the greatest love.

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September had turned warm again, it was a good day to enjoy a sandwich in sight of the sea near Rye Harbour, and watch the world go by.

There were fewer humans than the last time I was this way, which was in August, but there were plenty of birds, as always. What first caught my eye was a small group of sand martins, swooping and swirling, stirring themselves up for the long flight to Southern Africa. Not quite ready to go yet! Was it a family group, the parents imparting their final advice before taking off in earnest?

A cormorant passed by, purposefully facing the light westerly breeze. A different spectacle altogether: its flying looked like hard work, though we know the grace they acquire as soon as they are in their watery element.

It must have been the frequent sightings of fighter planes this Battle of Britain month that set me comparing the martins to Spitfires, all speed and aerobatics and the cormorant to a ponderous Wellington bomber: killing machines both. So are the martins and cormorant killers, but not of their own kind and no more than necessary to feed  themselves and their children.

We humans know better than that of course.

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Redemption? Half a mile away is an abandoned wooden hut, the former lifeboat station. It was from here that seventeen men sailed and rowed to their deaths early last century, setting out in a storm to rescue the crew of a stricken ship. They did not know that the men were safely on shore before they set out. Their monument says they were doing their duty.

It was rather the greatest love.

(Another day at the same place.)

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Filed under Autumn, Daily Reflections, Laudato si', PLaces