Bird Watching

A photo of the pigeon under the nest (which is the dark patch in the tree above the pigeon and slightly to the left). Since I last photographed the nest, the tree has bloomed with green leaves and little seed pods, partially obscuring the nest from view. As this was not such a glorious photo, I spruced it up a little.

A photo of the pigeon under the nest (which is the dark patch in the tree above the pigeon and slightly to the left). Since I last photographed the nest, the tree has bloomed with green leaves and little seed pods, partially obscuring the nest from view. As this was not such a glorious photo, I spruced it up a little.

It is exam season, and inevitably I am spending a lot of time sitting at my desk, immersed in my books. Hour three of my studying was quickly approaching when I realized that for the past twenty minutes I had not, in fact, been studying, but looking out my window. The  magpie was at work again toting twigs from who knows where into her nest. She caught my eye as she glided past the window, and as I watched the pigeon came swooping in, bee-lining for the lower branch of the tree, just under the magpie's nest. The pigeon and the magpie have had quite a few interactions over the past month or so, and I have, I must confess, become quite the bird watcher. Usually, a pigeon-magpie confrontation goes like so: the magpie will be hard at work flying back and forth between the great unknown and her nest, and while she is away the pigeon will sneakily sail in and establish itself on a branch a few feet below the magpie's humble abode. Upon returning, the magpie will see this new threat to her wee ones and go on the attack, diving at the pigeon. There will be a frenzied moment where wings beat, feathers flail, and talons flash, and then the pigeon will fly off. The magpie will hover for a few seconds before hopping up the branches to her home and then, assured that her nestlings are safe, will fly off again for more supplies.