Squirrels
in the planters,
Slugs in the veg,
Blackbirds
digging in my pots,
Cats pouncing from the hedge.
This sounds like an excerpt from a children’s rhyme and I
may make it into one but it most aptly describes my garden on most occasions. I
shouldn’t, then, have been shocked to discover what I saw when I crawled out
recently from beneath my covers, shuffled downstairs and stood bleary-eyed at
my kitchen window. The scene - a mass of white.
I know what you
are thinking – snow, as did I….initially. (It is summer – what else?) As it
looked quite patchy I realised it warranted further investigation. To my amazement,
as I reached the door I realised that instead of snow, the covering on my lawn
was, in fact, feathers. Lots and lots of fluffy, downy white feathers. What on
earth had happened? Asking myself this question prompted me to ponder on what
the children would think of my ‘blanket of feathers’ outdoors.
When they arrived, later that morning, I remarked at the
sight outside and asked them, firstly, what they thought it could be. As they
looked out from the patio doors they could see what the elder one described as
“white blobs.” We had to go out and take
a look. Under close supervision we
trooped out with our magnifiers to inspect my garden.
The magnifying glasses revealed the filaments of the
feathers, larger versions of which they have happily played with indoors.
“How did they get here I wonder?” I began the
conversation.
The eldest child thought the birds must have “left them
for us.”
I wasn’t so sure and I couldn’t quite believe that one
bird could have so many feathers.
On retiring indoors we began some research. There are
some amazing facts about feathers. (As a childcarer I am constantly learning.)
Here are a few ‘Did you know..?’ facts.
Apparently, the number of feathers on a bird varies according to;
species, size, sex, age, health, season, and temperature of habitat. Most
songbirds have between 1500 and 3000 feathers and there are 7 different types of feather. I
have quite a collection of my own and we looked at the contrasting types.
All this was very interesting but this didn’t answer my question;
what happened to the now, presumably, featherless bird? My own knowledge of my
garden is inclined to lead me to believe that it was a fox. I have seen of them in broad daylight
confidently prowling in the bushes and some of the extremely large, slow-moving
wood pigeons are easy prey. This brought me to an additional problem; how to
discuss the apparent savagery of such a well-loved wild animal? I say ‘well-loved’ because the children are
young and are used to tales of ‘Foxey Loxey’ and the not so unfriendly fox in
the ‘Gruffalo.’
I decided to take my lead from the children and see what
other explanations they could come up with after talking a little more about
birds, feathers and wildlife generally.
“I know some foxes eat birds”,
I offered when the children became quiet.
The reply?
“I won’t be a fox
- don’t want to eat pigeon with fluff on it!”
How fantastically sensible.
