Last weekend we were woken by six crows fighting our resident wood pigeons for a bed behind the soffit board. They were huge so close to – I watched the pitched battle from the bedroom window. The noise was incredible and the struggle went on for hours, with cascades of moss and bird bedding rolling down the shed roof. The pigeons were surprisingly good at self-defence. When I went in later that evening it was peaceful, and next morning the wood pigeons were back in their third floor bed, cooing to one another.
Then getting changed yesterday afternoon I caught a movement from the corner of my eye. Down at the bottom of the garden, under the trees, was a female sparrow hawk. We keep the binoculars handy for twitching, and I was almost sorry I took a look; it was ripping apart a bird and eating strips of bloody flesh. After a few moments, I realised it was a wood pigeon. When I looked round the gardens I spotted a lone pigeon on the neighbour’s tree. There was no-one in the third floor nest.
It was quite something to see, with its powerful claws and huge curved beak, eyes scanning the skyline for threats. And I know it’s all part of life, food chain, natural predators and all that, but it made me quite sad. It was very quiet outside this morning.
