Tim Nunn

A magpie just landed on the window ledge next to my desk. I froze and for a minute or two he or she hopped around about four feet from my left shoulder.
Magpies are creatures I find difficult not to anthropomorphise, and not in a good way. When we first moved into this flat I hung a bird feeder out of the window and was delighted when garden birds found even though we are two floors up. Come Spring a family of blue tits emerged from a nest nearby and I think the bird feeder was the maiden flight of one of the young. I watched as the young bird reached the window ledge under the feeder, probably having followed an adult, but then got stuck. It screeched and screamed but didn’t fly. And then there was an enormous black and white streak across the window, fast and precise. The young bird was gone for magpie breakfast.
Of course I shouldn’t resent the magpie its kill. If the young bird had left the nest too early its chances of survival were minimal. Even if it were a survivor it was still destined to be part of the food chain one way or another. Hey, better the magpie than a greedy pet cat that could just as easily feed on tinned waste from the butcher.
So, maybe magpies aren’t really bastards and vicious and bullies, or ever so slightly sexy in smooth-latin-haughty sort of way. They’re just good at what they do and there’s more of them about then there was a few years ago. And the one that was on my windowsill a few moments ago was very beautiful.

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 20th, 2010 at 9:02 am and is filed under Personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.