Pinpoint coffee radar

Today’s guest picture comes from my friend and ex-work colleague, Ada. She had some company on her walk this morning.

Unlike Ada, I didn’t go for a walk today as I was discouraged by persistent light rain and strong winds. It was an odd sort of day, with the temperature rising steadily from 2°C in the early hours to 10° as I write this in the evening. It will be warmer at midnight tonight than it was a midday.

It was the vernal equinox yesterday, and normally I would be quite excited by that, as it should signal the start of longer cycle journeys and pleasant walks in the sunshine. This year, the weather has been so persistently gloomy that in spite of the daffodils appearing, it hardly feels like spring at all, just a continuation of a never ending winter season. As if to make the point, the weather gods are giving us a cold spell next week.

I don’t know if the birds are feeling the same about the weather as me, but as soon as I filled the feeder at nine o’clock, they came in dozens to stock up on seeds. The feeder was almost half empty by ten o’clock.

And for every bird on the feeder and perched in the willows, there were two or three on the ground below, scavenging what they could.

I counted about fifty birds on, below, and around the feeder.

It led to some rude behaviour as you might expect . . .

. . . and the birds came and went so swiftly that it was hard to get a good picture.

To ease the queues, I filled the second feeder and put it out. It was soon busy too.

The morning was not without bright spots though, as Dropscone came round for coffee. Then, just as I was pouring some coffee into his cup, we got another visitor. With his highly tuned coffee radar working overtime, Scott, our ex-minister, came through the back door.

Mrs Tootlepedal joined us, and the four of us sat and sipped, and chatted cheerfully for an hour. The excellent scones that Dropscone had provided disappeared in the twinkling of an eye.

I had a look at the new feeder when our visitors left. The birds had been busy while we talked, and it was nearly half empty already.

Siskins and greenfinches are not easily dislodged, and other birds had to wait for their turn.

After lunch, I took pity on those waiting, and refilled the first feeder. There was no let up in the demand for seed.

I did think of going for a walk as the rain was persistent but pretty light. Just at that moment though, the wind became very gusty, and even with light rain, walking was going to be a very soggy occupation. I threw in the towel, and settled down to indoor life. Mrs Tootlepedal made a break for freedom, and went off to get a haircut.

I didn’t waste the afternoon though. I put a scanned parish magazine and two weeks of the newspaper index on to the Archive Group’s website, ordered a large bag of oatmeal online, practised singing some hymns for the church choir, sent off documents for our roof insurance claim, and started work on the next Langholm Initiative newsletter.

This still left me with enough time to compliment Mrs Tootlepedal on her new hairstyle, cook a fruity bran loaf, and make seven pots of marmalade using tinned fruit.

All in all, for a day of miserable weather, it could have been a lot worse. Mrs Tootlepedal went out in the evening with our neighbour Liz to enjoy a performance of Oklahoma! given by our local operatic society. This is not my cup of tea, so I stayed at home and ate some tinned peaches.

The flying bird of the gloomy day is a siskin.