Following the blackbird’s story

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/jun/19/country-diary-following-blackbirds-story

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The blackbirds have chosen yet again to build their nest at virtually ground level. Last year they sited it within the tangle of shrubs beside the garden bench, forcing us to abandon one of the pleasantest spots in which to sit, as our every approach caused the incubating female to flee in panic.

This summer, thankfully, it is on the opposite side of the garden, wedged between two slim stems of a large escallonia. Beautifully constructed from interwoven grasses now dried and brown, the nest is partially camouflaged by the slender branches of a fuchsia brought down in the winter gales and left lying against the fence in the hope of adding even a little more cover against future winds.

The dappled sunlight falling across both blurs the boundaries between them, rendering the sitting bird almost invisible from some directions. Spear-shaped crocosmia leaves have sprung up all around, and as they sway in the breeze, they too help to hide her from view. Confident in the midst of this cover she has sat tight even when we’ve had to pass within feet of her.

Though difficult to spot when in the garden, from the kitchen window the nest has been surprisingly easy to see, and using binoculars we’ve been following the blackbird’s story. We feared that being so low to the ground the eggs would be vulnerable to predators such as cats and polecat ferrets, so yesterday, on seeing no bird present, we feared the worst.

Dashing out for a quick peek we discovered not disaster but four or five chicks just a few days old. Blind, pink-skinned, with just the faintest dusting of down, they were huddled together so closely it was impossible to count them accurately in the few seconds we stayed.

Today the sun has gone, the rain is lashing down and a gale is blowing. Once again the female is sitting low in the nest, this time protecting her near naked young from the unseasonal weather. But if all goes well, in only a couple of weeks they should fledge. Our fingers are firmly crossed.