The special needs group of ewes and lambs which was using our field as an inclusion unit has now moved on to higher pastures. We will miss them.
After thinking of willow warblers as elusive – heard but not seen – the breeding season imperatives overcome normal shyness: Mrs is gathering nesting material and will not be moved. Mr arrives, wings outspread, obviously turned on by this bed making behaviour. She is not impressed – nest making comes first. Obediently he helps gather the straw.
We now have to humour three generations of chickens. The adults need individual attention. June, for example, does like to be a bit by herself, but if a human appears she wants to be first for attention:
The pullets are relishing their new grass experience and play chasing games:
and the chicks know that all they have to do is look adorable:
or slightly comical:
in order to get all the mealworms and grapes they can handle.
Meanwhile the soil continues to push up magical shapes. After waves of snowdrops and then daffodils, the wood is now adorned with bluebells and lady’s smock and elsewhere…