Why would there be a very dead rabbit five feet up a tree impersonating a Francis Bacon screaming pope? A question I had reason to ponder this afternoon in a wood outside Lockington here in East Yorks. I’d seen red kites dawdling overhead earlier in the afternoon. Would they take rabbits? Might a red kite (or if not, what) have taken one and dropped it by mistake? Or on purpose (à la shrike)? A quick google search finds accounts of dead rabbits spotted twenty feet up trees, which might tax the ingenuity of even the local satanist/ wax-jacketed oaf fraternity. Anyone who might the answer, speak.
Note bullfinch in branches. There was also a small bird in the hedegrows whose song I can only compare to a walkie-talkie or some kind of phone signal. And again, o ye knowledgeable ones, speak.
And is that a fieldfare (going by the grey neck)? Or am I getting that completely wrong?
‘Scorborough’. Don’t you love saying that. It’s an east-coast seaside town pronounced in a Dart (‘Dort’) accent, evidently. Or a hamlet on the road to Driffield. Take your pick!
2 comments:
that little grey-necked chap is a dunnock, aka hedge sparrow. Their bizzare sex lives (stuff going on at the base of your leylandii) have been detailed by David Attenborough in The Life of Birds.
Many thanks for that, Sean.
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