May 21

Who could have guessed that my newly- discovered interest in wildlife would turn violent?

Inspired by tales of Amy and Peter’s blackbird who visits for mealworms and the sight of the two tiny green birds (greenfinches?) who chase each other around the skies above our terrace, I decided to send for a bird feeder and some feed. The feeder arrived and was duly sanitised, as was the bag of feed, a combination of seeds and nuts cutely called “peckish”. It had looked quite small in the picture but turned out to be about the size of a pillow and heavy as concrete.

My first dilemma was where to hang the feeder. I’m growing gooseberries and tomatoes on the terrace and we lost the tomatoes last year to blight. I don’t fancy losing them this year to a different predator. The feeder had to be distant from both, yet near enough for us to spot any visitors to it from our kitchen table.

I filled it, hung it and caused much amusement when the greenfinches arrived for the first time in the middle of a Zoom call with friends, who watched me become hysterical with delight. I’ve cracked it, I thought. All I have to do now is sit and wait for delightful and rare birds to turn up from all over the world.

(I had to pretend I didn’t have in mind my Australian friend’s visitors to his breakfast table last week.)

I HADN”T TAKEN PIGEONS INTO ACCOUNT!!!!!!!

They arrived in droves, shouldering the finches out of the way as they scavenged for seed the little birds had dropped from the feeder. I was reminded of what Trafalgar Square used to be like – hundreds of tourists delightedly buying bags of seed and stuffing it into scrofulous pigeons perched on their outstretched hands, shoulders and heads. Funny, we hardly noticed them go when the hawk patrol got rid of them once and for all – the pigeons, that is, not the tourists – though, of course, there’s no sign of those either, these days. But importing a hawk to our terrace wasn’t an option. We had to find another way.

It was ” the writer” who came up with the solution – water pistols.

Of course, we could have fun, get rid of the pigeons harmlessly and enjoy our greenfinches. Brilliant!

On line, searching for the perfect water pistol, I found myself in a parallel universe. with its own hyper-macho language:

“Stormblaster”, “Soakzooka”, “Floodtastic” “Hydrostorm big shot soaker”, “Barracuda”

I discovered that adults – male adults, mostly- actually buy water pistols – sorry, water guns – for themselves! I even read an article headed “Watery Warrier. Best guns for grown men”

In case you’re planning to join them- the favourite seems to be “The Mayhem” (See below.) Compensation or what!

The James Purdey or Holland and Holland of water guns appears to be a company called “Nerf” which, as yet, doesn’t seem to have progressed to the bespoke gun – making offered by the best English gunmakers. Perhaps Water Warriors aren’t prepared to wait the two years it can take to craft the perfect weapon for its owner. Nerf don’t even offer to alter their ready-made guns to fit the user like the real gunmakers do – a gap in the market perhaps?

Anyway, our “Stealth Soakers” arrived promptly.

Could the noise from the re-started building work have driven them away? Could they have sensed our malign intent? Might they return on Sunday when it’s quiet?

Watch this space…………..