Allotment in Autumn
It’s mayhem in robin land: there are at least three individuals competing for the suet every time they see me; one even flies onto the shed door if the food isn’t served within a minute of me arriving. This bird is almost eating out of my hand and by winter’s end s/he might be – they become bolder as the ‘natural’ food declines. The carrion crow pair eat the suet crumbs, too, even though I specifically put out peanuts for them, and the magpies attack the suet feeder by balancing on a stumpy branch and pecking precisely at the diminishing square block inside it.
The bold robin
The magpies, however, have been wary of the plot for a while. A couple of weeks ago, not long after I came across the remains of two woodpigeon kills dotted around the plot, I found magpie remains. They are a quick, intelligent bird, not easy to catch – unlike the waddling woodies – but it seems that the allotment fox got lucky. The quills are chewed at the base, indicating teeth, rather than whole, which would imply they had been plucked out by a sparrowhawk. There have also been *quite* a number of fox poos dotted around the plot recently, and I wonder if the fox is using the plot as its base – it would certainly explain the used nappy found under the ivy not so long ago (that the fox had brought it in thinking there was food in it, not that the fox wears one)!
The fox’s presumed den
The long-tailed tits are visiting again, surrounding the plot with constant contact ‘tseeps’ as they flit from tree to tree, onto the cherry tree to sample the peanuts, over to next door’s plot, and back again. I hear them before I see them and their calls surround me with joy.
A wren is ‘tacking’ from the other side’s plot, and the robins were doing the same earlier. The last time the robins were making this ground predator alarm call, it was for one of the allotment cats. This morning, though, I am in for a wonderful surprise. As I look up, I see a large reddish-brown shape on the other side’s plot: a beautiful fox, frozen, as I now am, too. We stare at each other for a moment – me in awe, it in probable surprise/horror – and then it’s away, moving fast. Strange that it is out during the day, although it’s only 9.30am, so perhaps it was returning to rest after a heavy night’s hunting.
Nothing can beat that encounter today – not even the male kestrel hovering around the site or the black-tailed godwits, pied wagtails, and pristine Med gull I see at Jericho Lane football fields on the way home.