Sunday, January 02, 2011
Combe
There was an icy sting in the breeze as we set off past the gibbet, but bright sunshine lifted our spirits. As we carefully approached the pheasant feeder on Sheepless Hill, a mass of birds flew away. I just clicked into what was left on the ground and discovered later that among the chaffinches and blue tits there was a brambling (on the left by the straw).
Two willow tits were heard and then briefly seen. What appeared to be the remains of a bird of prey were hanging in an oak tree; but whether this was the result of some natural incident or a gamekeeper's ploy to deter other raptors, I don't know.
At the bottom of the track near the church, three chickens were foraging among the dead leaves. Like my mum before me, I always like to see free-ranging chickens as they scrape with their feet to get at worms and things. They were very tame (and I still failed to get a decent pic!) One of them was pecking away at the corpse of a pheasant.
// posted by Christine @ 12:23 PM 
