Your kit sits quietly on your knee While you brush and groom her silken fur, Accepts a ribbon around her neck, Subsides into a contented purr: A perfect house cat. Yet I saw her Yesterday, creeping over the verge, Belly to earth, lifting paw by silent paw, Living her own life,gripped by the urge, The killing urge,to do as cats must do. No prey I saw - no bird, vole or mouse - But she sprang, clapped paws twice,leapt,and slew A cricket! Oh, velvet killer of your house!
We were taking a break from work at the Glebe garden, indoors because the weather was unseasonably cold. My friend looked out to see two blue tits on the bird feeder. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity between the feeder and the nearby elder, now in full leaf and bloom. There was a family of blue tits! Were they from the nesting box in our garden, or maybe from Peter’s box on the balcony across the river?
No chance of any sort of a photo from that distance, but here is a glorious image from Francis C. Franklin, via Wikipedia. Let’s hope the fledglings soon learn about the predatory cat that has begun to frequent the garden. Maybe the cold morning kept it indoors, or the noise of power tools and hammers from next door.
Thanks to my sharp-eyed friend for a special moment!
Will Turnstone 