Early this evening, I was at the kitchen sink when something on the drive caught my eye. A bird hunched over its kill! It saw my movement and turned its head toward the window. The peregrine locked talons into its prey and took flight! On the drive! A first for this garden. Maybe. Who knows what wildlife visitors we have when we are not looking. Too late for my friends Barbara and Austin who had been staying. We heard a peregrine over Brock Crags, Patterdale, but could not see it. On the day of their arrival, we walked on Potter Fell, to Gurnall Dubbs. In the heather habitat bordering the tarn bell heather was in bloom and berries were ripening: tiny black berries of crowfoot and bearberry too. Suddenly Austin scooped up a handful of water and a tiny newt. Next, a froglet. The shallow water fringing the tarn was alive with them. There were shoals of fish too. Swallows skimmed the water and disappeared into the boathouse, feeding their young.
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AuthorJan Wiltshire is a nature writer living in Cumbria. She also explores islands and coast and the wildlife experience. (See Home and My Books.) Categories
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