Robin mysteries

[I]t could be said that as mere images or representations, photography and film betray what they depict. But this is a dialectically unimaginative stance. They can teach us to see, notice, attend, and ask more questions. - David Wood

As you know, I have worried a great deal about the invasion of privacy, the intrusion, the failure to be present, that occurs when photographing and filming rather than just being with the birds. That quotation though does ease my mind.

On a personal level, spending as much time as I do outside trying to get pictures, looking carefully for the light on the leaf, the dew drop, the spider's web, all that, it attunes me to the wonder of the world, even in a small space like my messy garden.

I love these two images of Tane. The light, the bare branches.

And the time I spend, yes, well, I see and hear so much more. Not that Chestnut is much more inclined to attend to me.

Nonetheless, I see interesting behaviour. This is Tapdance (at least, that's the bird's name now - this one has an asymmetrical breast on the opposite side to Tane... if you see what I mean).

Tapdance showed up and stood there on the fence for two minutes, watching me. Behind me, I could hear Chestnut complaining. Maybe Tane too. Then someone, Chestnut I think, chased Tapdance away and two robins flew back through the hedge. One stayed in there, whistling. This made me think that it was Chestnut whistling and surely I'd heard Tiny whistling... maybe this was confirmation that Chestnut is a female?

I also watched a squirrel seemingly gathering leaves. I remembered that I watched a squirrel gathering leaves when I was sitting with Kairos. Are they preparing for babies? Or just adding blankets and insulation to their drays?

I'd also watched a crow attacking a small raptor, who fought back - which the red kites and buzzards seldom bother to do. I guess for the smaller birds of prey, a crow is a threat that must be forcibly deterred.