The brave ones

Blue tits are successful creatures. Tiny as they are, they have great hearts and impressive intellect. They, of course, were the birds who worked out how to pierce the foil lids of the glass milk bottles that used to be left on British doorsteps. They passed the knowledge through their communities until it was a nationwide cultural adaptation. That source of calorific cream is long gone, but the blue tits make use of feeders in gardens. They keep an attentive eye out for what's on offer. Blue tits will also happily nest in nestboxes provided for them by people. Birds who are warier or fussier can't make use of all these human-offered lifelines.

Robins too are willing to put up with hominid neighbours, of course. And the most tolerant among them are willing to make friends.

Tane's two chicks are still both present. I call them Courage and Quest. I am not always sure which is which, but one day one of them would eat - albeit quickly - from the feeder while I was standing there. Then it would fly away. That was Courage. The other stayed in the tree, but wouldn't land on the feeder. It wanted to grab something while hovering - as one of last year's babies used to do from the blue tit feeder (that was Tapdance who may have been the mother). When Quest got one, he ate it on the tree and returned. Only one in three or four hovers was successful.

This is one of them... I think Quest...