A pigeon is building a nest in the neighbor's gigantic rose shrub, the one that overhangs our patio. I watched him (or her?) yesterday morning, landing on the wooden trellis, parading up to the bush, disappearing inside with a lot of flapping and thrashing, and then emerging again to repeat the process. Back and forth, back and forth, about ten times. Doesn't she (he?) look proud?
I had no idea pigeons nested in trees. I thought they nested on rocky cliffs or, in our modern world, on buildings.
Maybe we'll actually get to see that most elusive of all urban wildlife -- the baby pigeon!
I continued my garden labors yesterday, cleaning the rest of the patio. I started sweeping up under the pots at the side of the house, where we keep the fig tree, but when I moved the first plant I disturbed a whole little world of insects -- metallic blue beetles and brown centipedes and ants and pillbugs, all nesting under the saucer. I let them scurry away but I still felt bad. I didn't move any other pots.
I also cleaned out the garden shed at the side of the house. It's a tiny space and somehow, no matter how carefully I try to keep it tidy, everything piles up in there willy-nilly. When the pile gets so all-encompassing that I can't reach the back of the shed without standing on stuff, I know it's time to clean it all out.
I uncovered lost garden tools and crushed flowerpots and a bird feeder demolished by squirrels, and a bag of rose fertilizer that had been gnawed open by...something. (I did not uncover baby mice, or even adult mice, thank God.) I threw it all out, except the tools. I wish I'd taken before and after pictures. I organize that shed once a year or so and it's always a monumental undertaking.
Afterwards I took Olga to Fortune Green and the cemetery for another walk. We found someone's polite but firm reminder to use litter bins (middle picture above), as well as this beautiful little primrose growing in the cemetery's butterfly garden area.
Dave arrived back from Amsterdam safe and sound last night, and we caught each other up on our weekend adventures. And guess what was for dinner? Hearts-of-palm salad, with stir-fried shrimp! (Yes, I cooked.) I gotta say, I don't really see the appeal of palm hearts. Not canned ones, anyway. But at least now they're out of the pantry, and the shrimp were good.