In the garden, I sit on the bench, surrounded by alliums, poppies, buttercups and cranesbills. There are buzzing bees, holly blue butterflies, tadpoles, a squirrel “singing” from the top of the fence. And, finally, there’s a baby great tit in the rowan tree.
I have been waiting for the great tits to fledge for the last few days. They started nest-building in late March, gathering twigs, moss and fluff from my garden and surrounding ones. Then mating and egg-laying commenced, during which time the female usually lays an egg each morning before spending the day with her mate.
With binoculars, I would watch them foraging and bathing together, as if cramming in as many dates as possible before the madness of chick-rearing took over. This went on for a while, and I wondered how many eggs she had laid – and whether I should invest in a nest box camera. Instead, I counted the days between nest-building and the female sitting on eggs, which was obvious as the dates stopped and the male was suddenly alone, carrying grubs and other snacks to the box.
After what felt like an age, there were two great tits again, frantically gathering caterpillars from my hedge and neighbouring trees, taking them to the box to feed increasingly noisy chicks. But how many were there? The number of days between nest building and brooding was 17 – they usually lay around nine eggs; she can’t have laid 17. So I started counting again, from day one of “feeding chicks”, so that I might anticipate fledging, watch the chicks pop out and count them for real.
Reader, I failed – but only by a few minutes. Great tits feed their chicks for between 16 and 22 days, and as I make breakfast on day 18, I suddenly hear the parents noisily urging their chicks to leave the nest. Alas, most of the chicks have gone already and, as I retrieve my binoculars, the last one fledges into the rowan tree while its siblings and parents disappear into neighbouring gardens.
I watch it through binoculars, marvelling at its fluffy, lemon-washed feathers, its clumsy flight, its timidity. It has siblings, but who knows how many or where they are? Still, it’s a good day: it’s Baby Great Tit Day.
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One Garden Against the World by Kate Bradbury (Bloomsbury Publishing PLC, £18.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
