Country diary: There are blue tits in the box, repeat, blue tits in the box

‘One day, maybe in early June, they’ll be gone.’ Photograph: Arterra Picture Library/Alamy

They have a routine. Swoop into the hazel. Chhrrrrrrrrrr–chidik. Check for danger. Look left, right, left again. Alert, always alert. Up to the feeder. Flick tail, peck food, turn, peck, turn, flick, back to the bush. Whizz, whirr, flurry. Busy birds, blue tits.

But today it changes. From the feeder, not back to the hazel but up to the box on the whitewashed wall near the kitchen. We installed it four years ago. It’s been a monument of neglect ever since. Too near the house, we thought. Apparently not.