Despite appearances, this is still a knitting/crochet/running blog. But following your reactions to the last post, I thought that some of you might want to know that this happened with Robyn-the-robin. Repeatedly:-
She ate from my hand, too, but I didn’t manage to get a picture of that. Sometimes one of the twinnage joins me on the bench waiting quietly for her to arrive, but Robyn is wary of my boys – she stares from the fence as though to say, “Look mate, I’ve got a whole nestful of kids at home, so I really don’t need to be dealing with yours, too.”
Of course she weighs practically nothing. She’s incredibly gentle as she takes each mealworm. I thought I’d feel pecked and scratched but, no – she’s way too careful for that.
She takes the mealworms and feeds her young on the fence behind the shed. It would seem that we’re now friends, and so every time I set foot in the garden, she alerts me to her presence by zooming past my head at high speed. Thank goodness none of my other friends behave like that.
Anyway it’s May, and much as I love knitting and crochet, it’s way too tempting to potter about outdoors instead. The garden and the pond are waking up, and things that I’d feared were dead (plants, family members, the urge to run another marathon) are exuberantly throwing out fresh signs of life. Hurrah!
The twinnage – both of them – seem to have inherited my love of poking about in ponds and streams. Embarrassing confession: at their age, I was making complicated graphs of water temperature by depth and time of day.
The pond is a bit predator-heavy (I’ve never seen so many dragonfly larvae and backswimmers) so I worry about how many tadpoles survived. But the twinnage have been looking after a small number of tadpoles in a tank indoors, and of course those tadpoles matured into froglets, who harboured ambitions of escape, up the sides of the tank:-
The Stoic Spouse started muttering about the risk of a plague of frogs in the house, so we released them (the froglets, not the Stoic Spouse) at the edge of the pond, giving them well-meant advice about not getting eaten that they’ll doubtless ignore because they’re young and adventurous.
And whilst this post may not be directly about knitting, all the colour out there at this time of year is definitely inspiring to those of us who are of a yarny disposition.
But I can’t help but return to the pond. Every time.
It may look peaceful and uneventful on the surface, but stare for more than a moment and you’ll notice that there are hundreds of critters below and they are BUSY. So I stare. A lot. I’m the same when I’m out and about. On a run the other day, I came across a lake.
And whilst at first glance there was not much happening, a closer look revealed swarms of almost-too-tiny-to-see daphnia just beneath the surface. There were so many, I could scoop them up in a handful of water and attempt to photograph them with my phone. Can we just take a moment to congratulate this one on being pregnant with quadruplets? Look!
It’s good to be running properly long-distance again. I love to lollop across the countryside, not knowing where I’ll end up or what wildlife I’ll see.
The temptation to enter another marathon this summer has grown too strong, so I’m building up the miles in preparation.
Anyway, enough of that. There’s knitting to be done. More soon…