Precision flying

The Swifts have arrived here in Mollans. As a boy growing up in south London in the fifties, I can clearly remember the Swifts (un martinet) careering around the house, screaming as they went. Now they seem much rarer in Britain. Here they are very plentiful; there is something very French sitting outside a café as the sun sets and the Swifts career about, yelling out loud!

Although not likely to be seen on a bird table, the warm nights have stimulated the midwife toad to commence calling. Called the midwife toad as after the female has laid her eggs, the male fertilises them and then carries them around his lower back until they are ready to hatch, when he deposits them in or near water.
Also called the bell toad, which is how one knows he is about, for he makes a beautiful ringing call which carries through the night. It's worth finding its call on the web; for a little toad it's a wonderful sound.

The nights are increasingly noisy, for as well as the bell toad the nightingales are singing away for most of the night. For me it's a wonderful sound, but you meet people who complain that it keeps them awake!

Recently in the garden I have seen examples of the level of control that birds have over flight. Some years ago, I decided to put chain-link fencing right round our garden, which with help from many friends we did (some 330 metres!). Recently, on two occasions whilst walking through the garden, I have startled a bird which made off at high speed towards the fence and at the very last minute folded its wings and went through the space in the chain-link, with very little space to spare, continuing to fly at the other side.

On neither occasion could I make out what the bird was, other than a sbj (small brown job), perhaps a robin? I measured the hole in the chain-link and it measures 5.5 centimetres square.

If I can find out what bird it is, I'll let you know, but it's a very clever piece of flying.