When I was at school donkey’s years ago, one of the few lessons that I enjoyed was Nature Study. My parents helped nurture this interest on the walks to the park and if I was lucky, now and again a 3p ride on the number 4 bus up to High Salvington, or otherwise Cissbury Ring or Chanctonbury Ring, on the South Downs.
We live in middle of town in Worthing, close to the hospital but we would make the annual pilgrimage to see the Bluebells, Daffodils and Primroses etc.
Sometimes when both my parents were out at work, I would go to one of Worthing’s pretty parks and wander round on my own.
There was a gap between the end of the school day at 4pm and either parent getting home from work at around 5.30pm.
In summer I passed some of my time gazing at the flowers or doing cartwheels and handstands on the grass in a park.
In winter I would go home and let myself in with the key that hung around my neck.
Nobody thought anything of kids being left alone in those days.
Actually, my big (five years older) brother, was supposed to look after me, but rarely did, though he might sometimes be in the same park but playing football.
Neither of us let on to our parents and I was always happy off in my little dream world anyway and never bored.
We were both home and looking innocent when our parents got home from work on their bikes.
I still love birds and flowers, the sea, the downs and the woods.
These days, I have a bird feeding table and hanging feeders in my little garden and a while back I took pity on a sea gull that Steve and I christened Wendy-Wonky-Wing, because of the once broken wing that she can still fly with.
I have mentioned before that she first appeared begging for food with her quite horrible squawking baby that is a big as her.
I fed her at little cost, since I would throw her a sandwich filled with my cat food that, Miss Birdy’s had left and wasted.
She won’t eat anything that has been left out for a while.
I know, spoilt rotten.
Anyway I would pour some milk over the sandwich, and throw it on the garage roof for Wendy.
I had been doing that for a number of weeks, before one evening, when I was drying up the washing up, (No I don’t have a washing up machine, never seen the sense to it), when I nearly jumped out of me skin to see my next door neighbour’s head and hands at the top of our six foot high garden wall beside my door.
After the initial surprise, I went to the kitchen door and asked if he was looking for his little boys ball or some other lost toy.
“No” he said, “It just that I have had to take the car to be cleaned because of the seagulls who have messed all over it because you are feeding them”.
Not wishing to argue about it, I remained calm because this pair are always complaining about something.
To make him stop moaning I told him that I would not feed the poor crippled mother seagull any more, and that I am not wild about seagulls myself anyway but just felt sorry for it.
However, my thought was, that Littlehampton is a seaside resort and we live less than two miles from the shore as the crow flies.
Wendy Wonky Wing is not the only seagull close to us, and there are hundreds of them on the many chimney pots in our area.
I feel really mean not feeding her any more, but I cannot do with bad feelings over things that are very simply solved.
Wendy is still hanging around, but I am not feeding her or her noisy brat. Sad as it makes me feel.
There are still lots of other small, smaller, smallest birds that visit my bird table.
Wendy though cannot get into our tiny little garden she is too big and too awkward.
I wish I lived in the countryside but I don’t.
Big birds and little birds
wild flowers and trees,
sea views at the high points
butterfly’s and bees.
Try and be kind, it so much nicer.
When I was at school donkey’s years ago, one of the few lessons that I enjoyed was Nature Study. My parents helped nurture this interest on the walks to the park and if I was lucky, now and again a 3p ride on the number 4 bus up to High Salvington, or otherwise Cissbury Ring or Chanctonbury Ring, on the South Downs.
We live in middle of town in Worthing, close to the hospital but we would make the annual pilgrimage to see the Bluebells, Daffodils and Primroses etc.
Sometimes when both my parents were out at work, I would go to one of Worthing’s pretty parks and wander round on my own.
There was a gap between the end of the school day at 4pm and either parent getting home from works at around 5.30pm.
In summer I passed some of my time gazing at the flowers or doing cartwheels and handstands on the grass in a park.
In winter I would go home and let myself in with the key that hung around my neck.
Nobody thought anything of kids being left alone in those days.
Actually, my big (five years older) brother, was supposed to look after me, but rarely did, though he might sometimes be in the same park but playing football.
Neither of us let on to our parents and I was always happy off in my little dream world anyway and never bored.
We were both home and looking innocent when our parents got home from work on their bikes.
I still love birds and flowers, the sea, the downs and the woods.
These days, I have a bird feeding table and hanging feeders in my little garden and a while back I took pity on a sea gull that Steve and I christened Wendy-Wonky-Wing, because of the once broken wing that she can still fly with.
I have mentioned before that she first appeared begging for food with her quite horrible squawking baby that is a big as her.
I fed her at little cost, since I would throw her a sandwich filled with my cat food that, Miss Birdy’s had left and wasted.
She won’t eat anything that has been left out for a while.
I know, spoilt rotten.
Anyway I would pour some milk over the sandwich, and throw it on the garage roof for Wendy.
I had been doing that for a number of weeks, before one evening, when I was drying up the washing up, (No I don’t have a washing up machine, never seen the sense to it), when I nearly jumped out of me skin to see my next door neighbour’s head and hands at the top of our six foot high garden wall beside my door.
After the initial surprise, I went to the kitchen door and asked if he was looking for his little boys ball or some other lost toy.
“No” he said, “It just that I have had to take the car to be cleaned because of the seagulls who have messed all over it because you are feeding them”.
Not wishing to argue about it, I remained calm because this pair are always complaining about something.
To make him stop moaning I told him that I would not feed the poor crippled mother seagull any more, and that I am not wild about seagulls myself anyway but just felt sorry for it.
However, my thought was, that Littlehampton is a seaside resort and we live less than two miles from the shore as the crow flies.
Wendy Wonky Wing is not the only seagull close to us, and there are hundreds of them on the many chimney pots in our area.
I feel really mean not feeding her any more, but I cannot do with bad feelings over things that are very simply solved.
Wendy is still hanging around, but I am not feeding her or her noisy brat. Sad as it makes me feel.
There are still lots of other small, smaller, smallest birds that visit my bird table.
Wendy though cannot get into our tiny little garden she is too big and too awkward.
I wish I lived in the countryside but I don’t.
Big birds and little birds
wild flowers and trees,
sea views at the high points
butterfly’s and bees.
Try and be kind, it's so much nicer.
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