Every evening we are entertained by this maestro. His sweet tenor voice resounds in the garden until darkness has fallen. He trills his beautiful song long after the other birds have quietened down, occassionaly interrupting his tune to chime a sharp warning 'chink chink' if he senses danger.
By that time, most of our garden birds are roosting in this tall juniper, or in the overgrown privet hedges that surround the top part of the garden, and apart from Mr Blackbird, only quiet chirpings and murmurings can be heard as they settle down after their busy day.
And they are very busy right now - collecting all sorts of bits and pieces for their nests - flying around, diving into hedges and undergrowth all over the place, stopping off now and then for a quick snack. There is a definite air of purposefulness. Our garden is a bit wild and messy, so there are always lots of debris lying around that the birds can use.
Today I gave James a haircut - not too drastic, just a wee trim. What better use for those soft blond curls than to nestle some little baby birds in?