First flying lessons didn’t go too well today and this little fellow ended up in my garden. The first I knew about it was the furious flapping and squawking of the parents as they advised my cat to bugger off and leave their baby alone. I shut Pol in the house and gave the birds for a few minutes to sort themselves out.
When all was quiet again, I went out to see whether the fledgling was still on the ground. It was and I spooked the poor thing again, but it need to be up and away before another cat or one of the foxes got it. It flew the length of the garden and landed on the tatty old parasol I use to shade the back door in summer.
The parents and its sibling soon reappeared to yell encouragement and after a few moments it soared off again. Still flying low, but more confidently over half a dozen gardens towards a row of trees. I was much relieved.
The background isn’t very pretty, but I doubt I’ll ever get another chance to photograph such a young jackdaw. I’ve never even seen one before, although the jackdaws have been nesting in the same place for five or six years. It looks heartrendingly vulnerable, doesn’t it?