Same old story for sociable heron

YESTERDAY, I saw a heron fly overhead with a twig in its beak.

It was, no doubt, heading for a heronry; when nesting, they are sociable birds Year after year the same nests are used, the old lining thrown out, a new one added, new twigs replace the old and the whole massive structure is spruced up and restored. After years of addition and reinforcement the nests are so large, one could almost sleep the night in one. While they usually nest in tall trees, they sometimes also use bushes. I can’t but think that there is some old story about a king or a bard on the run finding refuge in a heron’s nest. Charles II of England, obviously an agile king, spent a day hiding in an oak tree when pursued by Roundheads.

The cliff-dwelling ravens which I watch every year had chicks in the nest on March 18. Ravens, too, refurbish the old structure annually, and comfortable it looks, with a deep cup, lined with horse hair. First, they were tumbling, nose-diving and even flying upside down in courtship display over the sea. Almost certainly the same pair as last year – they mate for life – they were, so to speak, renewing their ‘marriage vows’. The nest re-building followed. Then, in early March, there were pale blue eggs; now, there are bald chicks, squirming pinkly in the cup. As walkers pass, the female rises from the nest and both parents stand guard on fence posts above the cliff, resplendent in their glossy, black spring feathers. With raucous croaks, they berate passers-by invading their privacy, raising their crown and throat feathers as they scold.