Country diary: a scruffy wood pigeon finds peace in the grey morning bustle

Wenlock Edge, Shropshire: Blackbirds arrive, robins flick between hedges and jackdaws vanish into trees, all watched by the unkempt pigeonThe wood pigeon looks dejected: a raggedy young bird, fluffed like a mop, feathers grey as the ditchwater sky, an eye peeping down at a sodden November morning, the peeling gilt of lime leaves scattered in the mud, sunlight drained between rains. The temperature is perishing. It squats on a tree stump surrounded by bent nettles and an acre or so of hammered holes that are the hoof prints of an enormous Highland bull and two half-sized versions of himself. Any ambitions his sons may have of testing themselves against this great creature are dashed by the bull's crushing gaze.The weather's indifference does the same for birds. A single pied wagtail flirts between the bulls as a band of jackdaws clatters into an old ash tree, the bright-eyed insurgents vanishing into holes in its trunk. Down the lane, there are blackbirds mixed up with redwings that may have travelled together from Scandinavia; how do these northern birds get on with the stay-at-homes? Continue reading...