Tuesday, July 16, 2002


It is a dreary, murky, wet day in Edinburgh, and I am sat in a portacabin office which is either too hot or too cold, but never just right.

Outside my window is a leylandii hedge in which a pair of sparrows have made a nest and are raising a brood. This is nice because I see the birds bringing back food for the young. The male is having a hard time of the parenthood thing because it appears that he is genuinely hen pecked. Everytime he comes back to the nest he perches on a large piece of stone that is right by the side of the path and just under the hedge, at which point Mrs Sparrow appears, and boy does she give him hell. She chirps, tweets and harrasses him until he has delivered the offering to the nest, and continues the onslaught, chasing him away from the hedge after the young have been fed their morsel.

It gives a whole new meaning to noisy neighbours.