Blinded by the neighbour’s house.
As we saw in the previous episode of this mysterious saga, the pigeons had left the nest on my balcony, and just a few days later, I finally got my gloves and washing supplies off and started to scrub down the nesty area.
The pigeons hadn’t pooped much on the chair-like object…
… or indeed in the nest area. There was a few downy feathers there, though.
But that sorry state of the nest makes me wonder whether this wasn’t a case of a seagull attacking the nest and gulping down the egg, but rather strong winds and rain sweeping the egg away? It gets really windy here at times; that’s why I have heavy furniture on the balconies. Anything else will just blow away.
So was the egg lying in the roof gutters? Nope. Bits of the nest was, though.
Oh, well. All nice and clean now, and I guess I should inspect it more often to dissuade any further nesting attempts.
Here’s the poor abortive pigeon parent in happier days, just a few weeks ago.
As we saw in the previous episode, some pigeons had laid an egg on my balcony the day before I left for Barcelona. I saw one pigeon sitting on the egg quite happily, too.
But now I’m back, and here’s what’s on the balcony now:
No pigeon! No egg! Some feathers!
What happened? I mean, I’m no ornithologist, but I’m assuming the pigeons can’t have taken the egg with them. Perhaps a… seagull ate it? A crow? Do they do that?
Oh, well. I guess I should clean up the remains of the nest before some new pigeons decide to move in. Gotta get out some gloves and get busy.
For some days now, while I’ve been on the couch, programming, this guy has been sitting pensively on the balcony:
Not really doing anything, other than looking at me once a while:
I didn’t really think much about it, and everything looked normal out on the balcony (which I haven’t used this summer).
But then I looked under the chair:
Oh, well. I guess I won’t be using this balcony the rest of the
summer, either. No animals on the bigger balcony, so far at least.
I’m guessing I’ll have to give it a proper scrub-down once the chicks leave the nest. That’ll only take, what, a couple of months?
Hey, I forgot to mention that last week was my final day at the job I’d been at for… 22? years, but I’ve now assembled a souvenir from the library I put together while I was there:
So I’m no longer a bankster, and I have to figure out what I’m going to do when I grow up.
But first holiday for a year or so? Sounds like a plan. I’m exhausted already just thinking about it; it used to be that I could go to the office to relax, but now everything is suddenly super-busy all day every day.
Yeah yeah humblemoan humblemoan.