If you read my last bloggery at the weekend, you might be wondering what happened to the little Woodpigeon who was attacked by an adult Woodie and seemed to react so little to everything going on around him.
Well, to update you, the little chap was sitting in the middle of the lawn later that evening at about 9pm, out in the open where any predator could grab him. Suddenly the big grey tomcat from a few doors away appeared at the far end of the garden and began to fixate on him and home in step by step. It lunged at the little pigeon and seemed to jump over him as the hapless squab flapped its wings but did not seem hurt or much bothered.
The cat saw me in the conservatory and made no further attempts on the baby pigeon's life, as far as I could observe. Eventually the cat moved off the way it had come, stalking round the pigeon without giving it a second glance. The pigeon continued to sit huddled in the same position before shuffling off just before 10pm into the undergrowth (euphemism for the parts where my garden is rather beyond my strength and finances at the moment to keep weed-free!). At least he would be sheltered there, I hoped. But I haven't seen him since, and I suspect he may have succumbed to some other predator since his miraculous delivery from pouncing puss.
I hope you had a gentle end or a blessed deliverance, little one.
I sat on until the light had completely dwindled to dusk, hearing the sounds of the approaching night and watching a hedgehog exploring and having a drink of the water I put out for the birds and creatures on the pebbles under my lilac bush.
So the longest day has come and gone. Bless the Lord who creates and sustains such a fragile, fantastic kingdom, and entrusts it to our hearts to protect and enjoy.