This is how I’ve been getting rudely awoken every morning this month.
By 200 plus ack jacking clattering jackdaws.
Less than a stone throws away from my bedroom window.
Not that I would throw a stone of course.
infuriating dinfully delightful little fluckers.
I suppose you could call it an early daws daw (n) chorus (or cackoffphony)
Vid & Chonic Lack of Sleepfulness: Ian Nisbet
Young jackdaws on the chimney pots across the road from the back garden.
Chattering. Chuntering. Cuddling. Squabbling. Kissing. Flyjoying.
(plus crow causing chimney consternation)
Filming: Haze Brown; Vid: Ian Nisbet
A bit of something ‘nasty’ going on out there tonight.
But it wasn’t bothering the jackdaws at all.
They seemed to be reveling in the rain, playing with/in the wind.
Bird-logic isn’t human-logic, I should know that by now.
And especially so jackdaws. They’re a total law unto themselves.
Vid & Words: Ian Nisbet
Jackdaws are back. Been back a few weeks now.
At least 200. Maybe 300.
Around 40 sit in the silver birch, getting themselves settled for bed.
Not wanting to go to bed too soon.
Waiting. Preening. Sitting and waiting. Cleaning. Chattering.
I was waiting too. For them all to take off, in a big flyover flock off around the town.
But that didn’t happen tonight.
They peeled off the birch in ones and twos.
To rocket into their roost.
The car park behind us is where they sleep.
All 200/300 of them.
Barely a stones throw from my bedroom window.
Not that I would throw a stone at them of course.
(when they wake me up at the crack of dawn)
Vid & Words: Ian Nisbet
Various pairs of jackdaws couple the nearby rooftops.
They frequently fly down to the bird table.
Jackdaws are the lighter members of the dark family of morbid corvids.
They’re comical, companionable, charlies. Make you chuckle.
“They does wot they likes….and they likes wot they do…..”
Illustration: Hazel Brown
Not much thaw going on this winter because not much frost and no snow (not down here in South Devon anyway)
But finally, this week, a couple of mornings with some frost icing the windows.
I’ve posted quite a few films of the rooks/jackdaws that fly into town every night.
This is what they were up to last night. Hundreds of them circling and dancing around, totally appropriating the sky above.
As if showing off. As if not wanting to go to bed.
And then, just as the evening turns dimpsy, they turn in, furiously rocketing into the alders, squawking and squabbling over who gets the best branch to sleep on.
This was one of the best ‘flyjoys’ I’ve witnessed here.
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet