It being oppressively hot here yesterday afternoon, I opened up the conservatory. It was left unattended as I began processing the photos I’d taken earlier.
About an hour later, my missus was shocked to find bloody three-toed footprints all over the windowsills and the old sofa that resides in there. From the dimensions, I’d say it was a sparrow-sized bird (cleaning up was a diplomatic priority, so no photos).
I can only think that one flew in, panicked, and crash-landed on an Old lady cactus (Mammillaria hahniana). The spines of these may be small, but I can attest that they are very sharp.
There’s no sign of the bird now: I shall have to look around tomorrow, to see if one is limping.
An aside:
I was rather concerned about my ‘senior moment’ with a damselfly post yesterday (I woke up, realising it, in the wee small hours). A bit of browsing, and this may be of interest to others - https://www.alzheimers.org.uk/about-dementia/symptoms-and-diagnosis/how-dementia-progresses/is-it-getting-older-or-dementia
Lightening the mood:
Many years ago, I attended a guest lecture by an expert in Neuroscience. In his 70s at the time (as am I), he described himself as ‘between disquiet and panic’. He explained that ‘disquiet’ was when you discover for the first time that you can’t have sex a second time. ‘Panic’ was when you discover for the second time…
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