Dishevelled

The garden is full of bird activity with parents feeding young blackbirds, jackdaws, starlings and house sparrows.  There are no young robins yet, and the male  expends a lot of energy singing from all parts of his territory.  Here deep in the cover of the giant Rosa moyesii, and in the extra, like a note on a musical stave on the telegraph wires.  His singing was interspersed with bouts of grooming, hence the dishevelled feathery look, a little shake and the feathers will all magically snap neatly back into place.

Back on the allotment, the overnight frost took its toll despite our best efforts to cover everything up.  One of the more experienced allotmenteers, whose spuds looked worse than mine, reassured me that "they will recover - I hope!"  I'm beginning to wonder if we will be eating nothing but garlic and onions later in the  season, there have been more setbacks this year than last despite the greater attention the plot has had.

There are still only two flowers on the fly orchid spike (blipped on 10th May), while one of the other larger plants has already been trodden on and decapitated.