I’m in charge here .....

Our male blackcap on patrol. Brow furrowed, arms (wings) apparently behind his back, puffed out with self importance - every bit the sergeant major. Clearly, he’s not a happy bird; he’s furious that some pesky upstarts have dared to trespass on his territory - the feeding station. 

It’s usually Mrs BC who rules the roost, ‘moodily menopausal’ as a friend describes her. Woe betide any blue tit coming close; they’ll be given short shrift. She tries to chase off robins, chaffinches and sparrows, but has less success here, making her grumpier still. 

Sightings of Mr BC, however, tend to be limited to elegant manoeuvres on the bird feeder, his slender grey body arced to perch and get the tastiest morsels. But he’s reclusive, disappearing into the branches, never posing for a sitting. Until today that is ....

Of course, it’s relatively momentary. I just have time to dash upstairs, grab my camera, change the lens - but sadly not the settings - and focus through the closed bedroom window. And that’s it; one shot and he’s gone. It’s far from perfect, lacking sharpness, his face behind the overhanging twigs. But it makes me smile.