“.. a new nest nearly made / Proclaims the winter by.”*

When I’m back in London, I go to various green spaces. One is Brompton Cemetery in Fulham, and this March the birds were nesting. The Ring-necked Parakeets, not native but long-since settled in the UK, had paired off:

and were looking for a suitable nesting hole:

I watched them for some time, as they investigated thoroughly:

but they were not ferrying in either nesting materials, or food.

They hung out in the nearby branches :

preened:

did their nails:

came and went to the hole

and defended it against interlopers:

But I don’t think they ever moved in; I checked out the same tree for several subsequent days and there were no further signs of life.

Meanwhile, there were crows everywhere. These are Carrion Crows, Corvus corone, a different species from the American Crow, very similar but a little larger and stockier.

They are monogamous and mate for life. They build twiggy nests in the crowns of tall trees, and the nest building for these two was well advanced. The scaffolding is done, and the interior upholstery is being delivered:

and put into place:

The following day, I went to another favorite place, the London Wetlands Centre, in Barnes. The coots were also in building mode, creating a low mound of reeds. This is the Eurasian Coot, Fulica atra, distinct from the American Coot.

This nest is higher than most: maybe they are expecting flooding? It looked finished to me, and one bird seemed to be sitting on some eggs, turning them occasionally, but its mate was not yet satisfied, and went off on a mission:

It returned with additional reeds:

which it carefully handed over:

Mission complete:

But apparently more were needed, because he went foraging for a second load, so I videoed his return. (Being adaptable birds, they’re happily nesting right under the flight path into Heathrow, but I’ve left the sound track in because between planes you can hear one calling for a delivery.)

I have carefully referred to neither bird as he/she, because it turns out they share responsibilities for incubating the eggs. I can confirm this because I watched the handover:

‘

And the eggs have a new guardian.

*My title is a line from the poem “Crows in Spring” by the English poet John Clare (1793-1864).