You may remember, a few months ago, our burglar alarm being set off by a bat flying around in the dining room in the middle of the night. We never did find out how it had got in, and there were some suggestions that the Sage and I had dreamt the whole episode. Which we hadn’t of course. Absolutely, surely not.
The difficulty with bats is that they are very small and almost impossible to catch, and can make themselves flat enough to hide behind pictures, furniture, any small space at all, that they fly so fast it’s not easy to follow the flight with your eyes and that they have radar.
So, when the Sage came in and asked me to help chivvy a wren out of the kitchen, I did at least think we’d be able to do so.
I think a wren is my favourite bird. They are so sweet, with their little upturned tails. It’s a pleasure to see them hopping around finding little insects in crevices, and they aren’t that easy to spot as they are so small and such a plain brown, so it’s always a treat.
It was hopping along the line of saucepans hanging against the beam against the kitchen wall. We shut the door, but there’s a hatchway into the next room and (because the internet hub is in the hatchway) it is awkward to shut it quickly. So I stood with my arms raised on that side of the room while the Sage opened a window. Then we advanced on the little fellow from two directions, hoping to direct it. Of course, it made a dash over our heads towards the door. Then it flew back – I was very worried it’d land on the hot Aga – and shot out of the open window.
Poor thing had been sleeping in the front porch and followed the Sage in when he went to fetch a log for the fire. I hope it finds its way back, as that’s on the other side of the house from the window it left through.
Anyway, following that small drama, I’m going to read the paper and have an early night. All this full day’s work malarkey is tiring me out.