If you’ve been reading for a while, you might have seen my post entitled “A few of my favourite things”, in which I described how I love sitting outside in my garden watching the birds. While I try not to discriminate against any specific feathered creature, there is one bird in particular that I love more than the others. That bird is the Crested Barbet.
Shortly after moving into the house, I put up a nesting log in the hope to attract them to the garden. Five short years later, a mating pair arrived and we were lucky to have a baby on the first try in their new home. This is the second year we have witnessed a successful hatching. My run-in with the affectionately named “Barb” was shortly after they had laid their single egg.
We’d had heavy downpours for an entire weekend which resulted in branches from the neighbours’ tree hanging quite low over our wall. Heading out to cut them down, I was greeted with a particularly unhappy-sounding “kekekekeke”. Barb was hopping from branch to branch with a look of pure anger in his eyes. I quickly realised my faux pas, apologised profusely (as you would, in these situations) and went back inside the house.
Unfortunately since then, Barb seems to have it in for me. I’m greeted in a particularly unhappy way when I walk outside – even when when it’s to load the bird table with their dinner.
Things took a turn for the bizarre earlier this week. I was at home alone working on some writing when I heard a noise which sounded like someone tapping on the bathroom window, so I went to investigate.
While I am pretty sure he was potentially trying to eat insects caught in a spider web along the edge of the window, the fact that his head popped up through the open window several times, I can’t help but wonder if he didn’t have a more sinister agenda.
“Hey!” I said. “Stop that!” (Because that’s apparently what you say to a bird that seems to be trying to break into your house…).
He obliged somewhat begrudging.
Things got even weirder
The following evening I was working in the study again when I heard Barbs usual “kekekekekekeke” right outside the window. There he was, watching me… What the hell!
I guess I consider myself warned? Can’t wait to do it all again next year!
*All pictures of “the incident” were taken with my sub-par phone camera. Apologies for the poor quality.