Though it indicates the paucity of my daily life I must confess that one of my small joys is hanging out the washing and then watching it as it dances on the line. Sometimes, of course, it hangs sullenly refusing to dry but even then it attains a wonderful clean smell that no tumble dryer could ever achieve. When I'm in the garden arranging the laundry – socks all marching in the same direction, towels snapped straight and then pegged, shirts and blouses with their sleeves pulled into shape – I relish the fresh air, sometimes by the bucketful, sunshine if I'm lucky and always birds. Yesterday my ear caught the distinctive sound of a distressed Crow. I looked up and saw a Crow chasing a Sparrowhawk. A Sparrowhawk's diet is largely made up of small birds caught on the wing but even a young Crow would be too big for it to catch. Perhaps the Crow was indicating that it had first call on any small birds in the vicinity though I think it's uncommon for Crows to prey on young birds that have left the nest.