Mice - by Rose Fyleman
I think mice
are rather nice.
Their tails are long,
Their faces small,
They haven't any
Chins at all.
Their ears are pink,
Their teeth are white.
They run around
The house at night.
They nibble things
They shouldn't touch
And no one seems
To like them much.
But I think mice
are nice.
I think mice
are rather nice.
Their tails are long,
Their faces small,
They haven't any
Chins at all.
Their ears are pink,
Their teeth are white.
They run around
The house at night.
They nibble things
They shouldn't touch
And no one seems
To like them much.
But I think mice
are nice.
I agree with Rose Fyleman that mice are nice
though I prefer them out of the house rather than in it.
Yesterday Barry was in the conservatory
photographing birds and making short videos of them. As I watched the on-going
display a movement caught the corner of my eye and there it was – a field
mouse.
We were pleased to see it because rats kill mice and its presence means
that there are probably no rats in the vicinity (they’ve all travelled to London to visit Bethan and Robert)
It moved very quickly – speed is of the
essence when you’re a tiny being, around 18 centimetres long from tip of nose
to end of tail. The hose pipe gives some perspective. We think it was a
Yellow-necked mouse (Apodemus
flavicollis) but cannot be absolutely sure since it didn’t stand on its
hind legs and display its chest. It didn’t stay long for its photo shoot and we
were lucky to see it at all as it is largely nocturnal, the prey of owls and
cats.
Meanwhile the birds carried on feeding,
oblivious to the tiny mammal beneath them dining on the crumbs of fat cast off
by their probing beaks.
Most of the birds wanted to display their nether regions, the newly repainted plumage glowing to attract a mate.
Most of the birds wanted to display their nether regions, the newly repainted plumage glowing to attract a mate.
Some, like this
starling, with his winter spots giving way to the glorious iridescence of spring
finery . . .
. . . appeared to spot the little mouse and wonder what it was up to.
The female blackbird feasted on holly berries
while her would-be mate gorged pyracantha.
Coal tit watched warily from the Nectarine – often chased
away by blue tits, his chance would come.
Long-tailed tits swooped and dipped their
way to the feeders . . .
. . . and a great spotted woodpecker, fresh from the beauty salon,
displayed her scarlet underside but forbore to show her face.
