Predator

Some days ago, while snow still lay on the ground, in the Scots pine forestry which we pass through on our almost daily walk down to the village, we found....

....a small pile of predominately grey feathers beside an old, rotten log. I think, without being too sure, that these are the leftovers from a sparrowhawk's meal.

Today, only a few metres beyond where we found the first pile, we found a second, almost identical. Both are close to Doe Corner, where the coniferous forestry ends and our path emerges into a more open landscape of fields and young, deciduous plantings. 

We used to have a sparrowhawk visit the garden not infrequently at our previous house, a very bold bird which had learnt to try to outface an approaching human if it was on a kill. Since being in the new house we've seen one pass through the garden, fast and low, just skimming the tops of the fences.

I love my small birds but I also love the idea that there is a predator at large, there as an integral part of the natural order.