The blues

The blues, as in, the two blue rock thrushes currently hanging out near the house. I took these shots yesterday around dawn, so the colour may be hard to see, but I believe this is a male and a female blue rock thrush. They were up and about early, hanging out on the roof of the house next door, watching over the area around our house and, no doubt, keeping an eye out for breakfast.

I had another surprise the other day when a hoopoe flew past the house. I’ve only ever seen them up in the hills before, around the area of Micro Sotiris, to be exact, and it was the first time I’ve seen one in the village. It didn’t stop, so I was unable to get a photo for you. The same thing happened with a raven yesterday when one came closer than I’ve seen them before. Again, no photo, but at least I was able to capture the blues.

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Green hills

A couple more balcony shots for you today taken with the long lens. As you can see, the hills are green with herbs and in some places with grass, but in other places, the mountains and Turkey in the distance are as rugged as ever.

I was up in time to see the Blue Star come in this morning. With the Dodekanisos boats now down to only two visits per week, I wonder how long it will be before the Blue Star also cuts down on its journeys. At the moment we’re able to order shopping from the local supermarket, and just about all of what we ask for arrives a couple of hours later. That was something of a highlight yesterday as was my exercise session which lasted all of ten minutes in the porch between the two buildings that make up our house. Must try harder, as my school report always used to say.

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Morning chorus

It’s 5.30 on Tuesday morning and the morning chorus has already begun. The cockerels have no sense of time, only of their own importance, sparking up at all time of day and night to make sure everyone knows they are around. I can hear one now, and it’s still dark. As one goes off, so, usually, another answers from somewhere across the harbour or from over towards the Pedi valley. It’s all very rural, another of the things we love about living on Symi.

Yesterday, the brood was in the ‘hood, or the peep was in parish, you might say, pecking around out front and exploring the ruined garden next door, having a good old chat with a few hens presided over by conclave of cockerels. It was a case of too many chiefs and not enough indians if you ask me. The girls were peacefully getting on with their foraging — it was the boys who kept sounding off every two minutes. Typical.

I never knew a collection of chickens was called a ‘peep’, but apparently so – according to ‘The almighty Guru dot com’ at least. (And also my dictionary, though it is a rarely used word, just the kind of word I like to use.) As for a conclave of cockerels, I made that up.

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