No-one listens. It’s that time of year when baby birds abound and look abandoned. “Leave ‘em where they are or, if in immediate danger, move them nearby,” is the answer to the perennial question of what to do.
So, what did I see at Eastwood today? A woman showed me a fledgling blue tit in her cupped hands. She’d found it “in the road.” Poor mite, condemned to death when it could have had a fighting chance – another victim of humanity’s God-complex.
Futile. Like a request to a dog-owner. Yup, that bad.
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