Gone - sort of

Another series of frantic squawks and then - silence (for a while). I rushed up to the landing which has the window leading onto the flat roof and there were no birds.

This was the first chance to actually sweep down the roof to try and return it to something acceptable. It was a mass of slimy bitws, bones and moss. As soon as I clambered out and started it was immediately apparent that the parents were still around and being very protective.

This is because both birds are now in the yard behind - where one of them originated anyway. Other chicks have been successfully reared here in the past so hopefully there'll be a happy ending.

... and then there was one ...

It was a hot and sultry night. There was a lot of noise overhead. 3am - whaaaar! whaaaar! whaaaar! Squeak. Thump. Clank.

Then something strange happened. The whaaar was much quieter. More - distant? Then quieter still.

I fell back to sleep and woke slightly later than intended but to virtual silence (obviously there is no such thing as real silence in Brighton). Tom went up to check during breakfast and confirmed only one bird remained. Strangely the one that fell into our yard last night.

We could hear the other one several roofs or yards away wondering what he'd done. As one neighbour commented (it's an incredibly neighbourly place) it must take a lot of courage to launch into the air with full intent for the first time.

This afternoon, in bright sunshine, remaining bird has settled into the bowl of water I put out for him to drink. It must be a nature thing - he's knows that he should be on the water but as yet has not spotted the sea so a ceramic bowl of filtered tap water must suffice. How long will remaining bird stay?