I’ve put some bird feeders up outside the kitchen window so that I can look out on them whilst cooking and washing up. They are very busy with blue tits, great tits, coal tits, and sparrows; with blackbirds and dunnocks foraging underneath to pick up the bits that come showering down from above.

There’s a big ginger Tom cat from the neighbouring farm who does a dawn patrol along the lane and pops in to check what’s happening on my bird feeders. So I have to give a sharp tap on the window to send him on his way before he gets any ideas about having a small bird for breakfast.

A shooting estate is not far away and pheasants come down from the fell side into the meadows around the village. One morning there was a big cock pheasant and half a dozen hens around the feeders, and fluttering up on the one with seed in it. No wonder so much gets eaten! Having fed them I hope they stay down in the valley where it’s a bit safer than up on the slopes. Shooting season isn’t until October so they might nest nearby.

My favourite birds that come to the feeders are, I think, rather special. There’s a great spotted woodpecker, with a bright red patch under the tail, who’s a regular visitor; and best of all, a nuthatch who feeds upside down. From time to time there are also gold finches and green finches; and I caught a glimpse of a bird with a yellow throat and black bib that I have no idea about at all.

I know they are ‘wild things’ as the poet Wendell Berry would call them, though they are not quite as peaceful as the wild things in his poem (“I come into the peace of wild things”), especially the sparrows, but I do feel a certain responsibility for them and keeping the feeders topped up. If for some reason the feeders run out then the birds fly down, look forlorn and fly away again, which galvanises me to go out and fill them up.

One of the days when the feeders ran low was when I was away being adventurous by taking the Settle-Carlisle train to Leeds for the first time. For those of you who are train buffs then you’ll know that this line has been called one of the "World's Great Train Journeys". It goes through some stunning countryside and over the famous Ribblehead viaduct. I had a business meeting in Leeds so caught the first train from Garsdale on a sunny frosty morning just as it was getting light.

The station at Garsdale has been restored to how it would have been in the 1970s, or earlier as I suppose it hasn’t changed much from decades before that. One of the special things about the station is the bronze statute of a dog called Ruswarp – pronounced Russup – who faithfully stayed for 11 weeks with the body his human companion Graham Nuttall who had died whilst walking on the winter fells. I’ve put a link to the story below in case you’re interested.

Seeing Ruswarp’s statute made me thank about loyalty. There are times in the past when I’ve felt very let down by people close to me who I would have hoped would have been loyal – my ex-spouse for example – and this has engendered a general wariness and lack of trust. But other people have been very loyal – like my friend in London. We might have our ups and downs, but I know if push came to shove they would be there for me and I for them.

Do you have any particularly loyal friends (of all sorts include the feathered and furry kind)? Or have experiences when your loyalty and trust has been tested?

Rowan on the Moor

A Moodscope member

Here's a link to the story of Ruswarp:

https://www.foscl.org.uk/content/statue-ruswarp-memory-graham-nuttall