Mrs Down's Diary

The ducks are in the big shed and the blue tit, bless him, is in the nest box. But not always. Two nights he has not been home. Where has he gone?

John and I are like parents with a teenager again who has not come in when you are expecting them to.

I understand that blue tits build several nests for their mates (or prospective mate when one chooses him) and that he takes her round them like a pushy estate agent.

The nest was originally investigated by a sparrow but he abandoned any attempt to live there when the blue tit took over.

The camera, linked to our TV, is fantastic. It is compulsive viewing, especially the nights that the blue tit slept over.

He is certainly not a peaceful sleeper. Every few minutes he has a whizz round in the nest, reorganises the feathers, pulls a bit of straw over himself, tucks his head under his wing, preens a few feathers.

For full feature see West Sussex Gazette June 4