Paranoid Parenting, Nightingale Style

There comes a time in the life of every couple, when their youngster is ready to fly the nest. Here is Mrs Nightingale. She used to be a sweet singer, but is now reduced to nervous trilling at dogs, cats and humans who come near.

Voila her husband, Mr Rossignol. His elegant acrobatics as he caught flies around our garden entertained us earlier in the year, and his song charmed our sleep for weeks. Now he sits on the roof and 'twit, twit, twits' in harmony with his wife.

Here is the object of their paranoia. Blurry - mum and dad won't let me come close!

And a shot of him/her on Ben's makeshift electricity cable too.
Mum has proved more photogenic. As she scooted round the garden yesterday evening watching the progress of her offspring in alarming proximity to the cat and the dog, she landed on Son 2's shutters. Twit, twit, twit!And then she showed a bit of her husband's acrobatic ability by holding on briefly to the wall before taking off again. I think this was when her sproglet was on the electricity wire...For a long time they were both together, on the fence which screens our pool from the road. It would have been a delight if they hadn't been so clearly traumatised by this parenting teenagers business. (Dad is on the right - his red tail and underbelly are well disguised by our dead Leylandii).Finally, here are mother and baby, currently doing well...If you want to hear what they sound like before it all gets too much for them, you'll find a Youtube video in my post below!

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