BLACKBIRD: one-eyed victim takes its chances

WITH its distinctive fluty song and familiar appearance, the blackbird remains one of the most popular birds of town or country.

Males, of course, are the black sex whereas females are brown.

Males also tend to be territorial, especially during the nesting season, and most people will have seen one blackbird ejecting another from their garden at some time.

From its size and shape, it is easy to see that the blackbird actually comes from the same bird family as the thrush.

Even the way a blackbird moves is similar and brown female blackbirds can look a lot like thrushes from behind.

Worms are a staple part of their diet with berries, insects and fruit also taken wherever they are found.

During nesting, up to five bluish-green speckled eggs are laid in a suitable spot, usually halfway up a tree or high in a bush away from predators.

As with black cats, the blackbird's colouring has probably helped to get it mentioned in folklore and nursery rhymes more often than paler bird species.

One of the Beatles' most haunting ballads remains 'Blackbird' ('blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly...'). I've never heard a blackbird singing in the dead of night but they often throw out a note or two at dusk.

In the 17th century, poet Joseph Addison wrote:"I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries and, very frankly, give them fruit for their songs."

I lived on a rather grim estate on the East London/Essex border for a year and was surprised to see several blackbirds there.

Unfortunately, the area was also dominated by aggressive, low-flying crows that terrorised the other birds in the neighbourhood, including blackbirds.

One morning I awoke to a commotion in the back yard and, when I peered out, saw one of these crows attacking something in the corner.

I quickly discovered a young male blackbird, badly injured and with one of its eyes gone.

Myself and my wife took it in and tried to look after it.

For a while, it seemed to rally.

Using its remaining eye, it pecked half-heartedly at some baked potato we offered it.

In the end, though, it grew frantic to get out of the house.

I phoned a wildlife helpline number but, to my frustration, constantly got the engaged tone.

So there was a simple choice to make...put the blackbird out of its misery myself or let it go.

In my time I've knocked a few birds on the head that have been badly mauled by cats.

It is the kindest thing in the end.

So I let the blackbird out into the yard again and looked for a stick. Unfortunately, before I could find one, the blackbird had fluttered away on a crazy one-eyed flight path.

I had no option now but to let Nature take its course.

How long a one-eyed blackbird would have lasted with the crows and stray cats of that awful estate on its trail is anyone's guess.

Not long, I would imagine.

But I often wonder.