Columba Palumbus

For the last couple of months we have had the rare privilege of watching wood pigeons raise a brood. They chose a nest site in next door's bramble-covered tree. It was safe from cats climbing up. It was safe on three sides through thick vegetation. Also from above.

What the pair didn't know is that the solid wall providing protection on the fourth side but allowing access was not that but our utility room window. We rarely have a light on in there in the summer and it is one of the least used rooms in the house. Morning and evening laundry duties, where we keep the cleaning products, a second sink for dirty vegetables and the compost bins - er that's it.

But every time we have popped in there we have checked up on how the brood is going.

We have always got two or more wood pigeons in and around our garden and have watched them a lot. They are funny. Apart from eating, a breeding pair will spend all their time thinking (male) about sex or suggesting now is not the time (female). They have three bonks a year which gives three broods in roughly April, June and August. Each time a fresh nest is constructed.

In June we noticed one wood pigeon, we assume the female, sitting in the same place in the bush where the nest now is. You've probably seen these birds wandering around comically with twigs in their mouths during the summer. The nest-building methodology is simple. One birds sits where the nest will be and the other turns up with a variety of sticks which are thrust under the sitting bird until a platform is made.

Once the platform is sufficiently knitted together two eggs are laid (so the bird books tell me, I never saw them). From then on, for two to three weeks (again, so the books tell me) the couple take it in turns to brood the eggs while the other goes off to eat. Unless you see the actual moment of swapping over, which we didn't, you will not know which bird is brooding because male and female wood pigeon are identical. We suspect that the female stayed put for longer but that is based on what we know about the animal kingdom and maleness, not observation.

After a while we thought we saw movement but the chicks are kept under the parent's body for a long time after hatching. Then we saw a chick. Then we saw two.

We observed the rather disgusting habit of crop-feeding where regurgitated food is made available to a chick with its head half way down the parent's throat. This is, apparently, a very rich crop-milk that enables the chicks to put on weight quickly. When not feeding the chicks are nagging in the same way a small child always wants a biscuit. Again appearances can be deceptive but it felt that the chick nearest the adult bird got most of the food. That said the two chicks are now out of the nest and both look a similar size.

Towards the end of the time in the nest there was barely room for the two chicks side by side and when an adult bird turned up it had to perch nearby and lean in. Eventually the chicks wandered bravely along a branch and back. Then they reached the nearest bit of fence where they perched for a couple of days, preening and awaiting food which came less and less often. They they started appearing in different bits of the garden. If we get too close we scare the adults but the chicks don't know to be scared.  They also hopped from fence panel to fence panel and back, never further than another ten feet away, but did not fly in any obvious way.

I'd say they are now three-quarters of the size of an adult bird and are developing that lovely grey/pink plumage. They do not yet have the bluey green and white distinctive neck marking.

The two birds, perching side by side about ten feet from my gaze here in the conservatory are very patient (so it seems) and are not scared back into the nest. I have now seen them fly up on to the roof of a nearby house but they are content in and around our garden. We have cat scarers and the birds are usually out of sight of any passing sparrow hawk.

It has been a treat to watch this bit of development in the bird  world. I've often known wood pigeon were nesting in the garden because of the brooding noises but I've never been able to see the action close up. I'm not really interested in the effort required to make technology work but a time-lapse camera would have been an amazing thing.

The Church of England Pensions Board Property Department, if reading this, might note that the chicks, in the final photograph, are perched on the fence panel that has been broken for three years. Of course that is not the reason for this entire post.

Thought for the Day

You might wish to check today's script against delivery because the story developed during the show so that even the corrections I scribbled on my script at 8.42 a.m. were rendered out of date by an interview immediately before delivery, leaving me ad-libbing to get more accuracy. BBC Radio Bristol keeps me on my toes from time to time:

A small, low carbon home, for one person is being built in Hillfields. They're called 'snug' homes. You can fit 190 of them onto a football pitch, yet they meet the UK's minimum housing standards.

Lizzie, a friend of mine, is an architect. She has developed a design for quickly manufactured shelters for victims of natural disasters. Over the years the quality of such emergency shelter has become surprisingly good. They are hardly luxurious, but the choice between a flat-pack home and living in the packaging is not a difficult one.

Lizzie is a Christian. It is her Christian conscience that pushed her in this direction.

Yet a glance at the teaching of the founder of Christianity is arresting.

Jesus was notoriously depressing about housing, saying, 'Foxes have holes and birds have nests but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head.' He was downbeat about possessions, pointing to heaven as a place of treasure. He sent his disciples out two by two with no spare clothes or cash and told them to beg accommodation and food.

Whether the decision to live in a small home is a lifestyle choice or a necessity, for Jesus the mission is more important. To walk with him there was no time to be looking back. He likened the journey of the disciple to 'taking up your cross'. In those days, if you took up a cross, you weren't coming back.

I have a nice home; a place of security and comfort, a safe base from which to do my work. It does me good to remember those who sleep in packaging, whose homes can blow away. Take a moment to give thanks for the roof under which you sit and, perhaps, to pray for those who wish they had one.

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol just now:

Some years back my wife, Liz, was helping a customer apply for interest-free credit.

'Sorry', said the lady looking at the housing options section, '...there isn't a space here for my accommodation.'

So, 'Where do you live?' Liz asked.

'In a castle' the customer said.

Liz ticked the box marked 'other' much to the annoyance of the woman, who clearly wanted to put castle on the form somewhere.

As one of the clergy of the Diocese of Bath and Wells I occasionally get to drive into Wells Palace, across the drawbridge, and park in the grounds. Feels good.

Last March, hiring a large manor house for family and friends to celebrate a key birthday, of course we took a picture of us standing in the doorway. Who wouldn't?

I'm an Englishman and I sometimes wish a castle was my home.

I'm also a Christian vicar, a follower of the teaching of Jesus, a nomadic preacher from 2,000 years ago who relied on the hospitality and welcome of others. So, as I get to live in a bigger house than I could afford, I feel a moral duty to welcome others in - and I try to.

I'm not great at economics, but this I know. Rare things are expensive. Scarcity raises the price. Cheap diamonds sound dodgy.

So if we have a home, our castle, we shouldn't pull up the drawbridge and pour oil on the heads of visitors. Or deny ownership to others.

People have a fundamental human right to shelter. But this isn't the first time my thought for the day has ended up asking what happens when shelter is too expensive for more than a few.

Apparently even people who own castles need credit these days.

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol this morning, after successfully negotiating their heightened security procedures. Which did not extend to ensuring I did not steal my security pass. Mwahahahaha!

There was once a man who had two sons. Me actually.

Recently one of our sons moved back into our home on a temporary basis. We discovered that his definition of temporary was (beat) over two years.

With some trepidation we recently agreed to accommodate our other son and his partner, again on a temporary basis, while they recovered from several years of the cash-draining impact of starting their careers in London. Paying £1300 a month for a one bedroom flat last year.

They got new jobs in Bristol and now live back in the cheaper accommodation of Trendlewood Vicarage. We're getting on OK. Thanks for asking.

Hopefully this story of bounce-back kids will end with them having a deposit for their own place.

The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which I don't imagine many BBC Radio Bristol listeners have had as their pre-breakfast reading today, is quite wordy. Even the plain-language version demanded of me a lot of concentration. Articles 17 and 25 say that all human beings have the right to own property and to have somewhere safe to live. What becomes of a 'right' if to achieve it is beyond most people's finances?

In one of Jesus' parables there was another man who had two sons. And one asked for his share of the inheritance. You may know what happened next but if you don't Luke chapter 15 in the Bible has the story. It's a good one.

It may be that my sons' generation, unless blessed with well paid jobs or family-backing, will be struggling to afford to own property short of inheriting it, or even renting it in big cities.

Is that right? And if it isn't; what should be done?

Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol this morning, a day when they were discussing a joint meeting of four local councils to consider future housing needs in the area:

The Canadian author Douglas Coupland said:

'When someone tells you they've just bought a house, they might as well tell you they no longer have a personality. You can immediately assume so many things: that they're locked into jobs they hate; that they're broke; that they spend every night watching videos; that they're fifteen pounds overweight, that they no longer listen to new ideas.'

It's amazing, with publicity like that, anyone would want to settle. But we need somewhere to live.

I grew up in a house my parents inherited from my grandfather, a man I never met. He went to prison for business fraud. I was in my mid-forties before I realised I may have benefited from the proceeds of crime. My Dad had never spoken of it.

Jesus, equally down on homes, is reported as saying, 'Foxes have holes and birds have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.' Emphasising that the lot of a travelling preacher is much more about faith in God for food and shelter than about home-owning. Not living the dream but certainly living the message. And he knew - people are more suspicious of travellers than settlers.

Where should we put new homes? I don't know but I'm glad it's being discussed. I was fortunate growing up and feel for those who want a place of their own.

The Bible speaks of welcome, hospitality to the stranger and inclusivity as key Christian values. I commend everyone to drop any knee-jerk opposition to newcomers. Nimbyism is selfish and, just maybe, a sign that Coupland was right. If once we've settled down we become reluctant to invite new people, with new ideas to join us - we shouldn't.