DURING coffee, lunch or tea breaks in the few days before settling down to compile this week’s diary, my wife and I became enchanted by our garden birds as they went about the annual chore of building nests.

From our conservatory we have a panoramic view and it seems many species of garden birds – and indeed others – have become quite accustomed to the proximity of the house and our domestic routine.

Blue tits were very busy, for example, and they have adapted to our presence because they have been making good use of our feeders.

Some years ago I placed a couple of blue tit-sized nest boxes on the north wall of our garage (that site is to prevent the chicks getting baked in sunshine from the south and west) but only one box has ever been colonised.

Every year, a pair of blue tits have made their home in that particular one, clearing out the debris from the previous year and rattling their beaks upon the woodwork to dislodge any unwanted mites that may be present.

There are times I have cleaned out the boxes, but they seem to prefer to do the job themselves and, of course, I have no means of locating tiny mites that might be lurking there. I am sure an insecticide would not be a good idea in such a confined space even though, I am told, birds have no sense of smell.

No doubt the house-proud blue tits are of the persuasion that if you want a job doing well, it is wise to do it yourself. Each year, therefore, we’ve shared the delights of them feeding their chicks and watching the youngsters learn to fly around our garden.

But for some unknown reason, no blue tits have made use of the second box that is only a few feet away.

I wondered if it was something to do with their territorial boundaries.

This year, however, a pair of blue tits arrived while we were sitting in the garden only a few yards from the boxes and they began to examine each of them. I do not know which was the female or the male, but the birds took turns in inspecting both the exteriors and interiors, just like a young couple of humans considering a new home.

We could only guess at the reasons for making a decision, whether affirmative or negative. Certainly the size of the entrance hole is vital because it permits only blue tits to enter – great tits and house sparrows, for example, would dearly love to use the boxes as nesting sites but the small size of the hole keeps out any squatters. It also keeps out predators.

Another matter to consider is that blue tits don’t like their nest boxes hidden beneath a canopy of flowers or foliage; they prefer the entrance to be easily seen so that predators are unable to lurk nearby.

For this reason many of the successful boxes are openly on view in lofty places upon tree trunks, telegraph poles or buildings and not concealed among vegetation. As I write these notes, therefore, we are wondering whether we shall soon have another family of delightful blue tits in our garden.

Perhaps the most comical of our visitors was a huge crow that decided to collect some sticks for nest building. It is impossible to say whether it was male or female, but in any case both take part in nest building. It selected the silver birch trees overlooking our garden and promptly set about breaking off some desired twigs. Over a nice lunch outside we watched its antics at fairly close quarters.

Most of us know that fresh green twigs are not easy to break which might explain why many nestbuilders hunt for suitable sticks on the ground, but not this character. It was determined to wrench a long thin twig from the tree; it took ages with the bird pulling and twisting but then when the twig broke free, it fell to the ground.

I thought the crow would have gone down to retrieve it, but it didn’t.

It set about breaking off another long floppy twig and then flew off with it, returning minutes later for another and then several more. It goes without saying, that we were well entertained that lunchtime.

Then over tea in the conservatory, we spotted a male house sparrow wrestling with something in the rambler roses only a yard or so from one of our windows. He was tugging and flapping and making an almighty fuss about something he was trying to drag from deep among the thorns.

I thought it must be some kind of insect but it wasn’t – it was a small fluffy white feather that he bore off in triumph to his nesting site beneath one of our tiles. If house sparrows decide to build in bushes, they will construct beautiful domed nests of straw and feathers, but otherwise they are untidy.

Our blackbirds never seem to get things right at the start. I’ve known them build nests in some of the daftest places, only for their contents to be attacked by cats, rats or other predators, but they never give up. If a nest is destroyed or the eggs and chicks stolen, the female blackbird will set about building another, often perilously close to the ground.

The male will help to feed the youngsters – and that is another wonderful sight for us as they nag at him on our front lawn, wanting lots of worms.

I have often been asked how to attract birds to the garden and the answer is to provide feeders with seeds and nuts, a supply of fresh water for bathing or drinking and easily accessible bushes and shrubs for shelter.

The feeders and bird bath must be safe from predators whether they are little furry things that run around like cats, rats and grey squirrels or large birds like crows, magpies and other birds of prey that can attack smaller species and their chicks.

TODAY is Chaff Riddling Night, Church Watching Eve or the Eve of St Mark, and in the North Riding of Yorkshire it used to be the day to visit the parish church and keep watch during the evening.

The watcher had to settle in the porch and it was believed that, at midnight, the spectral figures of all those who would die during the coming year would pass by. There are several accounts of watchers – including a James Haw, of Burneston near Bedale – catching sight of themselves in that ghostly procession.

Similary, some people went chaff riddling on this eve. The venue was a barn and they had to sit near the door and riddle chaff, believing that at midnight the spectres of all those who were to die in the coming year would pass by.

There are similar tales of such events taking place at crossroads, but once you started this practice, you had to maintain it for all your life – inevitably catching sight of your own spectre.

ON the topic of nesting birds, my local National Park has issued a reminder that from March until July, many moorland birds will be nesting on the ground.

For a few weeks they will be highly vulnerable to disturbance by ramblers and people with dogs. If a nesting bird is disturbed it could means its eggs or chicks become too cold to survive, or that they are permanently abandoned.

Although ramblers have open access upon much of our moorland through the Right to Roam legislation, there are restrictions for people with dogs.

They should stay on public rights of way and the dogs should be kept on leads of less than 6½ft in length and the advice is that if a dog-walker inadvertently frightens a bird from its nest, they should quickly leave the area to allow the bird to return.

There is no doubt many of our moorland birds are declining and so everyone making use of the freedom now available should act with due consideration to the beautiful natural world around them.