Young birds really have perfected the ‘poor me, I’m starving, feed me’ routine!

This fledgling Song thrush was sitting on a path alongside a wildflower meadow I visited today. It had its head tilted to keep an eye on the sky and was uttering the most pathetic-sounding peeps. I immediately felt sorry for it, thought it might have lost its parents, be injured, be unable to fly.

But no, as soon as I got within a few feet of it, it was up and off at a rate of knots to the nearest tree. I didn’t see its parents – maybe they’d become immune to its pleas and knew very well it was old enough to fend for itself.