AFTER the mad preparations for the breeding season, the first eggs, my first youngsters, the fledglings and finally the moult, this year has flown by. As I write, it is the middle of September and things are finally slowing down, with the birds quiet in their cages.
Having more birds this year compared to last – my introductory year – I have been surprised by the irregular nature of the birds’ moult. I don't know why, but I'd naively assumed all the birds would essentially drop their feathers within a few days of each other in some sort of synchronised event. (Yet thinking about nature's other cycles: if that were the case wouldn't
