Tits on my Terrace

A couple of years ago a friend gave me this nesting box which I fixed under a corner of the terrace roof. I didn't think it was a 'real' nesting box, but probably 'garden decor' so it was a surprise when a month or so ago a couple of coal tits started checking it out - flew in, flew out again. Perhaps they thought the rent might be too high. Or perhaps it was simply unsuitable - too near humans (I eat at the terrace table) and of course, far too much noise from the dogs. But then they were back, checking it out again - it seemed the accommodation might do. Time passed and I thought they'd changed their minds, until a couple of weeks ago when things got busy. Suddenly Ma and Pa Coal Tit started flying in and out all day long, endlessly feeding their obviously now hatched brood. In their beaks: spiders, grasshoppers and little bits of the fatty balls I hang out for all the birds. And each day the chicks' cries got louder and more demanding.

Yesterday, over breakfast, for the first time, the chicks fluttered up to the tiny entrance and then dropped down again. It seemed it might soon be time for them to fly away.

And so yesterday morning I took my camera out just in case, but the light was too bright on the box, the sun too strong. The camera went back into the house. Over breakfast and deep in conversation with friends who are staying, suddenly, one fledgling appeared, looked around, leaned forward and then launched itself into a new life. Its first flight. As I said, the camera was inside the house... grrrrrrrrrrrrr!

So, from that moment on I waited with the camera - didn't move - and then about an hour later, chick number two appeared - as you see in the photo. It looked around, went back in, looked around again, noticed the sea and the sunshine and then - whoosh - it was off too. Maybe there was a third but I don't think so. Anyway, now the box is empty.

I can't begin to tell you the feeling of privilege one has when birds nest on your terrace. Hope they come back next year. And yes, I'm no bird photographer but at least you see the chick in the first two shots a mere second before it flew for the first time in its life - and Mama Coal Tit in the last one (taken the day before).

For great bird photography, you need to visit Abe Lincoln's brilliant My Birds Blog. Yes, that Abe Lincoln - he's a descendant of the great man and lives in Ohio but hasn't been too well lately. This post is for you, dear Abe. Get well soon.

Death in the Mediterranean

Two weeks ago I was walking on Cap Martin and saw this floating blue mass of dead jellyfish near the rocks (see last two shots). On Sunday, in Menton, the same species were washed up on the beach. (main photo)

Nice-Matin had an article on this phenomenon - apparently quite rare but caused by a combination of winds and the fact that these jellyfish frequent shallow water. In Hyères, which is near to St. Tropez, hundreds of thousands were washed up and covered the beaches - and stank. Click HERE. Interestingly, in Asia this species are on the menu.

They are called Aurelia or Moon Jellyfish. And yes, taking the close up was a smelly moment...

A Sign in Dolceacqua

What's so incongruous about this sign is that it's at a window high up on the left-hand side of this
medieval square in Dolceacqua, just across the Italian border and a little way out of Ventimiglia. Somehow the style of the sign doesn't go with the ancient stones but hey, it gets noticed - so long as you look up.

Being the first of the month, it's Theme Day (Funny Signs) on City Daily Photo so to see how this subject is covered by other bloggers in many cities around the world please click here to view thumbnails for all participants.

Old Boys' Toys

On the weekend, Menton went to town with a nautical festival - high-speed racing boats and a great atmosphere. On the Sablettes beach, enthusiasts of remote-controlled model boats put on a fabulous display. Some of the model boats are worth between 800 and 1500 euros. Interestingly nearly all the participants were somewhat older men.

The Carpet Shaker

We are way up the top of the Old Town of Ventimiglia where many people still do things the old way.

Street Theatre - Wandering into the Action

This enchanting child (and her father) wandered onto centre stage and so became part of the action for a brief moment in time.

Last day at the Street Theatre so let's finish with a girl inside a pile of old tyres. Why not? I think she represents a girl who is drowning.

Thanks so much to everyone who has followed this series.

Street Theatre - Flags

Here are some of the younger performers having great fun on bicycles, bouncing on balls and running around with the Italian and French flags.

Almost done with the kids' Street Theatre. There are loads more photos but it's time to move on. So last day tomorrow or perhaps the day after - and then onwards - so many other things to show you.

Street Theatre - Smiles of a Summer's Day

Faces - ready to go. The girl above is about to put a piece of chewing gum in her mouth. The girl on the left - a cigarette.

The girls below are simply putting on a smile.

Street Theatre - the Girl in Blue

This piece of street theatre is about a girl (the actress in blue) who is teased/bullied/ostracised by the confident girls in the last photo. She falls apart and has a breakdown. The scene above shows her shortly after her arrival at a psychiatric hospital.

Street Theatre - Isolation

This young girl sat on the bollard for well over an hour, sometimes texting, sometimes just staring into space, yet never seeing - always totally isolated from what was going on. Look at the girl on the far left of the top photo - she has noticed her and perhaps her isolation.

'If isolation tempers the strong, it is the stumbling-block of the uncertain.'

~ Paul Cezanne

Street Theatre - the Italian Teacher

Somehow the teachers kept control of their adolescent students.

'No bubble is so iridescent or floats longer than that blown by the successful teacher.'

~ William Osler

Street Theatre - Lipstick

'Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick.'

~ Gwyneth Paltrow

Street Theatre - the Audience

'Always make the audience suffer as much as possible.'
~ Alfred Hitchcock

Street Theatre - the Dying Sea

This is the ending of a piece of theatre about the Mediterranean and about the sailors and fishermen who have died in it. It was in Italian which I don't speak, but we had sea and sirens and death. I think this young girl represents the death of the Mediterranean but then again, I could be completely wrong...

Street Theatre - the Italian Boy

Each year in May around 1000 children and young people descend on Menton to entertain - and make us think - with street theatre - song, dance, mime and drama. They are part of a Franco-Italian organisation from Liguria and the Piedmont in Italy and from the Var and of course from the Alpes-Maritimes - our area. So come with me and enjoy a few days seeing what they got up to.

This young man is Italian and he and his group were really good actors. The first shot was taken whilst he was hanging out with his friends - most were preparing their make-up. The shot below shows him in performance with his group - at this moment they are in a psychiatric hospital.

The Rotten Clementine

Take a Provence bowl with a raised pattern in the base. Place within several Menton clementines. Wait a few days - perhaps a week or so - and when just one is left in the bowl - but be sure to choose the day when you really fancy eating it, when you've no more fruit in the house, then - pick it up and find the lower half has rotted. Voila!

The Blue Bottle

Have you seen white wine in a blue bottle before? This is called Out of the Blue - unusual to see a French wine with an English name. This is a Côte de Provence - shared at La Pergola some weeks ago with the lovely Nathalie from Avignon in Photos.

Les Poupées

One of the best bric-a-brac markets takes place from time to time near to the Stade at the end of the Sablettes beach. This stall had a display of old dolls - poupées in French.

The Bicycle

This is part of the regular Sunday market that sells antiques and bric-a-brac in the Place aux Herbes and in square below.

Perhaps this man should have bought a bigger bike!

High Heels

Photographer, model - and those shoes - at Cap Martin.