After a couple of days of silence, I heard Mr Blackbird in full song early this morning advertising for a new mate; his period of mourning was obviously now served. Sure enough, by breakfast time there was a new resident in the garden, and she had not one, but two somewhat droopy wings, so I suspect it is one of his former mates offspring. Also, looking more closely at him, he also has a droopy wing and a small white patch under the chin so that he is probably also one of her offspring. I'm not very good at relationships, but I think that means we probably have a case of incest in the garden!
Who needs to go to the cinema.
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