Raptor Action

 There was a bit of an avian drama in the garden this morning. Sensing a kerfuffle, I looked out from my breakfast in time to see a magpie apparently chasing a sparrowhawk away along the line of shrubbery to the left of the garden. Then, maybe five minutes later, the sparrowhawk reappeared as if from nowhere, flew impressively across the lawn and perched, half-hidden, on the fence at the other side. Craning to get a better view, I saw that he (it was a male) was enjoying a meal, tearing with his beak at whatever it was that he was holding down between his claws – presumably a small bird. He was thus engaged for some while, finishing his meal in a more exposed position on top of a high tree stump (the relic of a neighbour dispute that had culminated in the previous occupant of this house – a strange man – cutting down a mature cherry tree, simply to spite the people next door). Here the sparrowhawk demolished his prey so completely that when I went out to look for clues, not a trace remained to be seen. It had probably been a sparrow. 
  After that the garden was eerily quiet for a while, the small birds no doubt lying low in fear of the hawk coming back for seconds. Lichfield, a notably bosky city, seems to be very popular with sparrowhawks: I've seen them many times, on one occasion happening on a female feasting in the middle of the road right in the centre of town.
And now the garden birds have come back to life, and a party of magpies is marching about on the lawn.