It must be one of those times of year when lots of young birds are leaving the nest for the first time.
They don't have the fine flying control of the adults, which is a polite way of saying they don't always seem to know which way they are going.
So we have the sight of a young starling flapping wildly and hanging upside down from the washing line, while a parent sits upright on top of the washing line, with a sort of 'sigh' expression in its shoulders.
Then there are the sparrows which nest each year high up in the eaves, in a hole which was originally where the overflow from the loft water tank stuck out. Each year the little ones are 'encouraged' out by appearing to be shoved off the edge by a parent, while the other parent watches from the nearby hawthorn as the chick does a zooming nosedive, then learns to fly about six feet from the ground.
We assume it was one of these novice flyers which managed to fall in through the tiny light we leave open in the bedroom and was put out again after flapping and squawking around the bedroom yesterday.
This morning we had a young swallow swooped into the bathroom and out again (thank goodness) while I was in the bath.
Then later there was the crash of crockery from the kitchen.
'I hear the spin cycle has kicked in.' I remarked to Graham. The sink drying basket is positioned above the washer and the drying crockery 'settles' when the washer goes into its spin cycle.
'The washer isn't on.....' said Graham.
We both remained silent and hoped that the other would volunteer to go and find out what was going on downstairs (we were up in the spare bedroom, playing WoW). I cracked first: 'Well, are you going to look?' I said to Graham.
It was a young blackbird this time, in the favourite place, the window above the sink. There was much squawking again as it was captured and released back into the garden.
So far though the toads have stayed outside.