My husband and I have just been watching in fascination as a sparrowhawk devoured a plump-chested collared dove right here in our garden this morning. The irony is that we have provided a larder for this raptor just by feeding all the little birds that fly here from nearby woods and fields throughout our English winter. Much as we love the pretty ones, the fragile ones, it's always the starlings - brash and coarse - that get first dibs on anything. And now the big boys are moving in! Can't help drawing parallels with human survival - you've got to fight for every mouthful or you're nothing.