Something about this bird's nest, built amongst pleached limes, reminds me of my mother. Perching improbably in a manicured spot, within the inner sanctum of a formal garden, everything could go wrong, so easily. But it's all rather grand, so what does it matter. The plight of this ambitious bird's fledglings reminds me of my own when I complained about having to study for A-levels while living on yet another building site in the London borough of Kensington and Chelsea. 'You should be glad,' she said without irony. 'You always live in the best addresses.'