We made pizzas for the birds during lockdown, and our resident pigeons couldn’t get enough.

When the playgrounds closed and the world became a bit of a frightening place, we turned our garden into a makeshift pizzeria for the birds. Cyrus loved making the pizzas, and our resident pigeons were more than happy to eat them.

When the playgrounds closed, we had to improvise

There are only so many times you can entertain a small child within the same four walls. During the first COVID-19 lockdown in 2020, I found myself becoming a reluctant children’s entertainer, arts and crafts assistant, nursery teacher and general organiser of anything that might keep Cyrus occupied for longer than ten minutes.

Like thousands of other parents, H and I were suddenly trying to make sense of a world in which playgrounds were closed, friends were out of reach and a trip to Tesco took a lot more planning than it once had. Cyrus was still little, too young to understand the seriousness of what was happening, but old enough to know that something wasn’t quite right.

He couldn’t go to nursery to see his friends, visit his favourite places or enjoy the little outings that usually broke up our week. We tried to explain things in language he could understand, although telling a young child why the world has suddenly closed its doors is no easy task.

So we improvised. We painted stones, stuck shapes onto paper, made pictures for neighbours and attempted to maintain something resembling a normal routine. Some activities were successful, while others lasted approximately as long as it took me to make a coffee.

Then, one afternoon, we decided to make pizzas for the birds. As it turned out, our resident pigeons were rather enthusiastic customers.

A few wooden discs, some mud, a handful of birdseed and an enthusiastic three-year-old. Our lockdown restaurant was open for business.

Making pizzas for the birds with The Den Kit Co.

Our lockdown culinary adventures took an unexpected turn when we discovered the Make a Pizza for the Birds Kit from The Den Kit Co., introduced to us through Amara Kids. It promised an afternoon of outdoor creativity, a little wildlife education and, most importantly from Cyrus’s perspective, permission to get his hands thoroughly muddy.

Instead of preparing lunch for ourselves, we would make pizzas for the birds visiting our garden. I wasn’t entirely sure what our feathered customers would make of the menu, but Cyrus needed no convincing. Making something resembling food that he wasn’t expected to eat was apparently an excellent proposition.

I liked the thought that had gone into the kit. Inside were two reusable wooden pizza bases made from coppiced native wood in Shropshire, little hessian bags containing different varieties of bird food and nine illustrated cards introducing children to British birds. There was something appealing about an activity made from natural materials that we could use again, rather than another plastic toy destined for the bottom of a cupboard.

Cyrus set about mixing mud and patting it onto the wooden discs before adding his toppings of seeds and nuts. He took his responsibilities as head chef seriously, experimenting with different combinations and deciding which pizzas needed a little extra decoration. I was appointed kitchen assistant, although I suspect my contribution was mainly making sure the ingredients didn’t end up all over the conservatory.

It was lovely watching him concentrate on something so simple. There was no complicated set of instructions to follow, and he could decide what went where, how much topping each pizza needed and when his creations were ready for the garden.

I found myself getting quite involved, too. It was really satisfying sitting together, making something completely unnecessary by adult standards but enormously important to Cyrus. Nobody was rushing us, and we had nowhere else to be.

Of course, the real test would be whether the birds approved.

Our resident pigeons gave the pizzas their seal of approval

Once our pizzas were finished, Cyrus turned his attention to the bird identification cards. He lined them up in the conservatory, arranging them carefully before settling down to watch the garden.

Every movement outside attracted his attention. A flutter of wings, something rustling in the bushes or a bird landing nearby was enough to send him towards the window. He wanted to know which birds might visit, what they liked eating and whether they would recognise the food we’d prepared.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait forever for a customer. Our resident pigeons took rather a liking to the pizzas and were only too happy to help themselves. Clearly, our little garden restaurant had found its target market.

Cyrus was delighted. After all the effort he’d put into making his creations, seeing the pigeons enjoying them made the whole activity even better. I suspect he was less concerned about identifying different species at that point and more interested in watching his food disappear.

I couldn’t help finding it funny. We’d spent the afternoon making pizzas, carefully choosing toppings and waiting for our feathered visitors, only for the local pigeons to arrive and tuck in as though they’d been expecting table service.

They may not be the most glamorous garden birds, and they don’t have the delicate manners of some of their smaller neighbours, but they were appreciative customers. At a time when very little was going according to plan, it was just nice to see something work out exactly as Cyrus had hoped.

The bird cards remained lined up in the conservatory, and we continued looking out for different visitors. What began as an afternoon activity had given Cyrus a new interest in the wildlife just beyond our windows. During lockdown, when our world had become so restricted, the garden suddenly seemed a much more interesting place.

“I liked making the pizzas because I could get really muddy. The pigeons ate them all! They must have been very hungry.”

When the playgrounds closed, we had to get creative

Before lockdown, I underestimated how much of a young child’s day is shaped by routine. A trip to the shops, seeing another child at the playground or visiting friends and family might not seem exciting to adults, but these little experiences give children something to look forward to.

When they disappeared almost overnight, we had to find alternatives. H and I tried to keep mealtimes and bedtimes consistent, even when everything else felt uncertain. We also introduced little activities throughout the day, although I quickly discovered that an ambitious schedule and a young child’s attention span are not always compatible.

Some mornings we painted pictures. On one occasion, Cyrus made a special picture for our NHS neighbour, which felt like a lovely way of helping him understand that other people were working hard to keep everyone safe.

We also painted sticks and stones in the garden, using craft supplies I’d fortunately bought from Tesco before lockdown. As anyone who attempted to buy children’s craft materials during those early weeks will remember, even finding a decent supply of paint and glue suddenly became an achievement.

When the rain arrived, our outdoor plans were frequently abandoned, and I had to invent something else. I became quite good at making ordinary household objects sound exciting, although I suspect Cyrus was less easily impressed than I imagined.

Making pizzas for the birds worked because it combined several things he already enjoyed. There was mud, food, imaginative play and the possibility of seeing an animal. Better still, it didn’t require me to spend the afternoon pretending to be a cartoon character. And unlike some of our other lockdown projects, this one had an appreciative audience waiting outside.

Explaining lockdown to a little boy

One of the hardest parts of lockdown was explaining why we couldn’t do the things we’d always done. Cyrus didn’t understand why he couldn’t go to the playground or see his friends. From his perspective, the adults had suddenly introduced a collection of unreasonable rules.

We tried to keep our explanations simple. I remember telling him that we needed to stay at home for a little while because the world outside was poorly and we had to wait until things were better.

Looking back, it was a very childlike way of describing a complicated situation, but it was the language we had available at the time. We also tried to make the unfamiliar parts of daily life less intimidating. Handwashing became a game involving sparkly soap, which Cyrus called magic soap, and enthusiastic renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. H turned it into a competition to see who could make the most bubbles.

It was hardly a sophisticated public health campaign, but it encouraged Cyrus to wash his hands without turning the whole business into another source of worry. Keeping in touch with family was equally important. With family overseas, video calls were already part of our lives, but during lockdown they became precious. We wanted everyone to know we were safe, and Cyrus enjoyed seeing faces on the screen.

We even arranged video calls with other children. Watching two little people attempt to communicate through a screen was entertaining in itself, although I wouldn’t describe every conversation as productive. Still, it gave him an opportunity to see his friends, and that was what mattered.

Why a little messy play did us all good

I’ve always liked the idea of children learning through ordinary experiences rather than being constantly entertained by something expensive. There were moments during lockdown when I was grateful for anything that gave me half an hour to get on with something else.

But watching Cyrus make his bird pizzas reminded me how much children can get from an activity that adults might dismiss as simple.

He was using his hands, experimenting with different textures, making decisions about his creations and learning about the birds that visited our garden. He was also practising patience, something that doesn’t always come naturally when you’re small and waiting for a bird to appear on demand.

The fact that our pigeons eventually arrived and enjoyed the food made the experience all the more satisfying for him. He’d made something, put it outside and watched real animals respond. There was no need for me to manufacture excitement or pretend that his efforts had been successful. The pigeons had taken care of that.

I enjoyed the opportunity to sit with him without feeling that we needed to achieve anything. There was no finished masterpiece to frame, no educational target to meet and no particular reason to hurry.

For a few hours, we were just making pizzas for the birds.

For anyone recreating the activity today, it’s worth remembering that bird food is best offered separately from mud, in a clean, suitable feeder or on a bird table. Choose appropriate food, avoid salted or seasoned ingredients and clean feeding areas regularly to reduce the risk of spreading disease. The mud-pizza element can still provide plenty of imaginative play without mixing soil into food intended for wildlife.

Looking back at our little lockdown pizzeria

Now that Cyrus is older, I find myself thinking about those early lockdown days rather differently. At the time, I was often preoccupied with keeping him occupied.

There was also the constant background worry that came with the pandemic. We were trying to protect our families while absorbing news that seemed to change by the hour. I didn’t feel as though I was creating precious childhood memories. Most days, I was trying to get through to bedtime reasonably happy.

Yet some of the things I remember most clearly are the ordinary moments. Painting stones in the garden, watching H and Cyrus compete over who could make the most soap bubbles, and sitting in the conservatory waiting for our feathered customers to arrive.

The bird pizzas belong firmly in that collection of memories. They weren’t impressive, and I doubt any self-respecting pizza chef would have approved of our technique. But Cyrus loved making them,

If lockdown taught me anything about parenting, it was that children don’t always need huge activities or perfectly planned days. Sometimes they need a little attention, something interesting to explore and permission to make a mess. And a few wooden discs, some mud and a handful of birdseed are enough.

Did you discover any simple activities with your children during lockdown that you still remember today? And have any of them become part of your family routine?

Disclosure: The Make a Pizza for the Birds Kit from The Den Kit Co., introduced through Amara Kids, was gifted as part of a press collaboration. All opinions and experiences are my own.

Editor’s note: This article revisits our family’s experiences during the first COVID-19 lockdown in 2020. References to restrictions and family routines reflect that period.

Occasional stories, experiments, discoveries and questions from Saffron & Cyrus.