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HONED FOR HEADLONG

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BIG GARDEN BIRDWATCH 2019

Cilla the Grey Wagtail with suet pellet prize for turning up for the Big Garden Birdwatch 2019 in Wickersley, South Yorkshire, UK

The RSPB ( the UK’s Royal Society for the Protection of Birds) organises a “Big Garden Birdwatch” on the last weekend of January every year. You count the maximum number of each species that visits your chosen patch within the space of an hour of your choice. It’s a way of inspiring young and old to grab their binoculars and point their spotting scopes at their wonderful avian neighbours. It’s also a rough indication of which species are thriving or struggling on these islands.

I made my second attempt at completing the survey this morning. It usually takes me a couple of tries, so the full hour of birding is sometimes cobbled together from ten minutes here and half an hour there, as strength and health permit. This year I’ve been fortunate to be well enough over the weekend to do the whole sitting in one go. Or rather in two goes - one yesterday afternoon and then a repeat this morning, which is pretty good going, by my low standards. As today’s session was the first feed of the day, the birds were more eager than last time, which was just after dinner.

One of the resident Magpies turned up to represent the corvids, as the Crows simply couldn’t be bothered. Neither could the other Magpies. The flock of local Wood Pigeons made a late entrance, minus my secret favourite, Drooper the Woody with the Wonky Wing or his mate Rolly, a female with a damaged leg which gives her an unmistakable rolling gait. The other pigeons who decided to participate spent most of their time attempting to mate, thrusting their wings petulantly at one another or flying off to sit in surrounding trees, meaning I needed to adjudicate whether or not they actually counted as being on my patch at all.

Drooper the Woody with the Wonky Wing

Yesterday, none of the tit family arrived during the allotted hour. Today, a trio of Blue Tits, a pair of Great Tits and a solitary Coal Tit got their attendance marks, unlike the little clan of Long-Tailed Tits I’d heard twittering away every day last week. No doubt the ‘Lollipops’ had been checking their diaries so as to co-ordinate their efforts not to get caught on the census. All the better for staying under the radar uncounted, getting up to any merry mischief they might choose, without human knowledge. The same goes for the resident Wren, who is heard but not seen most of the time, and was certainly not going to make it easy for me during the BGBW.

Great Tit (Parus major)

Blue Tit (Cyanistes caeruleus)

The House Sparrows were here in force. Fifteen of them shuttling between hedgerow and feeders, chirping the odds, swapping places, noisily networking. Numbers of males and females seemed roughly equal. I know we’re so very lucky to have a such a thriving colony of House Sparrows in residence. In many parts of the UK they are becoming a rarity.

Standing out from the crowd is the one I’ve named Lucy, from the fact she’s a leucistic bird. Leucism is a condition where a bird is born with a partial lack of pigment in its feathers. There may be patches of white where other colours are ‘normal’ for the breed. Consequently, Lucy looks, from a distance, like some sort of pale finch or bunting. Closer examination reveals her to be a female House Sparrow with beautiful snowy sections on her wings. She flutters in like a ray of light, integrated with her tribe but always distinctive in our eyes. Lovely to have some joyful diversity at the bird table.

Lucy the leucistic House Sparrow

Of the pair of resident Robins, only one graced us with its presence, plumped out and very pleased with itself to be representing its redbreast posse. Maybe it thinks it is the most photogenic and coveted tick on the list, as it has recently been voted Britain’s favourite bird and always popular for its iconic place at the heart of the winter season. Two pairs of Dunnocks were omnipresent, as usual, not attracting attention to themselves, unassuming and modest little wind-up toys, ticking along under the hedge or on the lawn, dancing jerkily under their own momentum.

The unexpected highlight for me, of this or indeed any recent BGBW, came just five minutes before the end of the appointed hour. Onto the patio bounced the Grey Wagtail, nicknamed ‘Cilla’ after its Latin name (Motacilla cinerea). She first appeared a couple of days ago for the very first time. Before that I had never seen a Grey Wagtail in the garden. I certainly wasn’t expecting her to put in an appearance for the hallowed hour. But she didn’t let me down. I even got a photo of her with a suet pellet in her beak (see above). Had to add her manually onto the BGBW results page online, as she wasn’t included among the species most likely to be seen.

A reminder, just when we might really be needing one, that you never know what is around the corner. You sometimes approach a project with cynicism, only to be delighted by unlooked for miracles, finding your glass not just half full, but overflowing. The birds in my garden remind me of that every single day.

[Full result: 1 Robin, 15 House Sparrows, 7 Blackbirds, 6 Wood Pigeons, 4 Dunnocks, 1 Magpie, 3 Blue Tits, 2 Great Tits, 1 Coal Tit and 1 Grey Wagtail.]

Robin (Erithacus rubecula) Britain's favourite national sweetheart

YOU ARE SNOWDROP. I AM ROBIN.

 Your dangling skull fixates on the damp path,

Rooted yet restless, nipped by a node of green,

Trapped in last year’s leaf loam from the cherry tree.

You are Snowdrop. I am Robin.

Across my dancefloor you throw your chubby shadow.

I hear shrill thrill from your syrinx

Part carillon, part weeping.

You are Robin. I am Snowdrop.

Why dance, pale nodding prisoner of the old soilways?

Why sing, blood-breasted fugitive from the rusty kettle?

Apart we know no tie or truck, one with the other.

Together we are heralds of the hopes of spring,

Pearls on a thread of joy sewn through the frozen earth

Birthing winter’s slow melt into blossom and blessing.

SINGING ONLY STILLNESS

She stands as the crack of light
Between darkness and day
Not editing herself
Letting fears sob and unknot inside her opening heart
Letting her silent survival outpace the tread of doubt

Till suddenly there is peace
Where it has waited, always, quivering,
Muffling the gibber of plans and resolutions
Crowing crowds under the gasp of fireworks
Heckling bells, the shuffling off of yester

Rooted in this rainbow now,
Meets herself face to faceless,
Where the robin's ribbons
Of shocking silver song
Echo eternity
Singing only stillness

Long-tailed Tits through a lens

Not often the Long-Tailed Tits hang around long enough in my garden for me to snap them with my digital camera through my hastily aimed and focused spotting scope.

Earlier today, a little flock of them breezed through, adults and juveniles. Giggling round the suet feeders. Swarming up and down the herbaceous borders, twittering pinkish brown and white dynamos attached to a cleft black tail like a ruler with white calibrations on the edges! Then they were gone again, this little family of half a dozen.

I'd never make it with the paparazzi, but I hope you'll enjoy my amateur shots of these tiny stars!

Long-tailed Tit (Aegithalos caudatus) at my suet feeder near Rotherham, South Yorkshire, UK

Long-tailed Tit (right) sharing the suet slab with a Robin

Acrobatic Long-tailed Tit with suet pellet gripped in its claw as it nibbled the treat