Tag Archive | Turdus pilaris

Snow birds

In the two recent periods of snowy weather (The Beast from the East, over 1, 2 and 3 March) and the Mini Beast from the East (from 18 March onwards – no more snow falling but it is still heavy on the ground), we’ve been putting even more food down for the wild birds. We’ve been rewarded by some great views of birds we rarely see in the garden – and three species that are new to us.

The first new species might not seem that exciting, as they are all around us in the village, nesting in rookeries in the tall beech trees, but we have never had rooks (Corvus frugilegus) actually come down into our garden before.

Rook (Corvus frugilegus). Photo by Rafał Komorowski (Wikimedia Commons).

Rook (Corvus frugilegus). Photo by Axel Mauruszat (Wikimedia Commons).

The second new bird was a very exciting sighting, and he’s been back several times: a male hawfinch (Coccothraustes coccothraustes). This is the biggest finch in the UK, and we’ve never seen one before, anywhere, so to see one in our garden was wonderful. And he’s bloody massive. I tried to get a photo of him next to a chaffinch, the finch it most resembles, but sadly failed to get a decent shot.

Male hawfinch (Coccothraustes coccothraustes). Photo by Mikils (Wikimedia Commons).

Male hawfinch (Coccothraustes coccothraustes).

Top to bottom: Starling, blackbird, hawfinch.

The third new bird is a male reed bunting (Emberiza schoeniclus). This little bird looks superficially like a male house sparrow, but has a distinctive black head, bright white collar and a black streak like a tie down its chest. Its body plumage is a little streaky in appearance, reminiscent of a siskin’s or a dunnock’s.

Male reed bunting (Emberiza schoeniclus). Photo by Andreas Trepte (Wikimedia Commons).

We’ve also had quite a few fieldfare (Turdus pilaris) and redwing (Turdus iliacus) visit during the snowy periods. We only see these winter visitors occasionally.

Turdus overload: top to bottom Fieldfare, Song thrush, Redwing, Blackbird.

Bird species seen in our garden during the snowy spells of March 2018:

Blackbird  (Turdus merula)

Song thrush  (Turdus philomelos)

Fieldfare  (Turdus pilaris)

Redwing  (Turdus iliacus)

Robin  (Erithacus rubecula)

Long-tailed tit  (Aegithalos caudatus)

Blue tit  (Cyanistes caeruleus)

Great tit  (Parus major)

Chaffinch  (Fringilla coelebs)

Goldfinch  (Carduelis carduelis)

Greenfinch  (Chloris chloris)

Hawfinch   (Coccothraustes coccothraustes)

Siskin  (Spinus spinus)

Reed bunting  (Emberiza schoeniclus)

Dunnock (Hedge sparrow)  (Prunella modularis)

House sparrow  (Passer domesticus)

Starling  (Sturnus vulgaris)

Pied wagtail  (Motacilla alba yarrellii)

Wood pigeon  (Columba palumbus)

Collared dove  (Streptopelia decaocto)

Jackdaw  (Coloeus monedula)

Rook  (Corvus frugilegus)

Round and round the apple tree … redux

Last night was very cold, and we woke to a heavy frost, the fiercest yet this winter. In the secret garden next door we were treated to the lovely sight of our first fieldfare (Turdus pilaris) of the winter, a new arrival from Scandinavia or points further east. He was flying between the tall beeches that surround the garden and the central, old apple tree, with its spread of windfall apples on the ground beneath, chasing off any blackbirds (Turdus merula) that got too close to his stash.

Fieldfare (Turdus pilaris). Photo by Bengt Nyman.

Fieldfare (Turdus pilaris). Photo by Bengt Nyman.

Now this might be a bit of a stretch, and I have no idea of the longevity of fieldfare, but I wonder if this is the same bird that stayed in the secret garden for well over a month during the winter two years ago. Fieldfare normally travel in flocks, so seeing a singleton is unusual enough. The fact that this one is displaying the same territorial behaviour towards the secret garden makes me wonder ….

The secret garden, surrounded by tall beech trees and with its old apple tree in the centre. The fieldfare was in one the beeches when I took this, not that you'll be able to spot it.

The secret garden, surrounded by tall beech trees and with its old apple tree in the centre. The fieldfare was in one the beeches when I took this, not that you’ll be able to spot it.

Our visitor two years ago finally left us when our neighbours on the other side of the secret garden started having lots of treework done, involving noisy chainsaws. The day that started, he left. We didn’t see him last year. It’s lovely to have him (or one like him) back.

And as a double bonus, this morning I heard the first song thrush (Turdus philomelos) singing. They sing through the spring and early summer, and then stop, starting up again in winter. It’s wonderful to hear.

Update: 24 January 2017: We have had several days of very hard frosts and sub-zero temperatures at night. Two days ago our lone fieldfare was joined by four others, and the blackbirds were down feeding on the apples too. It seems the greater number meant that the original fieldfare gave up on chasing everyone else off. Yesterday we counted ten fieldfare. We have been supplementing the apples with oatmeal, suet, sultanas, sunflower seeds, chopped up dates and figs: I think the birds eat better than we do!

Update 27 January 2017: The apples are now gone, and so too are the fieldfare: we started putting out extra apples just too late to keep them around (they didn’t eat any of the other offerings). Oh well. It was lovely having our loner and latterly his friends for as long as we did.

Round and round the apple tree

By coincidence, my last couple of posts have been about Scandinavia, snow and ice, and ovicaprids. I’m not going to manage to shake free of all of those in this post either …

Filedfare. Photo by Arnstein Rønning.

Fieldfare (Turdus pilaris). Photo by Arnstein Rønning.

We woke this morning to a terrific hard frost. The countryside is white; the trees are white; it is gorgeous. It’s not quite so gorgeous inside our bedroom, where there was ice on the inside of the windowsone of the joys of living in a 300 year old cottage with all its draughts and dampness and ill-fitting doors and windows.

We call one of the gardens next to ours ‘the secret garden’. Not so much because it is hidden, but because no-one uses it. The cottage to which it belongs is rented, and none of the tenants in the last few years has shown any interest in it. Contract gardeners come and cut the grass about four times a year, and that’s it. We can see into the garden from our bedroom dormer window. There is an alder tree which has grown from a small sapling when we arrived in 1992 to a large, two-trunked tree; there is an old ruined cottage or barn or outbuilding, the stone walls of which survive to about a metre or so high and are gradually being covered by brambles; and there is a venerable old apple tree. The apple tree always fruits prodigiously, and because no-one uses the garden, the apples stay where they fall. They provide welcome food for wildlife in the winter months.

This morning the apples were providing a frosty feast for about nine or ten blackbirds (Turdus merula), a grey squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis), and a single fieldfare (Turdus pilaris). Fieldfare are a palaearctic species, living in more northerly latitudes in the summer and heading south in the winterour fieldfare come from Scandinavia. Normally they travel in flocks, so it is always surprising to see a lone one. This one was vigorously defending its food, spending more time chasing all the blackbirds away than it was eating. Watching them, I could almost hear the Benny Hill Show theme tune in my head as the fieldfare scooted round and round the apple tree in hot pursuit of a blackbird.

Play nicely, children. Photo by Dave Jackson.

Play nicely, children. (This is a small fieldfare as an adult fieldfare is quite a bit larger than an adult blackbird). Photo by Dave Jackson.

I would love to have seen this many!

Update 4 January 2015: A week on and the fieldfare is still with us. He sits in one of the higher beech trees that surrounds the secret garden, and swoops down to chase off larger interlopers who are getting too close to his precious stash of slowly-rotting apples. He tolerates the smaller birds such as chaffinches (Fringilla coelebs) and dunnocks (Prunella modularis) and blackcaps (Sylvia atricapilla), but is aggressive in his pursuit of the blackbirds. Even larger birds like jackdaws (Corvus monedula) get the ‘get orf moi laaaand’ treatment from him (or should that be written in a Scandinavian rather than a West Country accent?)

Update 29 November 2016: The fieldfare stayed for about a month, leaving the day our neighbours on the other side of the secret garden started having some very noisy chainsaw work done on their trees. We didn’t see him in winter 2015, but this morning we woke to a hard frost and a lone fieldfare guarding the apple tree in the secret garden. Is it the same bird? I’d like to think so ….