For days either side of the last weekend in January, the garden positively flutters with avian activity. Little tits peck the peanuts, chirpy flocks of sparrows throw the seeds they don't like out of the feeders for dunnocks and chaffinches to peck at below. Goldfinches sweep in, sometimes eight or more at a time, twittering and squabbling to get to the niger seeds. A flock of long-tailed tits, chippering and chiming, might surround the fat balls for a lively feeding session, before going on their way. The robin sings, the wren darts about in the hedges. Keen-eyed blackbirds hunt for worms on the lawn, collared doves call from on top of the chimney pots and the woodpigeons, nicknamed Hilary and Tom, get romantic under the pear tree*.
Yesterday, one coal tit, one blue tit, a dunnock and three sparrows were 'it'. To be fair, that wasn't our worst ever birdwatch - in 2013, I saw nothing at all, as you can read here. Meanwhile, on Twitter, someone posted a photo of a kingfisher in their garden. I retweeted it, somehow without adding the words 'smug b*st*rd!', although I could have ticked off two Kingfishers this time last week - not in the garden, but along the Macclesfield Canal as we made our way back to base from Congleton on our little narrowboat. One of the kingfishers has apparently become almost resident at the Heritage boatyard near Scholar Green. We also saw a stunning male kestrel on that journey - all too quick for the camera, of course.
It'll be interesting to see what turns up tomorrow!
*Welfare rights lit spoiler!
