Thrushes gather and turn to apples

It is only within the last few days that the birds have turned to the piles of apples, half-hidden by snow, that have sat in the garden practically untouched for weeks. The combination of snow, still several inches deep here in my parent’s garden on the Sussex border, and the berry larder now stripped bare, has driven the thrushes to seek out other opportunities, drawing in Fieldfares and Redwings from the frozen farmland fields and empty hedgerows. There must be a couple of dozen birds in and amongst the low bushes and the long dead architecture of summer’s growth. Blackbirds dominate numerically but it is the larger, more robust, Fieldfares that will have the ultimate say in the pecking order. The small, dark Redwings, with their prominent white eye-stripe and soft call are the birds that catch my eye though. I have fond memories of handling dozens of these Nordic visitors whilst ringing at a Norfolk orchard near Ashill and they are a very rare visitor to my Norfolk garden.

The Redwings are true nomads; pushing south in autumn from their northern breeding grounds they can be heard at night, their soft calls a much-stated omen of the approaching winter. The numbers wintering here are variable, reflecting the changing patterns of food availability and the vagaries of the weather. An individual wintering here in one year could just as easily be found wintering in northern Italy the following year. Because of their size and their preference for soil-dwelling invertebrates, Redwings can struggle when the winter weather is at its worst. Hard frosts and snow cover prevent access to favoured foods and, once the berry crop has also been depleted, they can struggle to find food. It is then that their mobility comes into play, the birds moving further south and west in search of food and more favourable conditions. Those that remain here will increase their use of orchards and gardens, with rural gardens more heavily used than suburban ones.

In with the Redwings there is a single Song Thrush, a species which has been seen less often over recent weeks if the reports that I have received are truly part of a wider pattern. Of similar size to the Redwings, the Song Thrush might also have been struggling with the unfavourable weather conditions. Again, individuals could have been forced south by the weather but some may have remained and succumbed to the bitter cold. We will have to wait for spring to find out.

The apples have become the focus of attention because there is little else left accessible. As birds jostle for this sweet resource, it is reassuring to know that this part of the apple crop has found a good home

A scatter of winter thrushes

It was wonderfully bright and crisp the other morning, as I explored the fields around Harling. Mobile tit flocks were much in evidence within the small patches of woodland, while great spotted woodpeckers could be heard drumming in the distance.  Near to the Dower House at West Harling I came across a mixed flock of birds that was feeding on an area of overwinter stubble. The flock was not overly large but was spread out over a reasonable area and, as I scanned across it with my binoculars, I was able to pick out a number of different species. Brightly coloured yellowhammers stood out against the stubble, foraging alongside less obvious greenfinches and the occasional chaffinch. Starlings shuffled about with a busy action, searching for food, among similarly sized redwings and larger fieldfares.

The fieldfare is one of my favourite birds, with a gait and pose similar to a mistle thrush but marked more distinctively. The bold, grey head and rump contrast with a rich chestnut brown back, dark wings and a black tail. These wary birds often stand with the neck and head held high, the wings drooped at their side and the tail held horizontally. They have a rapid, almost bounding gait and, when disturbed, they will take to the top of the nearest tree. The redwing is much smaller and more subtly marked than its larger relative. Slightly smaller than a song thrush, the redwing is darker in colour and has a distinctive white stripe above the eye (known as the supercilium). The chest has dark streaks, rather than spots, and the underwing is smudged rufous-orange.

Both species are winter visitors, arriving in autumn from breeding grounds that stretch across Fennoscandia and east into Russia. Arable fields containing permanent pasture and stubble are favoured and the birds feed on earthworms, snails and other invertebrates taken from the surface of the soil. In early winter, fruits and berries feature prominently in their diet but stocks are usually exhausted before the year’s end. Redwings, in particular, struggle during cold weather and will make nomadic movements to escape the worst of the cold. In some years, individuals will venture into gardens in search of food. Although more robust, Fieldfares may also visit gardens to feed on windfall apples.

This flock was one of few that I have seen this winter and there seem to be fewer around this year. It will only be a number of weeks until these wonderful birds begin to depart, though some may linger through into May and occasional birds have summered here in previous years. While their departure heralds the arrival of spring, it will be a shame to see them go.

20 pence flight from Norway

There is something special about birdwatching on the east coast during autumn. You get a real sense that vast numbers of birds are on the move, streaming into the country from across the North Sea. This was something that was brought home to me the other day as I walked the lanes around Happisburgh, enjoying the bright, clear weather that carries just enough edge to let you know that summer is truly over. Small groups of blackbirds were passing overhead, together with smaller numbers of redwings and occasional fieldfares. From the hedgerows, more ragged here than elsewhere in the county, came the high-pitched contact calls of diminutive goldcrests, busy searching for insects. Even though goldcrests breed in Britain (there are some 600,000 pairs nationally), these particular individuals were more likely to be migrants, freshly arrived from Scandinavia or western Russia.

As well as being the smallest British bird, the goldcrest has the distinction of being one of the lightest birds anywhere in the world to make regular sea crossings as part of an annual migration. For a bird that weighs roughly the same as a twenty pence piece (about 5.3 grams) such movements are truly remarkable. In some years, bushes and hedgerows at east coast sites may be literally ‘dripping’ with exhausted goldcrests during autumn. These are birds that must operate very close to their physiological limits. Information generated from bird ringing schemes, operating across Europe, has revealed that goldcrests breeding in the northernmost boreal forests are almost completely migratory in their behaviour. Birds from breeding populations situated further south are more likely to remain where they are to overwinter. Some coastal populations on the edge of the Arctic Circle in Norway also remain close to their breeding grounds in winter. By doing so, they have to cope with severe cold and nights that are 18 hours long. It has been calculated that these birds may burn off a fifth of their body weight each night, just to maintain their body temperature at a safe operating level!

This autumn has seen very large numbers of these tiny birds arriving on our shores. Even though the main arrival took place in the second half of October, and was centred on the Yorkshire and Lincolnshire coast, there still appear to be good numbers within East Anglia. Most mornings, while exercising my overly energetic spaniels in Thetford Forest, I encounter goldcrests foraging among the conifers. As if to reinforce the origins of some of these birds, I received a report last week of one individual caught within a mile or so of Thetford which sported a Norwegian ring. One wonders where the individuals I had seen at Happisburgh were from.