A mild end to the year

December has been rather mild overall and there have been times when, working outside, I have been most comfortable in a t-shirt. The mild weather has had an effect on our wildlife too, with a wider range of bird song evident and a distinct shortage of birds coming to visit the garden feeders. Judging by the moth wings scattered on the floor of the passageway at the side of our house, a brown long-eared bat has been equally active over recent weeks.

Coming off the back of a colder spell early in the month, the warm damp air that pushed up from the Azores mid-month seems to have tricked some birds into thinking that spring was on its way. In addition to the characteristic winter song of robin, which adds a melancholy air to the winter months, blackbird, mistle thrush, dunnock and woodpigeon were all to be heard in song from the garden. With the exception of dunnock, these are species that often make their first nesting attempt very early in the year and I would not be surprised to learn of individuals sat on eggs during the first half of January. Even a pair of mute swans on the river were reinforcing their pair bond with display behaviour more usually seen in spring.

That the garden feeders have been so quiet is not just a reflection of the mild conditions, which reduce the energetic stresses faced by small birds, but also the size of the autumn seed and berry crop. The 2013 crop of woodland and hedgerow fruits and seeds has been so abundant that it continues to last well into the winter months. No doubt the lack of a heavy frost has also played its part, since this often see the berries drop to the ground, where they then become accessible to small mammals and other wildlife. While the garden is quiet, the local woods are still busy with birds and mobile flocks of tits and finches can be found feeding among the trees. Siskin and lesser redpoll have been favouring the riverside alders; should the weather turn cold early in the New Year then I would expect the garden feeding station to become a hive of activity.

A bright end to the week

A flock of Bramblings, 60 plus in number, is loafing noisily in the tops of the roadside beeches as I set out with the dogs. I suspect that they have been feeding on what remains of last autumn’s beechmast, tucking in to what has been overlooked by the Woodpigeons and Chaffinches that have been feeding here for many weeks. I sense that these Bramblings will soon be off, heading back to breeding grounds that lie hundreds of miles away to the east, and I picture them laying down fat reserves ahead of this great seasonal journey. Their passing, just as the first Chiffchaffs and Sand Martins are arriving, hints at the dynamic nature of our avian communities. What suits one species for summer may suit another during the winter. Things are on the move in this season of change.

The Roe Deer are still here though, all deep brown winter coats and white rumps. Unless they end up in the sights of the ranger’s gun, they will remain throughout the year. Ever inquisitive as they move off upon my approach they will stop and turn to look back, taking me in as they do most mornings. Do they recognise me or am I just another human wandering in their patch of forest? They certainly seem unfazed, keeping a modest but polite distance between us.

The volume of bird song has increased over recent days and there is evidence that birds are now settled on territories. Three different Yellowhammer males have been singing for a couple of weeks now and I have a good idea of where their individual territories begin and end. One is paired but the others still appear to be single and I shall have to see what develops. A pair of Mistle Thrushes rattle harshly at a Carrion Crow that is taking too much interest in the tree where I suspect the thrushes have an active nest. While the nest is out of the reach of any ground-based predators, the crows will be an ever-present threat and the tenacity of the parent thrushes will surely be put to the test if they are to rear young successfully.

It is a good time of the year to be out in the forest, the sense of anticipation as the season begins to wind up into action. Summer migrants will soon arrive in growing numbers and then there will be a blur of activity as plants flower, eggs hatch and insects emerge. It is a time of the year that fills me with optimism; even if I set out feeling a bit low, by the end of the walk I am happy, smiling and full of the joys of spring.

Mistle Thrush well into breeding season

The local Mistle Thrushes have been singing for some time now. Indifferent to the wind and rain of last month, hence the local name of ‘storm cock’, their song has been heard on and off for many weeks. I suspect that they are now incubating a clutch of eggs or, possibly, feeding young chicks. Mistle Thrush nests are either placed up against the trunk of a tree, in the crook where branch meets trunk, or further out in a fork on a horizontal branch.

The nest itself, like those of certain other thrushes, has several distinct layers to its construction. An outer layer of loosely woven grasses and roots is held together by a layer of mud and rotten wood. Finally, the nest cup is lined with finer grasses and, occasionally, pine needles, the latter possibly serving as an insect repellent against nest parasites. In my opinion the nest is less tidy than those of Blackbird or Song Thrush and sometimes incorporates bits of paper or plastic.

Mistle Thrushes seem to do well in suburban areas, as does the Song Thrush, though both species have undergone significant declines in their populations since the 1970s. They are, however, often overlooked and many casual observers regard the two species as being just one – the thrush. While the Song Thrush (smaller than a Blackbird) is a bird of warm tones, the Mistle Thrush (larger than a Blackbird) tends to show colder tones, with pale greys and browns. One of the best features to use when separating the two species is the shape of the spots on the upper part of the breast. On Song Thrush these are shaped like upside-down arrowheads, though they become more rounded and slightly elongated on the flanks. In Mistle Thrush the spots are round in shape and they often coalesce to form darker patches on the flanks.

Later into the year you may well see family parties of Mistle Thrushes feeding together. These small groups of birds remain wary around humans and will often fly away at your approach, uttering an alarm call that sounds like an old football rattle. Perhaps surprisingly, given their wary nature, Mistle Thrushes can be rather noisy around the nest, giving its location away to human observers and potential predators alike. Mind you, the Mistle Thrush is a formidable bird and pairs will not hold back when attempting to drive potential predators away from the nest. You should also keep an eye out for adult Mistle Thrushes feeding on open areas of short turf and then carrying food back to hungry young. Although the young remain in the nest for just two weeks, the adults will undertake more breeding attempts throughout the summer.