Last week I was scattering crumbs for the blackbirds from the kitchen steps and my husband was whistling to call them closer. This week after I saw frost covering the lawn and ice hardening the flowerbeds there is a newly reinstated bird feeder. The blackbirds soon began to fly up and perch, flapped to balance, pecked at the contents to dislodge fat and seeds. They have remembered this strategy from last year, but are still optimistic whenever I open the back door and they eye me, head tipped to one side, from the fence.
The next birds at the feeder were the robins. This surprised me as I would have expected them to be in first. Third in line were the sparrows, popping out of the hedge one or two at a time. No problems with balance there. The woodpigeon watched from the shed roof but was unable to land on it so contented itself with waddling on the grass picking up bits. One starling appeared, but the rest of the flock were right over the field whistling in the poplars and so far they have not come to investigate. The squirrel bobbed past, but responding to gesticulations from my husband disappeared into the park. The doves were shy, but will return. The bluetits, coaltits and long-tailed tits are keeping themselves high in the birch trees, but may come down in time. The wren is hidden in the shrubs, the magpies and jackdaws cackle from the chimney pots, and as seagulls circle over the turf, the predatory kestrel is a distant memory.
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