Moorhen in Pond

The moorhen continues to enjoy the garden, and now the ice on the pond is melting, spending much time in the water.

The Pigeons’ Revenge

Last autumn two new squirrels came to the garden, built a dray high up in the silver birch. They constructed it almost directly on top of a pigeons’ nest. Today I watched the pigeons taking revenge. They mated four times, each time right after the last, all on top of the squirrels’ dray, which has been left looking decidedly squashed and sad.

Goldfinches and Lemon Balm Seeds

We are daily visited by a charm of goldfinches. They are so pretty, and are drawn to the garden mainly because of the lemon balm seeds. Every summer, I forget how valuable these seeds are to the goldfinches, and because these plants seed so well, I pull many of them up. I do this with great satisfaction, if only I could be mindful of the value of lemon balm seeds to the goldfinches, then I would have much more pleasure during this time of year and the birds would certainly profit more.

Striking Looking Birds

Snow still thick on the ground; I watched a covey of eight red-legged partridges in the orchard at the end of our garden. They are a striking looking bird and watching them through binoculars I wished we saw them more often.

The moorhen is back in the garden, this year on its own – another striking looking bird. We are delighted every winter to see it for a few months wandering all over the garden. This year it is pecking at any long stray tufts of grass poking through the snow. It also eats the food put out for the birds.

Winter Scene

Another trip to Reading today: it is a freezing cold day with thick, heavy, white frost on the verges. Coming from Gilston on the A414 we see flooded fields turned into frosty ice rinks. Clouds of seagulls hovering low over the land.


Red berberis berries and white snow berries line the road at one point. The deciduous trees stand stark and bare the ground underneath carpeted by a thick, crisp cover of frosted white leaves. We pass a hungry heron pacing a field with frozen soil bereft of stream, and wonder what he will find to eat. Winter sunlight imperceptibly greening the frozen grass. Horses standing woodenly on white frost covered legs against bare hedges catching the warmth of weak sunbeams.

A Frosted Blackbird

It’s very cold outside, the sun comes up moon white every morning into a silvery sky, last night’s sunset was surprisingly red, so perhaps today the sun will shine and gently warm some of the creatures living outside and enduring this freezing spell of weather.

It’s 9am: the thin white sunlight brightens the snow on the lawn and in the fields, while deepening the shadows. A pair of squirrels is busy collecting food from the bird table and storing it in the woodpile, a jay sitting on the lower branch of the birch tree, watches them, as yet he has made no attempt to sabotage their winter store. My guess is that he is the one that has already been eating food straight from the bird table, and is now marking where his next meal will come from. Another squirrel is sitting fatly, his fur all puffed out, on the bird table. He has eaten his fill, stored much, and is obviously not interested in the rest of the food, other than to guard it from the birds with a view to keeping it for himself.

A skein of Canada geese just flew noisily above the garden, I love the way their calls announce their coming, making it possible to fully enjoy the sight of their flight formation. The fieldfares are here at last! Only four but such a welcome sight, yesterday I watched a solitary redwing feeding in the same overgrown but many-berried cotoneaster that feeds the fieldfares today.


Early this morning, I watched two blackbirds tussling over food on the bird table; one of them was lightly brushed with frost and must have had a very cold overnight perch. I wondered at the metabolism of birds and knew that if that was us subjected to these sub-zero temperatures we would likely have succumbed to hypothermia, but here less than fifteen inches away was this striking black and bright yellow-billed chap, perky as ever and fighting for his rights on the food table.

Happy new year, not only to you but to all my garden friends outside who give so much pleasure and ask for so little in return.

Fieldfares at Last

The fieldfares are here, at last! Only four, but such a welcome sight it feels like a Christmas blessing. Yesterday I watched a solitary redwing feeding in the same overgrown, but many berried, cotoneaster that the fieldfares are using today.

Outside everywhere is still snow covered, but now it has frozen solid, just to add to the discomfort of our wild neighbors.

Somehow the bottom of the squirrel-proof peanut holder has disappeared so I am again feeding tits from the bird table, which means the pigeons, jays and squirrels eat far more than the little tits ever manage to.

I watched two blackbirds tussling over food on the bird table. One of them was lightly brushed with frost and must have had a very cold perch during the night. I wondered at birds’ metabolism and thought how, if that were us, we would likely have succumbed to hypothermia and maybe died, but here was the black, yellow-billed chap, perky as ever and fighting for his rights amongst the food.

It is very cold outside – the sun rises moon-white each morning into a silvery sky. Yesterday’s sunset was surprisingly red, so perhaps today the sun will shine and gently warm some of the creatures living outside during this freezing spell of weather.

It is 9am. The thin white sunlight brightens the snow on the lawn and in the fields, and deepens the shadows. A pair of squirrels is busy collecting food from the bird table and storing it in the woodpile. A jay sitting in the lower branches of the birch tree watches them. As yet he has made no attempt to sabotage their winter store. My guess is that he is the jay who has already been eating food straight from the bird table and is now marking where his next meal will come from.


A squirrel is sitting fatly – his fur all puffed out – on the bird table. He has eaten his fill, stored much here and there, and is obviously not much interested in the rest of the food other than to protect it from the birds with a view to keeping it for himself.

A skein of Canada geese just flew noisily above the garden. I love the way their calls announce their coming, making it possible to fully enjoy the sight of their overhead flight formation.

A Field near Hertford

On a trip to Reading, near Hertford, we passed a field on the left-hand side, a pretty scene – a small field, surrounded by trees, winter brownish-green grass, and passing through the centre: a stream formed from snow melt and rainfall, wide at the road edge, barely tapering toward the middle and suddenly disappearing – not forming a pond, not narrowing further, just disappearing as if into a black hole. Settled on the edge of this new stream two Canada geese, resting, one head down, the other head held high on long stretched neck, peering curiously around. Beak turned first one way, and then the other.

Dwindling Bird Populations

Over the past forty years, bird populations have plummeted: kestrels and reed bunting by a third; skylarks, goldfinches, yellowhammers and linnets by more than half; yellow wagtails and starlings by nearly three-quarters; and worst of all, turtle doves, tree sparrows, corn buntings and grey partridges have crashed by around 90%.