Sunset and Moonrise

It’s hard to believe that spring is coming but it is – no, really. The birds are singing with renewed vigour and in the garden buds are fattening, the heads of hyacinths are poking through the waterlogged soil and every evening the sun sets a little later. It’s cold, it’s wet, it’s still snowing in many places where it’s been snowing for months, but the return of the sun is inexorable.

At the beginning of the month we were in Hampshire where the scoured hills lay naked and shivering waiting for the first crop of the year to mantle them. The beginning of February is about as bleak as it gets in the UK, trees stand as bare as pylons and wind scourged hedgerows bleached by frost are choked with the dead straws of last summer.

Is it any wonder that people at this time of year are desperate to be reminded that summer will return? Ever since people have lived on these islands we have waited for the signs – any sign – that winter will soon be over. February 2nd is the day that many people tired of winter associate with the return of the sun and wether you call this date Imbolc, St Brigids day, Candlemass (or in the US and Canada, Groundhog day) I think we are all united in one simple desire – to see the start of spring.

Imbolc was a beautiful cold frosty day and as wintry as you can imagine, but it was the first time we’d seen the sun in a good long while.  I spent the day stalking through hedgerows (and I may write about what I saw there in another post), and as the sun sank low on the horizon a two minute miracle occurred. An ash tree in the hedgerow before me was struck golden by the falling rays of the sun, and it flamed against the brilliance of the deep blue winter sky.

As I approached I realised that the tree was full of Fieldfares, a shy migratory thrush we have seen in extraordinary numbers this winter. One by one they streamed from the tree as I got closer, their harsh alarm calls filling the air. I was distracted by sounds in the hedgerow – deer! and when I looked up again, the tree was grey and silent once more. But when I looked in the other direction, I saw this

And this

Later that evening as we knew that the moon would be full, we decided to go and watch it rise and light candles in thanks that the sun would be returning again tomorrow. The sky had clouded over and in truth we didn’t expect to see anything. Then with uncanny timing the clouds parted as we reached our vantage point and slowly a vast amber moon hoisted itself into the sky.

For more beautiful and fascinating images of the sky around the world, visit Skywatch Friday!

Feed The Birds

When running in my local park just before the big snowfall I marvelled at how so many birds seemed to be in full and frantic song, as if it were summer almost. The unseasonal display was quite disconcerting. Are they singing so early to establish territory in harsh weather? Birdsong is more than a pretty sound, it’s a territorial display, and birds would not waste their breath unless something pretty important was at stake. In winter, food and water and a safe place to roost are all that matters.

According to the RSPB this exceptionally harsh winter may be “the single greatest wildlife killer of the new millennium”. Food is hard to find under a blanket of ice and snow, and the extremely low night time temperatures mean that birds and other animals face death if they have not eaten enough to give them the energy to stay warm. Good quality food with a high energy content is vital, as is clean fresh water; many birds and animals suffer when ponds, puddles and lakes freeze. Urban and suburban gardens will be seeing unusual avian visitors as birds are forced to search further afield for food. On my frosty run last week I saw a beautiful flock of goldfinches gleaning frost twisted thistle heads beside the pond. And during the worst of the snow I could hear greenfinches twittering and whirring throught the back gardens; I’d be surprised if they’d found much to make it worth their while that day. I’ve mentioned my reluctance to feed the birds in our cat infested garden before, but seeing these hungry refugees inspired me to buy nut and seed feeders in the hope of helping them out.

Of course you don’t need to spend huge amounts of money on feeding the birds – as you can see, an upturned bucket or bin works well as a low level feeder, and I sprinkled this one with porridge oats and a bit of muesli. It was gone in a flash, and while the neighbours cats remain safely tucked up indoors I’m going to continue using this as a temporary bird table. Next time I will be brushing the snow and any debris off first!

The peanut feeder has been a more modest success – from what I can see, only one solitary nut has been pecked. However I believe it can take some time before birds can bring themselves to try a new feeder, just in case it’s a trap. Once the local birds know that it’s not, they will be eating happily, so I have to be patient. It doesn’t help that due to the design of our flat there is no window looking out onto the garden so watching the birds eat involves opening the back door – which disturbs the birds and freezes me.  I did get to see one unusual little visitor quite close up though – a female grey wagtail, soaking wet (from having a bath? I guess so…) appeared like a conjuring trick in our kitchen window box while we were eating breakfast.

A lousy picture which makes her look more like a pipit or thrush, but I wasn’t willing to move the curtain and risk disturbing our guest.  At first she barely moved, then set about fluffing up and preening the water from her feathers, flashing a beautiful long tail as she did so. Apart from this being an unexpected intimacy with a lovely little bird I’ve never seen in these parts before, her appearance inspired me to try my luck with a window mounted feeder. I haven’t bought one yet, but I’ll let you know how it goes when I do.

There are a few things to bear in mind when feeding the birds, such as keeping them safe from predators, what they can and can’t eat, but really it’s not rocket science. For lots of really helpful information on feeding the birds in the UK, check out the RSPB bird feeding advice. Another great resource for USA specific species is from Cornell’s project feeder watch. But to be honest, wherever you are in the world there are just a few basic rules you will need to know.  Here’s my short rundown of helpful do’s and don’ts:-

Bird Feeding Do’s and Dont’s

Do…Leave out clean fresh water for the birds as well as food. Even in winter birds must bathe to keep their plumage in the best possible condition, and drinking water provided in gardens is vital when all other water has frozen.

Don’t… Give birds milk or foods soaked in milk – they cannot digest it and it will make them ill. They can’t eat dried, dessicated coconut either, as it will swell up inside them. Fresh coconut is fine.

Do… Be aware of predators – feed birds in a clear area away from overhanging bushes or anything that could hide a cat.

Don’t… worry if you buy a bird feeder but the birds haven’t started using it yet. It can take them a little while to get used to new feeders, a couple of weeks sometimes. If the feeder is in a safe space and stocked with food which that particular feeder is made to hold, they will come.

Do… remember to carefully clean bird feeders and tables every so often with a mild disinfectant, and rinse carefully. This will help prevent the spread of infectious diseases between birds and ensure that harmful mould does not grow.

Don’t… feed the birds mouldy food – certain kinds of mould can make birds seriously ill and even kill them.

Do… remember to save your apple cores or bruised bits of banana for the bird table. If you know where the blackbirds forage in your garden, an apple core is a tasty treat for them to find! Want more ideas of things to feed the birds? Check the RSPB’s advice on what birds like to eat here!

Whether you feed the birds on an upturned dustbin, a well established bird table or feeding station, a window feeder, or even from the palm of your hand I’d love to know your tips, too, so why not leave them in a comment here?

PS:- The wonderful Michelle of Rambling Woods has a website stuffed with bird feeding tips and has offered to help answer any questions you may have on the subject over at her blog. Although she claims to “not be an expert,” I can highly recommend a visit to this helpful, resource rich and informative site.

New Year Sky

For new year I was in Edinburgh, and though that city is renowned for it’s phenomenal Hogmanay street party, we were there for a relatively quiet time visiting old friends. On New Years Eve morning we peeped out of our bedroom window to find the sky filled with whirling snow – a sight that we are now very familiar with in the UK, but last decade it was still exciting and new.  Despite my love of snow I was hoping that the sky would clear by nightfall as New Year this time around fell not only on a full moon but a blue moon, and as if that were not enough, it was going to be a partial eclipse as well. As the sky began to darken the signs were good – the clouds began to lift, and the early sunset was spectacular as they did so. We set out for a walk.

We wandered through canyons of stone tenements, the chimney tops catching the last salmon pink rays of sun; the air sharpened and pinched at our cheeks and noses. As darkness fell and we wandered along Princes Street it was preparing for a night of outdoor revelry with lights, a funfair and the din of sound checks as the stages were set up ready for the show. And above it all glowered the castle, perched high above the city on it’s snow dusted crag.

The trees that pour down the volcanic slopes on which the castle sits were dressed in lights, and as they twinkled it would not have seemed odd to me if one or more had pulled up it’s roots and begun to stride down the hillside.

But the snow wasn’t done with us yet – the wispy cloud that seemed so thin began dumping huge wet snowflakes on us as we drew level with the funfair, and my friends decided it was time to wander back. It wasn’t such  a terrible wrench – soon the huge crowds would come and I’m not so good at dealing with those, plus there were good things to eat and drink and more friends to see back at the flat. And there was still my hope of seeing that special moon. We’d agreed that when midnight came we’d all be standing on the roof no matter how cold, and I have to admit I had a couple of secret peeks out there on my own before that.  So the time came and one by one we clambered up the ladder and onto an icy, treacherous roof with our glasses and bubbly and big coats and wooly hats, clinging to the chimney pots for warmth and safety. I did see the moon and lovely it was, but I missed the eclipse despite determinedly checking for it all night long. Here’s what we did see though – the fireworks from the castle lighting up the sky.

I hope you all had a good new year,  and that this year will bring your hopes a little closer.

For more beautiful and fascinating images of the sky around the world, visit Skywatch Friday!

Tracks in the snow

Yesterday we were told to expect two feet of snow to fall overnight, and sure enough, around about midnight it began. A fine, crisp powdery snow falling thickly – as I watched from the top of the fire escape it obliterated the grass below. I went to bed thrilled skinny that even in London you get the good snow sometimes!

The morning dawned quiet and still, a strange thing in the city. But the snow was not the thick blanket I had hoped for and the flakes that were still tumbling out of the sky were wet and melting as they fell.  I trudged down the slush covered fire escape with the new bird feeder in one hand and a stepladder in the the other, trying to figure out where the most squirrel proofed place in the garden might be. That’s when I spotted the dainty tracks criss crossing the snow. There were two sets of tracks, one old and hard to read and filling up rapidly with falling snow. The tracks you see to the left however were crisp and fresh as a daisy.  A fox! Looks like  foxy was running to leap the fence when she heard me open the door – I just missed seeing her. I know that foxes hunt the mice and other rodents that hang around the compost bins and nearby garden sheds and wonder if this weather makes hunting easier or harder.  I realised that my delight in the wintry weather largely comes from having plenty to eat and not having to hunt for my food under a freezing blanket of snow. This is harsh weather for wildlife and set to stay for a week at the very least, which is why I’m breaking my rule about never feeding the birds.

Feeding the birds in my neighbourhood is a bad idea; it’s pretty much inviting them to commit suicide. Our eccentric cat loving neighbour feeds all the local cats which means that his – and our – garden is constantly full of them. Come the snow, the cats go home and I feel a little better about doing it, but there are still the squirrels to contend with – I doubt they’d actually kill a bird, but they can certainly drive them all away and eat their food. I like squirrels, but in the garden they are cunning gluttons. And then of course there is fantastic Ms fox. But I wouldn’t mind a bit if I saw a fox take a bird from our garden -  it’s what they do, it’s what they’ve always done, just making a living after all. If I feed the birds and a fox benefits from that one day… well, good luck to it.

So I hung up the feeder and retreated indoors, assuming that the big snow we were promised was all just talk. A couple of hours later the sky was dizzy with whirling snowflakes, the clouds an eerie ultraviolet. Let’s see how it looks tomorrow.

What do we know

I saw so much that day, but it’s the ephemeral things that I can’t get out of my head.

Pine tree tops
In the blue night
frost haze, the sky glows
with the moon
pine tree tops
bend snow-blue, fade
into sky, frost, starlight.
The creak of boots.
Rabbit tracks, deer tracks,
what do we know.

                   Gary Snyder

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