LITMIR.BIZ

      Glendoher, 14 January

      The goldfinches have finally returned to Glendoher. Last year when we put the nyjer seeds out, by some magical communication system known only to birds, goldfinches, which rarely grace our garden, turned up within a day, and feasted on the seeds for a week, three and four at a time perched on the feeder. This winter we hung the feeder out again in November, but except for one visit by one bird, we saw no goldfinches at all until last week. As if they have just arrived in the neighbourhood, three pairs have been constantly coming to the feeder, with three queuing in the Himalayan birch tree while the other three feed. It is such a joy to see such bright colours against the garden’s drab background, but it is impossible to fully appreciate the wonderful plumage of the male goldfinch unless you see it up close, through binoculars.

      With the goldfinch feeding on the nyjer seed this year is the tiny pink-capped redpoll; five of these little beauties, an unusual, odd number, have been coming for the last two days. The redpolls are particularly covetous birds, constantly fighting with one another in intricate and fast aerial combats for a place on the feeder; though there is enough space to take four of these tiny ruffians, rarely will those feeding put up with more than three. Birdwatch Ireland says that the redpoll is ‘a widespread breeding species, mainly in upland areas’, but although I spend a lot of time in our nearby ‘upland areas’, I have never once seen a redpoll there. Maybe it is because they usually breed in coniferous plantations, and although one will often hear the twittering of the birds that frequent conifers, it is always difficult to see them. In winter, and particularly when food becomes scarce in the coniferous plantations, redpolls come down to the lowlands seeking a variety of seeds, and nyjer seeds seem to be a favourite.

      Glendoher, 15 January

      When the temperature drops and frost appears, the number of bird species frequenting our garden seems to increase. I was surprised one morning, with the temperature below zero, to see tiny goldcrests and siskins in the conifers behind the wall, and later in the morning an amazing flock of about sixty to seventy goldfinches flying over the field, east to west. I hoped they would wheel and come back to our feeder, but they continued to swoop along, their gay colours brightly reflecting the sun, to the tall trees at the west of the field. They stayed there for ten or fifteen minutes, busily moving about and feeding in the upper branches. Only when a visiting seagull flew too close did they move on, flowing across to a neighbouring tree. About two dozen came to the tall conifer at the eastern end of the field and dropped down to perch in the fronds; they were beautiful to see, the low morning sun picking up their light- coloured undersides as they hung upside down to get at choice titbits. Then a magpie came chattering past and set them off again, westward ho!

      Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop

      From low hung branches; little space they stop;

      But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek;

      Then off at once, as in a wanton freak:

      Or, perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings,

      Pausing upon their yellow flutterings.

      – John Keats, ‘I stood tip-toe upon a little hill’