Fieldfares moving through
A loose flock of maybe forty came over just after eight, calling that dry chak-chak the whole way. First proper arrival this year — a fortnight later than last autumn, for what that's worth.
A running log of birds seen, weather noted, and the odd thing that stopped me mid-walk. Kept mostly for my own memory.
A loose flock of maybe forty came over just after eight, calling that dry chak-chak the whole way. First proper arrival this year — a fortnight later than last autumn, for what that's worth.
Little to report and that was fine. A water rail squealed once from somewhere I couldn't place, and a kingfisher went past low and fast, which always feels like more than its share of colour for one bird.
Been checking the rowan by the car park for a week out of habit. Eight of them this morning, stripping berries with that odd unhurried greed. Stood there longer than I meant to.
Still there, still refusing to acknowledge me from twenty feet away. I've started to suspect it's the same bird as last winter by sheer stubbornness alone.