|
|
 |
|
Cuckoos
put paid to the expression 'bird brain' We had a new visitor to our garden a couple of weeks ago. There it was just below the seed feeder, hopping about on long legs in rather ungainly leaps, its pinky-brown plumage, black tail and moustache and brilliant blue wing patches making it easy to identify - a jay. Jays are only infrequent visitors, but we do see them at this time of year when the acorns on our oak are ripe and ready to harvest. It has not just come to feast; it spends most of its time taking away individual acorns to stash away ready for the lean months ahead. Recent research shows that it has a good memory for these hiding places and can recover its stores months later. And it's not the only bird to be so provident. Coal tits are busy too. This tiny, less brightly coloured relative of the blue-tit slips into the seed feeder, seizes a sunflower seed and zips off to hide it, only to return within the minute to repeat the process. As we were watching it the other morning, a gang of eight long-tailed tits alighted on the peanut feeder, their round pink and black bodies completely covering it and their long tails sticking out at odd angles so the whole thing looked like a spiky ball. They were part of a large flock of small birds - great-tits, blue-tits - which will hang out together over the winter using their many sharp eyes to look out for good feeding opportunities and spot potential danger. It's a busy time for birds - a time of mass movement too, as our summer visitors leave and winter migrants begin to arrive. Some of our summer birds are long gone. Swifts left in August on their arduous journey to central and southern Africa. Adult cuckoos leave early too. After all, they don't have to hang about feeding and educating the family. Young cuckoos hang about until September, putting on weight and building up strength. Then they have to find their wintering grounds in Africa without the guidance of adults. What a feat of navigation. Whoever first dreamed up the phrase "bird brain" didn't know much about ornithology. Meanwhile, back in the garden, we're hearing the thin, wistful trickle of song which indicates that our local robin has completed its moult and is ready to emerge and claim its territory. Both males and females sing to announce their ownership rights and each will defend its small territory against all trespassers, preserving its food stock till spring and the mating season comes round again. [Back] |