Category: Bird Blogs

Wednesday 20th May 2026 9:00 a.m.

Viv goes on the Snail Trail in Jubilee Stone Wood

Snails, Trails and Willow Warblers

Standing tall near the top of Jubilee Stone Wood is the Jubilee Stone, which proudly displays a roll call of many of the significant royal events of almost 200 years.  If you walk south east from the Jubilee Stone (away from the view) along the gladed bridle path towards the road, you will find yourself on the recently named Snail Trail.  Or, should I sadly say, the recently deceased Snail Trail. Since the beginning of spring walking this particular path has given rise to a regular crushing sound, a bit like walking over a path of Crunchy Nut flakes. 

This is not new to this path at this time of year however there has been a noticeable increase in volume and crunch – with regular comments from walkers who have spotted the number of pieces of variously coloured snail shells distributed along the path.  Needless to say these are gradually being crushed down by the number of walkers and dogs and yet a day later more empty pieces of shell appear.

Which brings us to the lovely Song Thrush – whose beautifully tuneful song is a highlight of these woods.  It just so happens that one of the favourite meals of the Song Thrush is a snail and they are well known for using any handy rock or tree root as an anvil, to bash the poor snail left and right until the shell falls away and the succulent meal is ready to eat.  It is no coincidence that there has been a notable increase in Song Thrush numbers this spring but I really can’t say whether more snails has meant more Song Thrushes or the other way around.  But one thing I did want to investigate is whether Song Thrushes are the only thrushes that do this.  Blackbirds, which have a very similar song to the Song Thrush but with much less repetition, are also in the Thrush family and we also have very good numbers of these.  The male blackbirds standing off to one another in the daftest of places – middle of the road, on busy paths or half way up a tree – are proof that fighting for territory or for a female is a busy Blackbird activity in BET woodlands this year.  So do our good numbers of Blackbirds add to the numbers of snail shells on the path?  Well, the BBC Wildlife Magazine is definitive on this.  They say that, almost always, it’s just a Song Thrush thing.  Blackbirds sometimes try but without the same success – so Blackbirds tend to go for the snails that can be prised open instead.  So there we have it – without Song Thrushes we wouldn’t have our Crunchy Nut flakes footpath. 

But I can’t sign off without mentioning another highlight of this late spring.  We are well into our bird surveys for the year, with only one breeding bird survey left to do, and a bonus has been the Willow Warbler picked up, once again, near the Jubilee Stone.  In this case you need to head in the opposite direction to the Snail Trail, down the rocky path.  As soon as you have gone 20 or so paces from the Jubilee Stone you may be lucky to hear a song which is very similar to a Blackcap but just isn’t quite.  In fact the Willow Warbler has a particularly cascading fluty song which has been ringing out from this position for over a month now.  I’m excited to wonder whether there is any chance of breeding in the woods as this is not a regular visitor for us.  Despite their name they do apparently like woodland and scrub so there is definitely hope.  Plus Warblers are known for singing even in the midst of breeding.  If you are lucky to spot the shy Willow Warbler (which we haven’t yet) then it will have a very similar appearance to a Chiff Chaff, including the supercilium (stripe above the eye), the olive-green colour and the small size and brisk flitting movement. So it is often only the song which allows us to tell them apart.  I loved this comment from Google : ‘If it says its name and flips its tail, it’s a Chiffchaff; if it sings a sweet, falling song and has pale legs, it’s a Willow Warbler’.

Monday 23rd March 2026 9:00 a.m.

Spring is on the way – accompanied by plentiful bird song and spring flowers.

Rain, rain go away …come back another day!  And so it did, for a while.  After the wettest January and February on record we are happy to reach spring with its mixed bag  of true blue skies and sunshine followed by rain, wind and unexpected frosts.  This is more like it!

On Monday 23^rd March I headed up to the woods to amble in the early morning sunshine before joining the weekly volunteer workparty.  It was a chilly morning, worthy of gloves and a scarf but the sun offered a promise to warm the day.

 I was deluged with bird song as soon as I entered the woods.  Wrens on either side of me, belting out their song safely from the undergrowth, a hidden Chiff Chaff singing on a tree to the left whilst a Robin perched up high for its lengthy outpouring.  Above me Jackdaws, a Magpie and then Crows are calling and chattering.  As I headed up to the layers Blue Tits chunter to either side, a Great Tit does a perfect ‘Teacher Teacher’, a Dunnock whistles to the left and a Blackbird alarm call sounds from within the bramble.  So much sound it is almost difficult to separate it out.  As I reach the still damp layers bench, I stop to lean against the back to listen some more.   Facing away from the lovely view across to the channel I can see Church Town road and the trees in the distance from where suddenly two unusually quiet Jays dart into view – beautifully resplendent in their colours.  As they disappeared I was just pausing to wonder why I hadn’t yet seen any Wood Pigeons when three fly across above me heading south.

Spring flowers are already showing on the layers.  Early Dog-violets are dotted up the side banks together with Lesser Celandines. 

 Around the bench are Primrose and Cowslip hybrids (or False Oxlip) which seem to favour these woods

But I cannot stop to focus on these for too long as I now have four Wrens singing out from differing parts of the layers and I am listening carefully to distinguish the varying tones of each of their songs.   Birds, like humans, each have their own particular intonation plus their own distinct dialects or accents. A Wren’s song, for instance, must remain identifiable but, having a fairly long and complex song, there is scope within the Wren song to lose or add the occasional note, add emphasis on different notes or use the scale slightly differently.   To complicate matters further, in spring or first thing in the morning when birds are just ‘firing up’, they often only sing part of their song.  A fun example of bird song variation is the Chiff Chaff.  This is a rather small bird with a beautiful, albeit rather simple onomatopoeic song, It sings ‘Chiff Chaff Chiff Chaff’, not leaving much room for variation.  But this is a small bird that likes to make its mark in the woods.  So from time to time you can catch the sound of ‘Chaff Chiff, Chaff Chiff’. 

Time to head down to the BET cabin.   As the sky lightens, Blackbird chitter chatter song accompanies me down the steps – first one Blackbird and then another sounding as if answering back.  Along the fern path a Nuthatch offers up loudly its particular set of whistles in a song – a sure and happy sign that spring has definitely arrived.

Monday 22nd December 9:00 a.m.

Christmas time at BETland

The Monday before Christmas is always a grand affair for the BET volunteers as it is our Christmas get-together.  This means that instead of working for 2 hours we get to work for just 1, and then repair to the cabin for an early treat of Christmas music, tea, coffee, mince pies and other Christmas treats.  Ian will light the fire and we will all toast another successful and cheerful volunteer year.

It just so happens that this particular Monday has dawned beautifully clear and is a reasonably warm 11 degrees.  The skies are blue and the birds are singing in abundance.  Whilst the volunteers scythe and rake the Layers Meadow I can’t resist heading into the woods to see and to listen.

As I head up the steps next to the Cabin I can hear so much birdsong it takes me a moment to single them out.  High above me in the trees I can hear the cheerful chatter of Jackdaws. To the left and right, darting all over, I can see and hear the distinctive chunter of busy Blue Tits. To my left, hidden from within the bushes and small trees, I can catch the single note chirps of the Redwing. There is a Robin by me singing loudly, a Magpie scolding, two Blackbirds having their usual argument and above all these – louder and prouder – is the wonderful sound of the Song Thrush.

Song Thrushes have been such a source of delight and conversation these last two weeks.   A shy, retiring bird, except when it perches on the top of a tall branch and belts out its melodious song, these birds are generally expected to sing out between spring and summer – the breeding season.  But to our delight Song Thrushes all over North Somerset have been singing in notable numbers these last few weeks.  Surveys are regularly noting 3 to 5 singing Song Thrushes per patch.  They are definitely challenging the Robin this year as the festive songster!

And on the subject of Thrushes, it is a point of note that nature is having a mast year in 2025.  This happens every few years and means we have a bumper crop of berries, acorns and seeds.  Our long dry summer and wet autumn may very well be part of the cause.  All thrushes, which include Redwing, Blackbirds and Song Thrushes, love winter berries and BETland has had a super crop. 

So it is no surprise to find a good number of Redwing in our woods and surrounding fields.  Not in large flocks but smaller gatherings where they sit together or dart around, enjoying the fare and chip, chirping in communication.

The lure of a cup of tea and a mince pie draws me back to the Cabin but I can’t pass the quarry without pausing for a moment to listen.  The acoustics around the quarry are wonderful on dry, crisp days and sounds from afar are clear.  A squeak from a Robin, more Blackbirds having a lively discussion, some Crows passing over head whilst the Jackdaws enjoy the thermals and finally, as I head off the deep cooing of a Stock Dove. What a lovely way to end my bird check and to head into 2026.  It has been another tough year for wildlife, with more extremes of temperature, but once again they have pulled through to delight us in the months and year ahead.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Saturday 20th September 8:45 a.m.

Laybird Summer 2025

Heavily laden, we toil up the steps from the BET cabin to the top of Jubilee Stone Wood to continue the early autumn clearance.  It’s the monthly Saturday volunteer workparty and we have a small but committed team who braved the forecast of morning rain. 

It was surely only a couple of weeks ago that I was praying for rain and, even now after regular deluges, the forecasters are telling us  that the local water table remains below 50%, as the incredibly dry land is just soaking up the rain.   What a summer it has been – unforgettable in many ways we would not have chosen.  The hottest summer on record and the driest and a worrying time for those of us caring about nature and about the animals that depend upon natural resources for food and water. 

So it is indeed cheering to see how nature has rallied once again.  The wood and the creatures that live there have definitely struggled and have had to adapt – but largely they have survived and it is a joy to see how quickly the wood is already returning to green.

A typical sign of resilience have been our secretive Badgers.  Badgers, in particular, absolutely love worms and I feared that their preferred diet would be unattainable for weeks in this parched earth.  There were plenty of signs of Badger digging but most looked hopeless and abandoned.  So we were thrilled to spot regular signs of Badger poo and to see clearly that they have subsisted during the hot late summer not on worms alone but largely on a diet of berries.  Fortunately Blackberries were particularly early this year, like a lot of the autumn fruit, not only early but also surprisingly moist and sweet, and the Badgers haven’t missed a trick.  From fresh signs of digging we can also see that they have also been hunting in our many large anthills – not the most satisfying diet but at least the ants are plentiful. 

We have also encountered deer in the woods from time to time during our summer surveys.  Again they have looked fit and well despite the parched grass.

And some of our butterflies have flourished in the sun.  We have had increases in numbers of Common Blue and Scarce Copper.  Our Silver-washed Fritillaries appeared far more regularly and we had a new butterfly species for the year in the Marsh Fritillary. 

Only one sighting but we can hope for more.  The dragonflies and damselflies were busy despite the lack of water and we have an amazing crop of acorns (albeit a bit hard due to the lack of water so I’m wondering about squirrel dentistry) and a good crop of crab apples.  The bracken, which has been trying hard for years to over populate our meadows, wilted in the heat and the wild flowers which had dried up in the heat awoke from their suspension and blossomed for a second time late summer helping our bees and butterflies to prepare for winter.  As a result we have had really good numbers of overwintering Red Admirals.

But I started this blog with Ladybirds in the title, because this summer has been so much about them.  I’ve always been a fan of Ladybirds and often used to wonder why they particularly liked living in the recesses in my windows but, having never seen them in good numbers, I’ve not thought about them a great deal.  This year, however, we have had swarms.  Not just for days but for weeks.  Mostly pleasant and entertaining – very occasionally (especially if you are not a fan) a bit unnerving.

So I thought it was time I gave them some thought – starting with why 2025 was a swarm year.  Well apparently it’s a food thing.  The prolonged warm spring and summer led to a massive increase in aphids.  Aphids happen to be the Ladybirds favourite food so they, in turn, quickly completed their lifecycles and enjoyed a mini boom.

And a few other fun facts about Ladybirds that I didn’t know.  Ladybirds are actually beetles and live for between 1 and 3 years.  In North America they are called Ladybugs (makes more sense) and their collective name is not a swarm but a loveliness.  Because they are eyecatching they protect themselves by being rather unpleasant to taste – but this doesn’t stop them being predated by all sorts of other insects and some less discerning birds.  And finally there are more than 40 species of ladybird in the UK and more than 5000 worldwide!

So 2025 wasn’t a hopeless summer – just a tough one for many.  If we can ask for anything now it would be a mild and gentle run up to winter so nature has a chance to restock.  I suppose it would be too much to ask for a return to our usual wet, windy and mild summer for 2026?!

Wednesday 21st May 8:45 a.m.

Lots of fabulous bird song on a sunny walk in Jubilee Stone Wood

Dappled sunshine greets me at the top of Jubilee Stone Wood.  The weather today is sunny, dry and very still.  As I enter via the access gate I can hear bird song all around me.  A Song Thrush is singing in the adjacent woods, whilst a Chiff Chaff, Robin and Wren are making themselves heard much closer.  This has been one of the driest springs on record and yet our bird surveys have delighted us with good numbers, great songs and many sightings.  Nature once again has proved able to rise above the stress of the changeable British weather.

As I stroll away from the gate I choose the right hand path, parallel to the open fields.  With lots of thick brash to my left offering safe cover there is plenty of bird song.  A Chaffinch, another Robin, several Wrens, more Chiff Chaffs and a Greenfinch are singing and calling, and I haven’t even reached the Jubilee Stone.  Then the lovely song of the Black Cap sounds out stronger and more melodious than any of the others and makes me smile.  As a self- professed lover of Blackbirds and their chitty chat melodious song, I have to say that the Black Cap comes a close second with its beautiful tone, range and melody.

Black Caps are a bird I had never heard of growing up – so I had no knowledge of them before I started bird surveying.  They are a shy bird – preferring woodland habitats or well-forested gardens – so are still not so common to spot but are becoming increasingly common to hear.  They are primarily a summer visitor but more are choosing to spend their winters in the UK. 

A grey warbler they get their name from the head of the male, which is black, whilst the female has a dark brown cap.  They are medium sized and nest in hedges or brambles.  At this time of year the males sing out loud and strong to protect territory and/or to attract a mate.  However the females sing too, for similar reasons, with a song that is quieter and less complex.

At the Jubilee Stone, bird song quietens.  The open space here is less attractive for birds, with less cover and more danger.  In fact if you walk these paths regularly you will note that they are the most common spaces within the woods to encounter raptor meal remains, feathers mostly.  Of all our local birds of prey Sparrowhawks are the ones most likely to hunt in and around these woods. Sparrowhawks are a small compact hunter, particularly adapted for working in confined, dense spaces and, being on the smaller side, they are also well known for enjoying their catch where they find it rather than carrying it off to eat. 

A beautiful bird, the male has a bluish grey back and wings and orangey brown stripes on his chest.  The female is similar but is more predominantly brown.  Like all birds of prey the females are larger than the males.  Sparrowhawks enjoy gardens meals too, so we can all be fortunate enough to see one if you have an open garden with an active bird population. 

I head off in the direction of the Warrener’s Cottage and then back to the top gate.  A very short walk but one full of activity and finds.  As I turn back, clouds start to gently roll in and I wonder whether today is the day we get some much needed rain.

Photos 1 & 3: Copyright Jon Thobroe

Thursday 20 March 2025 9.00 – 10.00 a.m.

Wandering in Badgers Wood – with the Nuthatches

Mid March and it feels wonderful to be experiencing both dry and warm weather.  In fact March has been unusually dry this year and some of the ponds in the woods are looking a bit low.  However we are enjoying this spell of warmth after a tough winter.  With the dial saying 10 centigrade and no wind I headed up to the woods to enjoy the late spring.  I was lucky to have with me today a good photographer who is keen to see the woods and to spot one of our shy but rather vocal Nuthatches.

We entered Badgers Wood at the corner of Church Town and Cheston Combe, just by the pretty stone wall rebuilt and maintained by the volunteers.  The wild garlic is rampant here with its distinctive oniony smell.  We turn immediately left to follow the path that runs up hill parallel with Cheston Combe and quickly duck beneath a thick low branch.  Bird song and chatter is all around us.  Blue Tits are chuntering to each other, a Dunnock to my right is belting out its pretty flute-like song and to my left a Robin is happy to join in the singing.  A Great Spotted Woodpecker chips in the distance and a Wren sings loud and proud in the undergrowth.  As we amble up the path in front of us we detect the gentle sound of a Nuthatch in the distance.  Rather than head off to find it we decide to stay on the path for a bit longer.   Nuthatches are very mobile, often high up in the canopy, and if we go looking for one they will doubtless unwittingly outfox us by moving off before we can reach them.

The path is full of wild garlic, ferns and moss. Almost like a temperate rainforest the lower woods are darker, damper and more inclined to encourage moss and lichens.  Last year I spotted a living tree with fern growth and along this path we discover yet another tree full of plant life which merits a photo.  These may look as though they are rotting and dying but they are a haven for small insects, plants, fungi and other species. 

As our path takes us further up the woods towards the light, we reach a 3-way junction which offers a bench, a path up to the limestone pavement or a chance to head back down.  Knowing how the Nuthatches prefer the darker woods, we head down.  Every now and again we hear a Nuthatch call or a song.  We are also aware of a Blackbird alarm call, probably disturbed by our passing, a chak chak of a Magpie, Jackdaws passing high above the canopy and the odd Wood Pigeon flapping out of the woods. 

As the Nuthatch songs and calls persist, we begin to suspect there are at least 2, as one of the songs is very traditional Nuthatch – strong, melodious about 6 notes up and down – whereas the other is what I call Nuthatch on heat. More strident, more repetitive and perhaps a few less notes but still in the same key. 

As we return almost to the bottom of Badgers Wood we turn left onto the path that runs parallel with Church Town and we are thrilled to see a Nuthatch swoop past us busily – barely distracted by our presence.  Knowing how timid they usually are we stop in our tracks and watch and wait.  We are not disappointed.  The Nuthatch lands on an adjacent branch, looks around and then begins to sing.  Loud and clear and not afraid to be seen or heard.  

Jon approaches carefully and is rewarded with a set of great photos of the Nuthatch singing.  Nuthatches are a really pretty bird.  Often hard to spot it is a joy when you get a good view. 

They are blue-grey on top and white below – with a ruddy chestnut colour on the sides and under the tail.  The distinctive black eye stripe and long bill give it a distinguished look despite the short legs.

Within minutes another Nuthatch appears and also begins to sing but out of view.  We suspect this to be the female as her song is also less strident.  We stand for quite some time watching as they fly together, then apart, singing and then quiet.  We can’t help but believe that this is an established couple, enjoying the spring sunshine and preparing to set up home together.

With our mission accomplished we finish off the walk by strolling towards the cabin and then turning right to head down to Church Town road.  Jon spots a clump of Primroses and can’t resist another picture.  It is an ideal way to celebrate spring.

Footnote:  We were intrigued by the origin of the name Nuthatch.  Apparently the name comes from the middle English “nuthak” meaning nut hacker, from its habit of wedging a nut into a crack then repeatedly bashing it with its beak to get into the soft kernel.

Nuthatches primarily eat  insects and other invertebrates in the summer, switching to a diet of nuts and seeds in the winter.

Monday 27 January 2025 9.00 – 10.00 a.m.

Winter has hit us hard this year.  From frozen nights and icy days, to lashing wind, rain and hail, and to days of overcast, damp and cold gloominess.  The rain has come in bucketfuls making channels of water down the slopes of the wood and deep puddles in the crevices.  During those lovely summer days we often talk of how important a good winter is, but when it comes in all its correctness we are reminded of its brutality and wonder how nature can possibly survive.  But survive it does.

Late January brought the first sign of a break in the weather.  Monday the 27^th surprises me with a morning that doesn’t require my neighbours to diligently scrape the ice off their car.  I wake hopeful of an hour of discovery in the woods.  And so it is that as I arrive at the top of the woods and enter the pedestrian access gate which leads to the Horsering Meadow I can already hear bird song.  What a joy.  Blue Tits are flitting around, chatting and trilling as they forage for insects in the tree bark, Robins are perched on the top of the trees singing at the top of their ‘voices’ to mark out their spring territory and a solitary Dunnock is outsinging all of them with its piccolo-like high warble.  Bird experts call it a squeaky little ditty but I think that is rather insulting for the power and joy that the little Dunnock puts into its tuneful song.

Whilst I’m thinking about Dunnocks they are definitely worth a proper mention.  Dunnocks are easily confused with House Sparrows and to add to the confusion are also called Hedge Sparrows.  However they are actually very different birds with very different songs. 

Sparrows, or House Sparrows, are noisy, sociable birds that love to live in groups, darting around and communicating animatedly and constantly. The females and young are pale coloured, light brown and grey whilst the males have stronger black, white and brown markings.  The song of the House Sparrow is very similar to its contact call – the song is a monotonous cheep, chirrup sung by the male to attract a female, whilst the contact call is a simple cheep cheep cheep.  Sadly House Sparrows are now on the endangered list in the U.K., having been driven out of their preferred habitat of urban bushes, brambles and barns due to our drive for tidiness.  House Sparrow boxes with three apertures, plus the added benefit of a bird feeder or two, are wonderful opportunities to re-establish a colony.

Dunnocks on the other hand, whilst being almost identical in size to House Sparrows, are a noticeably duller bird – small brown and grey.  Quiet and shy and often seen on their own or in pairs, they like the top of bramble bushes or the sides of woodland paths.  They tend to live in dense scrub and bramble on the outskirts of the urban environment.  Generally Dunnocks only become visible either to sing loudly from the top of a bush or when two males come together and chase each other around.  In the BET woods Dunnocks, although often hidden, are in good numbers as evidenced by their song, House Sparrows can only be found in the surrounding gardens.

As I pass the Horsering Meadow the wood becomes gloomier but the presence of birds is everywhere.  Male Blackbirds fly out from cover often directly into my path.  Busy sizing up the opposition and preparing for a fight they scurry off aroud the undergrowth and take little notice as I stroll by.  The number of Robins in this area, and in fact throughout the woods, is stunning.  They really are thriving this spring so that it takes me quite a while to reach the Warreners Cottage and then pause to enjoy the Cottage renovations.  Positioned in the tall trees overhead, the Wood Pigeons keep an eye out to see if I have brought any refreshments.  Not this time but they look incredibly rotund and healthy so I’m not too concerned.

I note it is already nearly time to join up with this morning’s workparty.  So I head quickly along and down the paths to meet up with the team at the Cabin.  After a brief early spring visit today I’m so looking forward to real spring in a month or so.  I’m sure there are yet more cold and brutal weather surprises to come but our hardy birds are clearly revelling, just as we do, in a break in the weather and a chance to make a re-appearance.

Monday 18th November  8.45 – 9.30 a.m.

A cold morning’s bird watching whilst sitting on the bench on The Layers meadow..  

A cold but reasonably bright Monday morning and a chance to sit on the bench halfway up The Layers and see what appears.  The Layers is meadow up a steep stepped path to the left of the Cabin.  Previous readers will know that this bench is one of my favourite spots for bird watching.  There is both an abundance of interesting birds and a wonderful view to admire.  And today was no exception.

As I approached and tackled the windy steep steps up to The Layers bench, two Crows raucously announced my arrival.  Whether because of them or by chance, there were no other bird sounds for quite a while, so I settled myself down comfortably and waited.  Slowly calls, twitters and songs started up.  First the Robin, singing high and loud in the scrub to my left, then a Robin alarm call off to my right.  Next a pair of Blue Tits chuntering merrily not to be confused with a pair of Great Tits which arrive in an adjacent tree and sound very similar.  Whilst the Blue Tits flit around the trees the Great Tits are more intent on scrapping the branches for bugs whilst communicating intently.  All of a sudden a Song Thrush flaps angrily out of a nearby bush and flies off in a huff.  Song Thrushes are notoriously shy and retiring so it was either disturbed or it was fed up with me not moving on.  Next a Goldfinch passes high overhead twittering lightly and Jackdaws call out on their way past, heading in the opposite direction.

A Blackbird alarm call sounds off to the left and then a male Blackbird flies hastily out of the bushes.  Blackbirds have steadily increased in numbers in the woods over the last few weeks.  Regular alarm calls, tussles between male Blackbirds, or 3 or 4 male Blackbirds tagging a female Blackbird are all signs that the residents have some newly arrived competition.  Blackbirds are partially migratory within the UK but there is also a good chance they have arrived from Scandinavia and the Baltics or other parts of Europe.  It is almost impossible to tell a resident from an arrival – although there is some talk of a darker bill.

Blackbirds are considered one of the most common birds in the UK and, as such, we possibly take them for granted.  However they have always been one of my favourite birds and long before I became a birder the early evening song of a Blackbird as I walked home from work was always a pleasure.  I would often stop and listen as the bird peddled his up and down melodic chatty song from the top of a TV aerial (I’ve never seen a Sky dish used as an alternative) whilst I waited and wondered from which direction the sound of a reply would come.  It often made me think of detailed messages sent from village to village by drums in forested areas.   

The males, forceful in personality and quite single minded, are dark black with bright yellow beaks and a yellow ring around the eye.  The males are a real contrast to the timid, retiring nature of the largely dark brown female. 

It is not commonly known that Blackbirds are part of the Thrush family and as such their behaviour is similar to that of other Thrushes.  They like stomping the ground and listening out for worms but they are also partial to fruit and insects.  Although they are not traditionally attracted to bird feeders they can be spotted hanging out under a feeder to see what drops.

And so, as I start to feel the chill of the autumn morning, it’s time to head back down to the Cabin.

Saturday 19^th October  9.15 – 10.00 a.m.

Autumn in the woods on a chilly but sunny Saturday morning.  My visit today takes me to the top of Jubilee Stone Wood. I park up, enter via bridleway and head along the permissive path towards the Horsering meadow. 

Water drips off the trees after the heavy rain last night but the promise of a dry sunny day is in the air.  In front of me are some old apple trees laden with small apples and to the left there are Blackberries still left on the bushes.  There is too much fruit for us to make use of so hopefully a stock of winter food for the woodland residents.  A heavy Wood Pigeon is disturbed by my presence and flaps noisily out of one of the apple trees sending water raining down on me.

Whilst I dry off a soggy notebook I hear a Robin singing in the undergrowth close by and Goldfinches twittering and warbling overhead.  A Great Spotted Woodpecker chips then I hear the alarm call of a Blackbird, then a Chiff Chaff warming up its song and a number of Blue Tits communicating as they pass by me flitting through the trees.  It’s wonderful to hear so many sounds of birds again after the long, quiet summer.  In particular it is good to see and hear Blackbirds again.  Some recent arrivals but most just reappearing and establishing their territories and food rights before the winter influx of Redwing and Fieldfare, who come to compete for the winter berries.

I’ve barely reached the Horsering as there is so much activity.  Weekend walkers and their wet dogs are enjoying the early peace and quiet and the chance to stroll without having to rush.  It is a pleasure to see how well behaved and gentle these early riser dogs are as they enjoy the walk, the smells and the fresh air. 

Just as I note a squirrel passing quietly overhead to avoid the attention of the spaniel by my feet, I hear the loud alarm call and see a very fluffy and strident Wren moving up down and around a small tree up ahead. 

Wrens are notable for having one of the loudest alarm calls of the woods and they can be relied on to be the first to complain when an unwanted visitor appears.  With their short brown tail raised, their rattling alarm and, if really fraught, their rapid movement the Wren is guaranteed to catch attention.  They certainly make up for their size and brown colouring with the force of their personalities. 

Wrens are one of our most common birds of the UK and overwinter here generally successfully.  However they have a weakness when it comes to the cold so despite all their feistiness, when cold weather hits, Wrens will sometimes sacrifice their territories to snuggle up and stay warm together.  I was amused to learn that the word wrenne comes from Middle English and means little tail.

The dogs have moved on and so should I so the Wren can get some short-lived peace.  I take a right turn immediately after the Horsering meadow and then another right to head back along the bridleway towards my car.  As I do, a band of Jackdaws pass overhead cackling as they fly in the direction of the quarry, where the sunshine and the rising air will no doubt provide plenty of entertainment.

Time for me to leave for the day and look forward to returning to enjoy plenty more autumn colours and sounds.