I’m very relived at the moment that Chateau Hutchins is situated on a hill. Just about every metrologically possible form of water has fallen from the heavens this morning. The paddocks have all turned into wetland bogs, it’s only a matter of time before the Bitterns move in, the largest of our three ponds has burst its banks and overflowed across the adjacent land and Bourne Brook at the bottom of our hill has turned into a lake covering the adjacent fields and what remains of the winter corn crop. This is certainly one of the wettest and muddiest winters I can remember and my feelings about January 2021, compounded by lockdown 3.0, are well summed up by this witty ditty by Brian Bilston.
Thirty days has September, April, June and November
Unless a leap year is its fate, February has twenty-eight
All the rest have three days more, excepting January, which has six thousand, one hundred and eighty-four
Never have I so looked forward to turning the page on my calendar as I have this month!
Birding year to date has been very limited and local. The abundance of winter Thrushes locally has been a highlight and kept me well entertained. I have been out and about exploring the local countryside further looking for good bird habitat. I’ve discovered that the National Trust’s Croome estate is just 30 minutes’ walk from home. This offers a varied habitat of farmland, small ponds, woodland and open grassland which I have explored on foot. The birding highlight was the 15 minutes I spent watching a pair of Raven’s restlessly moving from one location to another as they were disturbed by other walkers.
St. Peters Church is 50 meters or so up the hill from us. Our house is just one of three adjacent to the church with the rest of the small hamlet of Pirton half a mile or so down the hill. Around the church are signs of previous occupancy dating from the time of the plague, i.e. around 1650, when the whole village moved from around the church down the hill to its current location. The overgrown ruined area is the current home of an overwintering Chiffchaff. On one recent sunny break in the weather the Chiffchaff was signing a very muted and almost begrudging version of its rather monotonous chiff – chaff song. The trees in the same area host a Tawney Owl which I have heard many times but so far not seen.
Yesterday I drove just 3 miles to Worcester Wildlife Trusts Tiddesley wood. From the small carpark the path takes you through a mature apple orchard and into the wood. There were still lots of decaying apples under the trees which had attracted a flock of Fieldfares. Fruit tends of ferment when it decays and I pondered on whether these Nordic winter visitors were having a little tipple to keep them warm through the coming long wet winter night. I’ve read of Waxwings getting quite intoxicated and unsteady on their feet after eating fermenting berries so I guess the same should apply in this case.
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The wood itself was hard going with all paths except the main tarmacked path very deep in sticky clay mud. The wood is quite young and bird activity was fairly limited but the trip was again made worthwhile when I was treated to the spectacle of a displaying Raven, something I have read about but never seen. Ravens are one of the first UK resident bird to breed, starting to nest in late winter, and are typically monogamous in nature selecting a mate for life. The aerobatic display includes sudden rolls and wing-tucked dives. I was first alerted to the presence of a Raven by an odd call, not the normal jarring loud korrp that I’ve heard many times before but what I would describe as an odd knocking or even clucking sound. A Raven then shot across the canopy in front of me, climbed steeply, tucked both wings in and did a mid-air roll - wow absolutely mesmerising! I was treated to a few more aerobatics before it disappeared from view behind the trees accompanied by its slowly fading clucking call – what an absolute privilege and proof if ever needed that nature will always deliver an uplift when you most need it.
I have set up a trail cam in an attempt to discover who is churning up the horse muck heap at night in search of worms. My prime suspects were either a Badger or a Fox. The trail cam has revealed the latter to be the culprit and he has been caught on a number of occasions walking by the cam.
The advantage of forgetting to take the trail cam down is that it captures those precious
family moments that would otherwise be lost to prosperity. So here to finish is one such unforgettable moment.
Footnote – my blogs are posted with sometimes rather imaginative spelling and grammar due to my extreme dyslexia!
Enjoyable read Jim. Don't be too disheartened by the January blues. You could be stuck in Bicester!
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