Four hours later, I was huddled under a tree with other birders, sheltering from cold rain on a damp, dreary residential street in Mundesley, Norfolk. A Nutcracker feeding on beech mast in a front garden had sparked a massive twitch.
I suspect the Nutcracker would top a poll of birders’ most wanted species. This resident, non-migratory bird usually inhabits the vast northern taiga conifer forests, from Scandinavia through northern Europe and Siberia to Japan. Its sedentary nature makes it less prone to vagrancy than migratory species. But there is one big exception: very occasionally, a poor nut harvest combined with population growth triggers an irruption. To put its rarity into perspective, the last major irruption brought an astonishing 350 Nutcrackers to the UK—in 1968!
This year, birders have been hoping for a repeat, encouraged by reports of large numbers of Nutcrackers in the Low Countries, far from their usual taiga habitat. Surely one would make the short hop across the water? To everyone’s delight, one did, settling in Mundesley, Norfolk, on Saturday morning.
Heavy rain and blustery winds on the drive down made conditions less than ideal for birds and birders alike—to put it mildly.
I arrived at 3pm with about two hours of good light left to see the bird. It soon became clear that at least one sighting reported by the bird services was mistaken: the Nutcracker had not been seen for over four hours. Despondency hung over the birders huddled beneath the garden trees lining the pavement. Only the occasional pigeon—not renowned for its intelligence—braved the weather. After an hour, the damp chill had seeped into my bones, and I seriously considered retreating to the car to warm up.
Thank all the saints I stayed: shortly afterwards, a commotion up the road could mean only one thing—the Nutcracker had been spotted! I rushed over, but it had already disappeared behind a building. Moments later, it flew overhead and landed in a garden fir tree a few feet away. It dropped to the ground, just one or two metres from the nearest birders, and began feeding on beech mast. Then it moved onto tree stumps and a garage roof, giving the birding phrase “showing well” a whole new meaning. After posing for photographs, it disappeared behind the house again. The crowd’s despondency instantly gave way to broad smiles, hugs and high fives. If we could have bottled that atmosphere, I’m sure it would have been 99% endorphins.
The Northern Nutcracker belongs to the crow family, Corvidae. Of the five recognised nutcracker species, it is the only one recorded in the UK. Slightly smaller than a Jay but with a much larger bill, it has predominantly chocolate-brown plumage marked with distinct white spots and patches. Its wings and upper tail are black with a greenish-blue gloss.
Within its usual range, it feeds mainly on pine seeds. Its distinctive forked tongue has two long, pointed tips with hard, nail-like surfaces formed from keratin, thought to help it handle and shell conifer seeds.
At around 5.15pm, still buzzing from what may have been my best UK birding experience, I escaped the cold for the long but happy drive home. I arrived exhausted and expected to sleep soundly, but my Nutcracker high kept me awake for much of the night!
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