I’m a natural optimist – you have to be to go to sea, of course – but this morning as I stepped into the garden I admitted that I was confronted with a boring, utterly dismal scene on a dark, rain-splattered, sopping truly miserable day.
|High flyers ... Birds migrate across vast distances, yet you won't find one carrying a modern GPS, not even a mobile phone with a fancy application. And yet - somehow - they accomplish what humans can't without at least a sextant and the Nautical Almanac. Photo by daniyal ghanavati from Pexels and many thanks to Daniyal and Pexels|
Then my heart gave a leap of pleasure as I was surrounded suddenly by flocks, actual crowds and crowds of minute birds.
And not just the garden birds I feed daily, but an astonishing collection of foreigners who obviously don’t care about the new government’s feelings over non-Brits.
The hedge that moments before had been prompting me for a belated trim now became the feeding ground for a bright variety of winter arrivals, tucking into aphid-like bugs, and enjoying the fruit from a branch that I purposely let grow as if it might be a tree.
So straight to Uncle Google to learn more about the very welcome visitors.
The hungry arrivals
I was directed to authority Doug Shapley, a conservation adviser for the Woodland Trust.
His article identifies very clearly the hungry arrivals, robins, chaffinches, bramblings and finches, plus a few more which were rather too quick on the wing for identification.
It seemed a miracle that they would turn up on such a miserable winter’s morning, particularly after the astonishing distance that these tiny critters travelled.
No Ryanair, EasyJet, or Flybe for them with movies and music and attractive hostesses bringing refreshments. If they want to travel – or are driven to – and from faraway places like Scandinavia, Russia and continental Europe, they must do it themselves, and astonishingly by instinct.
Little musical wonders
|Sweet tweets ... These amazing critters need no link to Twitter or gadgetry to offer all humans the most welcome tweets on a winter's day. Photo by Andree Brennan from Pexels and many thanks to Andree and Pexels|
How do you know what sea you’re crossing, or if you are, and which is the right land for you? The price for faulty navigation is death.
And yet they do it successfully, though I know from my own voyaging that many do get lost over an ocean and land very gratefully on the deck, but seldom survive.
Here they are, though, in the garden, trimming the number of insect pests, passing on seeds of winter propagators, brightening up human lives and filling our ears with the most magical of notes.
Who could loathe winter after that?
I believe in a positive approach but, yes, well, perhaps I’ll modify the question to who could loathe winter so much thanks to these, well, highly welcome un-government documented immigrants, these courageous, astonishingly gifted natural navigators.
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