Derwent May - Life on the Wing: A Bird Chronicle from the pages of The Times

Redwing

It was followed rapidly by another, then another, and suddenly the whole sky to the north of the churchyard was filled with redwings flying about in their wild, erratic way. The sun was low in the sky behind me but its rays were strong and fell directly on the flying birds. So the bright red feathers under the wings of these wintering thrushes all shone out brilliantly as the flock whirled around above the sunlit landscape.

It was a spectacular sight while it lasted. I could not help feeling that Yarrell must have seen it sometimes in the winter, and that he would have been glad to know that the birds were still performing above his tomb, more than 150 years after he died.

Four blackbirds have been coming on to the lawn in my garden to eat the food that I have been throwing down for them.

One is a handsome male, jet black with a bright yellow bill and a yellow ring round his eye that gives him a wide-eyed, startled look. Another is an adult female, with very consistent dark-brown plumage except for some paler feathers under her chin. Then there are two younger birds: a young, black male that can be distinguished by the dark-brown ends of his wings and his duller yellow beak, and what I suppose is a young female, brown with a very mottled breast like swirling muddy water.

I think they are a family from last summer, though there is no evident family feeling between them. In fact, watching their relationships is very interesting. If the adult male comes down first, he seems to regard himself as owner of the garden, and flies fiercely at the next comer. The intended victim generally dodges him and stays, and the others follow it down. After that the owner shows no interest in the other birds until they come near him.

However, if the adult female lands on the lawn first, she seems to take the view of herself that the adult male did of himself and moreover he now seems to share that view. I see him sitting on the fence looking down at her very warily and, sure enough, as soon as he drops down onto the lawn she flies at him. She is now the owner.

Nevertheless, before long they are all feeding in the garden together again. They tuck in eagerly but repeatedly pause to look round the garden and up at the sky for fear of enemies.

The young ones are less aggressive, but they too will sometimes try to chase another of the party away. In fact, between them, they spend a lot of time quarrelling and leaving the food unattended. A song thrush comes down occasionally, and once I saw the adult female fly at it, and land at the end of the garden. The thrush just flew nimbly over her head, picked up the very crumb she had been eating and fled with it. The blackbirds attack had just been self-harming.

Why do blackbirds behave like this? In the short term it clearly does them no good. The answer must be that in the long term their aggressiveness serves them, and that all in all they live better the more aggressive they are. Still, you often feel like shouting at one of them: Stop it, you idiot!