I can well understand why small beings like blackbirds need to keep stoking up with fresh food supplies. Not only are there chicks to feed, but our spring days persist on the frosted side of chilly. He who is currently casting his own coping stones for the terrace wall tells me that the high pressure over the Atlantic and low pressure to the north and east is causing Arctic air to be sucked down upon us, thus creating the UK’s coldest May in five years.
And the upshot: the winds that the weather people have been telling us are ‘fresh’ have been, and continue to be bone piercingly frigid. Nor does it help that our street is aligned due north, thus greatly facilitating the funnelling of icy blasts to our doorstep.
In consequence we’re still in winter woollies. Also, we’ve continued to keep the hedge bird feeder well stocked with fat balls, this on the grounds that the sparrows et al still need energy for gathering food for their young. They’ve certainly been getting through them.
Out in the garden the blackbirds have other strategies. This male blackbird starts chivvying me the moment he spots me. If I don’t respond at once, he moves in very close, finding a perch whence he can fix me with those beady eyes. And if this still doesn’t receive the desired response, he starts shouting.
And I must say, I do feel a touch affronted – to let myself be bullied by a small bird.
But needs must. The other day when I started earthing up the potatoes, both mister and missus swooped in, combing through the disturbed soil, chuntering in tones of unalloyed blackbird ecstasy. I have yet to spot exactly how they manage to hoover up quite so many small worms in one beak full. It all happens so fast.
[Spoiler alert: not for the squeamish.]
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This morning I spotted the male in the apple tree, not far from my left ear. As ever he gave me the eye. The rain had moved in and I was late on parade. But today it seemed he’d managed to gather his worms without my intervention. More surprising though, he also managed to give me song without opening his beak. No worm was lost.
Songs for worms, I thought. Fair exchange.
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Copyright 2026 Tish Farrell
Nature is amazing Tish!
It is, Anne!
Lovely post Tish. Blackbird company in the garden is a nice distraction from the chore of weeding. I used to have a Robin getting under my feet as well but I guess the one in garden is a different fellow.
The wind is cold here too but in sheltered sunny spots it’s really pleasant.
By the way I trashed my last post and re-did it. I noticed your comment but cannot reply but thanks for looking.
Always happy to pop into your place, Brian.