The parched summer
lawn is more faded yellow than green, the arid look slightly lessened by
patches of small yellow flowers, a far cry from the manicured but lifeless green carpet we inherited when we moved here two years ago. Looking through the
kitchen window as I potter preparing lunch, I spot a Greenfinch working its way
across the grass, its thick beak nimbly processing seeds to small for me to
see, but immensely reassuring to know that the finch can find.
Greenfinch in a West Norfolk Garden
As I look at this
small bird with its understated green feathers and yellow flash in its wing, I
am for a moment taken back in time to one of my earliest bird memories, to our
tiny north London garden where my mother had hung a red netting bag of peanuts
to feed the birds and I think more importantly to her to feed my evident
interest in all things wild.
This bag of nuts had
initially proved to be a great success attracting a procession of Greenfinches over
the fence and into our garden from the over grown garden.
But then Monty
discovered the joys of watching the Greenfinches in our garden. Indeed I think
is fair to say with hindsight that Monty was even keener on watching the birds
on the feeder than I was. Monty was what these days folk are want to call part of the family, back in the early
70's we simply called him a pet. Monty was our slightly mangy Tom cat, black
all over apart from a slight wisp of white hairs under his chin, and Monty took
a real shine to the Greenfinches on the red netting feeder. And so over the course
of a week or so the ground under the feeder had a fall of beautiful green and
yellow feathers land on it, as Monty worked his way through the flock with a
surprising efficiency.
As I looked out on our
Norfolk garden lawn it was gratifying to see not only the Greenfinch feeding on
the grass but also Woodpigeons, Blackbirds and a Dunnock and remembering the
visits by Green Woodpeckers, a bird of such exotic appearance that the child
looking out on that North London garden couldn't even have dreamed of seeing one.
Why do these birds grace
us with their presence? Well in part it is because we have provided some of the
things that they need, cover to dash into if a predator should appear, a source
of food; seeds for the finches, ants for the Green Woodpeckers, and worms and
caterpillars for the Blackbirds.
Looking out of the
upstairs window the estate we live on looks less inviting to birds than it
could do, there are few mature trees and hedges, there are some patches of
lawn, but a lot of lifeless paved areas too. But in short, if you try and think like a
Blackbird or a Greenfinch it is nowhere nearly as attractive as it could be and
gardens like ours are welcome Oasis where birds come to feed. And for us it's
a simple investment in pleasure, the pleasure that comes from sharing our lives
with these birds, seeing them and hearing their songs.
The Greenfinch looks
settled, so I rush and grab my camera, I ease open the kitchen window and
gingerly poke the long lens through the gap and grab a few shots. Greenfinches really
are such smart birds, I can see with clarity even after all these years why they
captivated the younger me.
But it's a work day
and lunch is ready and after grabbing a few shots, I return to the kitchen
table to eat and think about that tiny north London garden half a century and a
lifetime ago.
