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Juvenile goldfinch

Today's little jaunt was a reconnaissance of the first half of a self-evidently impracticable and unfeasible journey to see if it was impracticable and unfeasible. Spoiler: it is impracticable and unfeasible. On the plus side, the train journey between Manchester and Glossop is charming but if you're windy about heights you might not want the window seat.

Approaching Dinting on the Glossop train

I came home to a garden full of damp birds as the downpour dialled down to mere drizzle. A pair of robins and a wren were washing in the bird bath (which I would have thought a tad redundant in the weather). Half a dozen young spadgers were on the seed feeder over by the rowan tree and a great tit and a blue tit were feeding on the one near the house until they were evicted by the squirrel. I don't mind the squirrel taking a fair share of the seeds but I do mind the little beggar wrecking the feeders. I've gaffer taped the base of this feeder, it takes the hairy hooligan a couple of days to chew its way through to empty the seed all over the flowerbed.

The usual pair of goldfinches have brought in yet another youngster. They don't produce many at a time but this is the fourth brood this year.