The temptation on the start of a new birdwatching year is to hurl yourself into one of those Big Birdwatching Count days. I can't think of a much less pleasurable way of going out birdwatching but the temptation is real. Luckily for me there's no public transport round here so a more chilled approach is imposed on me. I'll try not to get giddy tomorrow.
The last bird of 2022 was a singing robin so it's only right and proper that the first bird of 2023 was a singing robin. It was nice to have an early visit from the pair of coal tits though my heart was in my mouth when it looked like they were going to try to bully a squirrel off the sunflower seed feeder. It came as a relief when they flew back over to the dog rose for a spot of courting. The spadgers set up camp in the Pyracantha bush with a lot of to-ing and fro-ing from the main bases in the steamroller's garden and the embankment brambles. Aside from that it was a pretty laid-back start to the birdwatching year on a surprisingly mild and not too damp day.
The school playing field was quiet today, just a maximum of 19 black-headed gulls and three herring gulls. Even the magpies were in single figures. The rest were probably sleeping off the effects of last night's rolling fireworks bombardment.
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