Ahead of her first official Big Garden Birdwatch, Eilidh Summers has been practicing her survey technique and welcoming wildlife into her home. Fortunately for us, she’s written a blog about her experience, which acts as a fantastic guide on ‘How to Big Garden Birdwatch’.
No Garden, Big or otherwise, and very little Birdwatch-ing experience. Nevertheless, I’m doing a Big Garden Birdwatch this year. Not for an assignment or because my parents were nagging me about screen time. This is because I think that maybe I’ll enjoy it, and that’s the best reason to do something.
Running for 43 years, Big Garden Birdwatch is a labour of love. Last year, over a million people worked together to count 17 million birds, contributing to the understanding of our bird populations. Citizen science projects like this harness the power of ordinary people for larger and more widespread data collection than scientists alone could ever manage, and without it, our knowledge of ecology and conservation would be much lesser. The Birdwatch asks that you spend one hour counting the birds in your garden or local park, then submit your findings with a simple form and you’ll have participated in the world’s largest wildlife survey.
Preparation
Step one is to work on the set-up. I live in Edinburgh, so the kitchen window in my flat looks out onto an environmentally challenged street and the single determined weed climbing up the far wall is not enough to attract any feathered friends. Luckily, my bedroom window looks out onto the edges of a small park, where a couple of sycamore trees manage to entertain some grey squirrels.
Approximately 27 seconds of staring out onto that small patch of grass and trees showed no signs of birds of any species coming to entertain me. Clearly birds these days expect some sort of reciprocal relationship.
The joy of creation
Good news! There’s a creative element to birdwatching. Whilst I don’t have any fancy birdfeeders or seed mixes handily available, I do have the internet, and there’s lots of designs available:
A homemade birdfeeder made from an apple;
A pine cone bird feeder;
Feeders made out of cardboard tubes, orange peel and yoghurt pots
Making one of these is perfectly adequate, but I was procrastinating something, so I made them all.
Carboard bird feeders are easy to make but can be very effective. Photo by Emma Pocklington.
Bird feeder creation: tips and side notes
Tip: for the apple feeder, it is tempting to use that leftover apple you’ve abandoned over the holidays. You know, the one that’s become old, wrinkled, and jaded. This choice, be warned, has consequences. This beautiful piece of art (below) spit juice in my eye during coring, then began to split when I added the seeds.
My homemade apple and sunflower seed bird feeder.
Warning! The orange bird feeder recipe is a trick – it only uses the peel, so you have to actually eat the orange.
Side note: the pinecone recipe needs lard, both to stick the seeds onto the feeder, and as a tasty treat. I used the lard I stole from my parents’ fridge and then brought back on the three-hour train journey, but store-bought is fine.
Important! Some foods are not suitable for garden birds, such as mouldy bread and peanuts from unreliable sources. Check the guidance for the ideal bird snacks.
Preparation cont.
The internet informs me that birds take a wee while to get used to new bird feeders and so I hang them outside and give it a week. The optimal place is off the beaten track and out of reach of cats.
I try very hard not to look before the day – no spoilers.
The main event (!)
This project is for scienceTM, but I also want to enjoy it, and so I make myself comfortable. For the perfect view of my feeders, I’m sitting on the windowsill, with a cushion and a blanket for ultimate cosiness. For the ambience, I’ve lit a scented candle and found a crackling fire video on YouTube. There is a cup of tea beside me, as well as a small (read large) slab of chocolate. Perfect.
First to show up is the…
*Hurriedly retrieves the helpful bird ID chart I received when I signed up*
An essential tool for Big Garden Birdwatchers.
First to show up is the blackbird, who takes a fondness to the fruit selection. The species is not immediately obvious because this particular individual is female and very clearly brown in colour.
Female blackbirds are..... not black. Photo by Richard Bowler
Also present is the classic woodpigeon and some grey squirrels. It immediately becomes apparent that birdwatching is worth it for the pigeon vs squirrel drama alone.
The next species to arrive is a very strange and mystical one. When I was a child growing up in the rural Scottish Highlands, I didn’t even believe these birds really existed. In stories, they would fly around in magnificent black, white, and iridescent plumage, and steal valuable rings and other jewellery. Completely fantastical. There was no way magpies actually existed.
Magpies are surprisingly common in Edinburgh, for birds that don't exist. Photo by Mike Lane.
…It was pretty embarrassing to visit the big city for the first time.
Scattering extra seeds on the ground turns out to have been a good idea, because once the larger birds have barged in, there’s a chance for the smaller species, who can balance more easily on the feeders themselves. In comes one individual rocking the salmon pink look. A bold choice, but it works for him – garden birds say no to cringe culture.
Chaffinches are one of our more colourful garden visitors. Photo by Eric Woods.
Hopping along the tree branches and fluttering around the feeders, a couple of little brown birds refuse to stay still for identification. I consult the charts, and discover that I am a Gemini, and it is an ideal time for me to pursue solo endeavours. I then consult the bird ID charts, but I still cannot tell if they are sparrows or dunnocks.
The internet taught me more. Apparently, there’s a lot of ‘Little Brown Jobs’ (LBJs) out there which are difficult to tell apart. My options expand to include wrens, female chaffinches, greenfinches, pipits, twite, and particularly scruffy robins. Though with some deductive reasoning, I do rule out the Australasian Reedwarbler.
Watching a bird's behaviour is often key to identification - dunnocks are often lonesome and shy. Photo by David Broadbent.
Late to the party, some crows show up, more charming than I’ve ever remembered them being. Then, surprisingly quickly, the hour is up. Five identified species! The enigmatic LBJ is bugging me though. Next time, I must borrow binoculars off someone.
The timer has been turned off and just then movement catches my eye. From behind a tree, as bold as you like, out walks a starling...
I have never been so offended in my life.
Official Big Garden Birdwatch rules state that birds counted after the hour shouldn't be recorded. But this is just a practice so....
Final thoughts:
And after everything, it was so nice to join in with a group project and work together towards something. In Big Garden Birdwatch, you can join in and be as social, or as solitary, as you like. Everyone’s contribution helps us to advance our understanding of the nature around us. And the more we know, the better we can support our local wildlife.
Birdwatching can be tremendous fun by yourself, but plenty of groups exist for those looking for a social experience. Photo by Paul Sawer.
You can sign up for this year’s Big Garden Birdwatch by visiting our website.
Cover photo: David Broadbent