View From The Shed by Volunteer Shaun - PRETTY GREEN

PRETTY GREEN

Depending on your age and musical preference, you might know this week’s title as either a song by The Jam or a clothing brand originated by Liam Gallagher (though it’s now been purchased outright by J. D. Sports). You might not be aware of either, and that’s fine too. It’s irrelevant really. A title is required and I only used this one because I like to make mention of music or films as a bit of fun for myself. In the context of a birdy blog like this one I’m referring to a small handful of birds that we see in my local Dearne Valley that are particularly pretty. And green.

I’m fascinated by bird etymology, how they got their names and how those names have evolved over the years. Some birds have names that go so far back that our 21st century minds can’t even guess at where they came from. We just don’t have the social references that the name’s originators were pointing at.

And then there are others where the name is so simple that even a child can see how it came about. Blackbird is an obvious common example. The Lesser and Great Black-Backed Gulls are others. They’re gulls with black backs and one is bigger than the other. And then there’s the Greenfinch. It’s green and it comes from the family of birds that calls, “Finch! Finch!”. Listen to a Chaffinch, that’s exactly what they say.

You might not know what a Greenfinch looks like but, if you have even the smallest bird knowledge, then you’ll be able to work it out. You know what a Chaffinch looks like, right? Or a Bullfinch maybe? Well  imagine one of those chunky chappies and mentally paint it. You can guess which colour. 

Their numbers rose steadily in the latter half of the last century, increasing along with the human population and our propensity to feed our feathered friends. But in the 2000’s they’ve been decimated by a parasitic disease called Trichomonosis, also known as Finch Pox. It’s thought that the parasite was spread by birds congregating at feeding stations so you can help by making sure that your bird feeders are kept clean. Thank you. It seems to be in control now but we can all do our bit.

I’ve written a lot about migration in these blogs and with good reason, it’s a fascinating subject, but your average Greenfinch would squawk indignantly at the idea of such a journey. They are the very definition of a ‘home bird’, as most of them never travel more than four miles from the place where they hatched. They have no reason to. Everything an individual Greenfinch needs to survive can usually be found in the same area that its parents lived, and their parents before them. Nature provides, even if sometimes that ‘nature’ is in the form of a birdfeeder. Of all the finch species the Greenfinch is the one that’s least bothered by human presence. Just have a look in Old Moor’s Garden Hide for evidence.

Being green is great camouflage for a bird that spends a lot of its time fluttering around woodland, be it ancient or a man-made park. But it’s perhaps not so great if you’re a bright and gaudy species who’s more at home in a bright and gaudy jungleland but hasn’t evolved to blend in with Britain’s more muted environment.

That was certainly the case for the lone Ring-Necked Parakeet that turned up at St Aiden’s RSPB reserve at the end of last year. The local birdwatchers watched this showy bird in delight as it happily swooped over their wetlands. But their delight soon turned to horror as this particularly conspicuous individual was plucked from the air and devoured by an opportunistic Peregrine. That Falcon had obviously been taught to eat his greens (sorry, I couldn’t resist).

Greenfinches (and the occasional visitor) aren’t the only birds of a verdant plumage that you might find around these parts though. Back in the year fifteen hundred or so you might have seen a Barley Bird around here. In later centuries you could have spotted a Black-Headed Thistle Finch or an Aberdevine. A hundred years ago you may have found yourself looking at a Tea Leaf, a marvellous name based on somebody’s interpretation of its call. You can still see all these birds today, for they’re all the same species. They’re now more usually called Siskin, and we’ve recently been home to a flock of around a dozen at Old Moor, hanging around the feeders and the entrance to the reserve.

They’re much smaller than a Greenfinch - perhaps the size of a Goldfinch or a Blue Tit -  and much less populous. At best we have half a million breeding pairs, compared with approximately two million Greenfinches. That might sound a lot but it pales beside the 68 million people that inhabit our islands. Think of those numbers next time you hear the RSPB saying that we desperately need to give nature a home. 

Unlike the Greenfinch the little Siskins do migrate. We have a healthy breeding population here in the UK but their numbers are boosted in the colder months by visitors from the European mainland. They’re gregarious creatures too, teaming up in small flocks and good-naturedly squabbling within their groups and with any other bird that they come into contact with. There’s rarely any proper violence (unlike, say, between Robins) but they could never be described as secretive. Colour-wise they’re predominantly green with yellow streaks, like a lemon tinged Greenfinch, but there’s plenty of black marks smudged through their plumage too. Throw in a black cap and mask like a minimalist version of a Reed Bunting’s and you have yourself a Siskin. Gorgeous. 

So if you want to Go Green, now’s your chance. Come and see them for yourself at Old Moor. They won’t be here when the weather starts to get warmer. If it ever does…