There was an explosion from the grass ahead of me. A flock of birds lifted off with palpable frustration. I was just another person out on a stroll that strayed too close, leading to another abandoned feeding operation. They powered off down the park with “tseep tseep” calls, sounding like a gang of kids on bikes with squeaky wheels. My first view of redwings is usually their back-ends as they hightail it away from the annoying humans.
The nomads arrrive
I have not seen many of these winter visitors on my local patch in previous years. But while the mistle thrushes have been largely absent, these distinctive birds from the thrush family have moved in. Redwings start arriving in the UK in October, often migrating at night. Only a tiny population breed in the Scottish Highlands but over a million come here from Iceland, the Faroes and Scandinavia. They rarely return to the same destination for their winter holidays, which may explain their sudden abundance this year; last year these birds enjoyed the berries and worms on someone else’s patch.
Identifying redwings
My favourite description of these birds, which is also particularly useful if you are trying to identify one, is by Matt Sewell in his book Our Garden Birds:
“Redwing looks like a thrush that mistook a can of red spray-paint for his deodorant and headed out for the day”.
Have a close look at the image below. I think you will agree that it perfectly sums up this bird’s appearance.
I feel fortunate to have captured them on my trail camera – foraging for food without realising they are being watched – but opportunities for photographing these birds have proved elusive. Recent dark days have made them hard to spot in the trees and on the ground until I am already upon them. By then, the damage is done; these blushing beauties have already flushed.
A winter sun destination
It was the same story walk after walk until the snow fell. I left the flat as the sky began to disappear, smothered by an iron-grey blanket, feeling hopeful for striking images of wildlife in a blizzard. I was not disappointed, on the blizzard front at least. By the time I got into the park, large snowflakes were swirling. I desperately searched for something to point my camera at. Nothing. Not a peep from a tree or bush. Not a hint of a splash from the river. I reached the end of the path, the blanket lifted, and the first rays of sunlight began to break through.
While staring upwards and mentally shaking my fist at the sky, I flushed them. A flock of redwings appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared just as quickly into the trees up ahead. I knew – however stealthy my approach – they would probably keep moving on. While I stopped a short distance away to watch them watching me, the sun burnt the last clouds away and bathed the snow-covered park in warm sunlight. In the tree, the flock stopped moving. Carefully I moved a few steps closer, then a few steps more.
It turns out that sunbathing and preening had supplanted getting away from me on their list of priorities, and there they perched while I clicked the shutter. They soaked up the warmth while I soaked up a rare moment with these sun-worshipping tourists. A few minutes later, a dog walker arrived and, with that, the redwings were across the river, their contact calls becoming fainter by the minute.
Redwings and the Red List
Redwings were on the Red List of the Birds of Conservation Concern, which reviews the status of all regularly occurring birds in the UK, Channel Islands and the Isle of Man and is compiled by a coalition of the UK’s leading bird conservation and monitoring organisations. In the 2021 review, the species was downgraded to Amber, owing to less severe declines in the breeding population, but it will probably remain close to the Red List threshold.
I am glad to have welcomed these winter tourists to my local patch. Having them brighten up my daily walks on dreary days means I will dearly miss their flush of blush when they depart in Spring.