Official: The LEAST Christmassy Birds

 It’s Christmas time, there’s no need to be afraid. Yes, ya boi is back on the blog isn’t he. In a blog from a couple of years ago, I put forward a case for a number of British birds to be regarded higher with respects to Christmas. Penguins and robins are boring anyway, so why not have some alternatives? If you haven’t read that blog, go back and quickly read it. Now. QUICK.

Ok welcome back. Good, wasn’t it? Anyway enough of that nonsense, I’m channeling my inner grinch and wondering; what are the LEAST Christmassy birds? Which species evoke little to no festive cheer and deserve no place on the mantelpiece in December? Disclaimer, I’m not saying these birds are terrible or should be ridiculed in any way, they’re just not the type that you’d find made into a bauble or stitched into a sweater. Let’s ho ho go…

SWIFT

Unless you live below the Sahara, you’ll be unlikely to see one of these sky-dancers at this time of year. After all, Africa doesn’t even know it’s Christmas at all… right? Swifts are synonymous with clear blue sunny skies and screaming as they skim your rooftop. They’re hardly representative of the usually dour winter weather we’re acclimatised to. If a swift ever saw a snowflake, it would probably have a panic attack. Pop a swift in your nativity scene? Rogue choice.

BEE EATER

They may be adorned in multi-colour plumage and they do dazzle like tinsel but they are the LAST thing you’d consider when pondering Yule-tide. Despite their increasing presence across the UK, replacing them in place of partridges is a step too far. A romantic ideal Christmas involves gentle snowfall, so a bird invading the country owing to climate change is a big middle finger to all things mid-winter. Big NO.

CARRION CROW

The red of Santa, the green of holly and the white of snow; all quintessential Christmas colour palettes. It comes as no surprise that a bird draped in black from talon to bill is miles from being associated with the festive period. At a time all about new life and spending time with family, carrion crows just kill the mood. You can forgive jays or magpies for being ever-so-slightly more jolly but their monochrome cousins can’t make the cut. They should just stick to Halloween, they’re banned from owning two separate holidays.

GOSHAWK

These absolute units should be admired at all times of the year, that’s a fact. Sadly, as endearing as those piercing eyes and gruesome talons are, they’re not the most merry of birds. Just imagine one of their plucking posts, adorned with feathers and limbs of its prey, with a giant adult female stood proudly with wings aloft over a merciless carcass. Awesome, right? But the year you put that on a Christmas card is the last year you’ll expect one in return. Sorry guys, goshawks aren’t Christmassy.

HERRING GULL

It’s actually ridiculous to even think about how these guys can be remotely festive. They’re gregarious chip-guzzlers that are synonymous with childhood trips to the coast, not singing along to Mariah. Despite having appropriately-coloured plumage and being widely found across December in Britain, they give off such an unchristmassy vibe. Unless you traditionally spend Christmas in Brighton, herring gulls should have no part to play on the big day.

There are plenty of winters birds that tick a lot of festive boxes but these species certainly fall short. Are there any others that I’ve missed? Do let me know…

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

THE TRIMINGHAM BEE EATERS - REASONS TO BE CHEERFUL?

Picture the scene; it’s the 20th of July. It’s a day after the UK has sweltered under near 40°c heat. Every blade of grass in sight is tinged in parched brown whilst thunderstorms roll across the distant horizon. You recall, you get the picture. This was the day I begged to be driven from South to North Norfolk in the hope of ticking off a lifer. An hour and a half later, arriving at what was essentially a dusty field, doubt crept into my mind. What if the conditions aren’t right? What if they’re too far away? What if they’ve already left? Do I have enough battery in my camera? (I didn’t.) As we trekked under the imposing sun along a dirt path, the sweat beads that dripped were not solely reserved for the conditions. We greeted a studious volunteer with the traditional blue of the RSPB and asked the hallowed question: Where can we see the bee eaters?

‘Oh, they’re just over there’, he said.

He wasn’t wrong. Over there they were.

One sat on a telegraph wire alongside a flock of goldfinches, as if it were part of the furniture. Another flitted from beyond the hedgerow to their quarry-cavity cubbyhole. The weather that day not far off the Mediterranean, fitting really. These birds had become minor celebrities and unlike most rarities, they were obliging. Dancing against the azure skies in pursuit of their buzzing prey, chirruping away to one another as if this was a perfectly normal spot to call home. It wasn’t a tropical riverbank, it was a sandy cliff surrounded by brambles and machinery. The relative mundane East Anglian backdrop perfectly contrasting with these gloriously bold birds. (I’m allowed to say this, I’m Norfolk born and bred.) The golden question really is, can we enjoy it?

The obvious answer on paper is yes, duh. An incredibly rare bird nesting successfully in the UK? It’s the stuff of dreams for conservationists, surely? However, if we want to throw reality in the mix, it is an indicator of what future summers will look like. As our climate becomes more akin to the south of Spain, Mediterranean species will follow. It’s one thing for more sightings to be noted but for bee eaters to feel so at home that they actually decide to stay, that does create question marks. If it was a one off, we could perhaps treat it as a unique anomaly, but with recording breeding attempts in 2014, 2015, 2017 and now 2022, that’s what we can safely call a trend. There had only been four records in the 50 years prior to this. Getting warm much?

The fact is that continental shifts are happening not just in UK bird species but in flora and fauna across the globe. Bee eaters just so happen to be poster boys for this, given their flamboyant style. Earlier flowering trees are triggering insects to emerge sooner, meaning food webs are becoming out of sync for their predators. This is just one of many ecological catastrophes on our doorstep, alongside our favourite wasp assassins. Not to undermine the situation, but branding bee eaters as the harbingers of global warming feels a bit like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted. It is a genuine worry that shouldn’t be swept under the carpet, but what can we do about it?

To play devils advocate for the devils advocate, and go right back to where I started, but bee eaters are just awesome. There was not one birder that visited Trimingham that was underwhelmed upon laying eyes on these glorious migrants. As a collaborative event that drew nature lovers from all corners of the nation, it was quite the summer. For the critics of promoting a bird that symbolises a slowly boiling planet, one could argue the heightened media attention was a valuable PR exercise. As much as it was glorifying a rare species, there’s much to be said about the conversation it spawned regarding climate change. There’s a reason why this blog is being written in the first place. I always say the most powerful weapon in modern conservation is education, so there’s no harm is spreading the word.

At the most simple level, it was an amazing afternoon for me. A truly memorable sighting in my home county, it couldn’t have been much better. Following so many holidays to Spain, it was the Costa Del Cromer that provided the setting for my maiden bee eater sighting. For a moment, I considered it to be a once in a life time experience, but as we all know, it likely won’t be long until they’re perched on my bird bath. Their presence is undeniably unnerving but their arrival brought birders together and generally made everyone who saw them smile. The bee eater hype was real and they joy they brought is impossible to ignore.

BIRDWATCHING IS WEIRD.

I get this a lot. 

Even if I’m not told this directly, it’s certainly the vibe. My Instagram lit up as soon as I posted about my engagement but as soon as it was back to goldfinches, the hype died down. The gist I feel is that it’s not a particularly scintillating past-time, contrary to how I feel anyway. My colleagues genuinely described the hobby of birdwatching as ‘strong boomer energy’. Fantastic. The question really is, who is right? It’s obscure, but is it ‘odd’? The many outweigh the few in terms of strong opinions on the matter but does that make them right? What makes watching Attenborough amazing but Packham and Co. pathetic? Let’s dig into this…

We’re all environmentalists

In our minds, we all draw metaphorical lines. We care about things to different levels, which is completely fine. I can enjoy watching Norwich play but I wouldn’t get a tattoo of a canary on my chest. Most people would have strong socio-political opinions on certain topics but few would have the willpower to protest or take direct action. The term ‘arm-chair environmentalists’ is a poignantly true label in this regard. Much respect is rightly handed to climate scientists or green activists but birders with eco-consciousness are disregarded. If I branded myself as an environmental studies graduate, in line with my degree, ears would prick. Branding myself as a birdwatcher simply results in wry smiles. In spite of contributing to charity, protesting in favour of animal welfare and ultimately busting a gut to raise awareness of ecological issues, I’m looked down on because I also like identifying ducks. If every last bird in Britain disappeared, with a traffic-filled dawn chorus, empty gardens and soulless wetlands, maybe then society would care. Every birder on Earth has the health of their planet close to their heart but for bystanders, of whom environmental issues are pressing yet confusing, wildlife lovers are just ‘bunny-huggers’ or fuddy-duddy bird nerds. It is correct that I’m not as green as Greta, but a longing for a healthy world with thriving wildlife is a shared passion.

We’re all animal lovers

Dogs are man’s best friend, cats are adorable companions but waxwings and wagtails are weird. The hypocritical struggles are real. It is fair that a day out in Welney may not have the same draw as the Amazon or the Okavango but the point is still there, to revel in the wonder of nature. Ducks and geese may not be as traditionally exciting as ungulates or big cats but just because people may like seeing birds instead, that’s deemed to be unusual. It begs the question, at what point does an animal become ‘cool’? Do flamingoes count? They’re big and colourful, so do cranes or bustards count? If eagles are universally awesome, how about goshawks? The unfortunate reality is that not every animal that’s ever existed can be planted into our brains at an early age. We build comfort zones in our heads about what wildlife we know and anything beyond that is alien. The issue, really, is why there is this refusal to embrace new knowledge. I mention an osprey or a bittern to non-naturalists and their minds blank. Our fixation with organisms other than us is part of the very fabric of human history, so to distance ourselves from embracing it goes against everything that’s come before us. Basically, birds are animals, at the end of the day and seeing them is fun.

We all love the great outdoors

There is literally a successful retail brand called Go Outdoors. Hiking is a super-trendy and athletic activity that is highly regarded by the general public. The moment you wear hiking boots with the intention of ‘just’ going to a nature reserve, you’re peculiar. Birdwatching isn’t just about ticking a list, so much of it is fresh air, seasonal scents and vitamin D. Any suggestion of ‘going for a walk’ is usually greeted with agreement but any mention of binoculars warrants derision. The unspoken rules of walking that society have set in stone specify that stopping to engage with nature at any point is banned. No halting to gaze at greylag geese or spot sparrows, people have places to be. The logic that animals must not be admired, despite our widespread love for animals, as discussed, is baffling to me. Agreed, stopping to poke every fungus or scanning every canopy for treecreepers can be draining but any deviation from simply a sanitised ‘walk’ is scolded. If you wanted to get your steps in, minus flora and fauna, why not buy a treadmill?

We all love novelty

Sentimentality is an interesting subject to analyse. Deep down, it’s rooted within us and it’s essentially the basis for birdwatching. Ornithologists live for the obscure, that’s what drives us. A rarity, a lifer or a notable sighting gets the blood pumping but of course, it’s only birds, so why would that make any sense. We can all recall where we were at the breaking of major news, we all support the underdog and we all feel FOMO. These are all emotions that the public and birders share alike. Everyone also seeks to be different, so as not to conform to a monotonous, repetitive society. The longing to feel unique aside from being only a statistic is the very motivation to find exclusive quirks. Whether we like it or not, humans love finding things that others don’t like. Context is also key and whilst exclaiming about seeing a white headed duck might register barely an eyebrow raise, mentioning you’ve just seen one of the most endangered species in Europe garners a more distinct reaction. I was there and I saw something that very few others have been lucky to see. As climate changes and biodiversity crises continue, seeing certain wildlife will become more of a treat. However, envy will evidently be replaced with indifference.

We all have hobbies

We would all be bored otherwise. Birding can’t compare to learning a musical instrument or perfecting a sport yet still, it surely can’t be that random. If a day out in the wilderness was so bizarre, why are there literally thousands of nature reserves? Not everyone shares mutual interests, and that’s fine, but a hobby shouldn’t be judged on the basis that a minority of the public supports it. Football fans travel halfway across the country just to see their team potentially lose after a 90 minute match, is that weird? I fear this is an issue beyond merely birding, whereby niche interests are somewhat lambasted, whether it be Warhammer or stamp collecting. What is the benefit to bringing other people down just because they like something slightly different to the norm? I find going to the gym constantly is a less than enjoyable way to spend my time, for other reasons though. In the end, it comes down to that golden phrase that Jose Mourinho loves: respect.

If the argument is that birdwatching is for ‘old people’, why does this instantly ban younger audiences from enjoying it too? If the argument is that keeping lists and buzzing about seasonal changes is peculiar, does this make nostalgia illegal? If wildlife photographers are fascinating, is it only interesting if the moment in nature is captured on a Nikon? I could have this argument all day long, try me.

After reading this, I’m sure you’ll have no choice but to agree that birdwatching isn’t weird. I’ll expect to see you out with your bins on Sunday.