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C. J. Cornish - The Naturalist on the Thames
Because we see birds of certain kinds near our farms, gardens, and hedges it does not follow that these
are those which were there in summer and spring. Such common finches as the greenfinches and
chaffinches migrate in immense flocks, and over vast distances, considering their short wings and small
size. In the gardens and shrubberies round the houses the parent robins stay. So do some of the
blackbirds, the thrushes (except in very hard weather), the hedge-sparrow, the nuthatch (more in
evidence in winter than at any other time, and a firm believer in eleemosynary nuts), all the tits, except
the long-tailed tit, a little gipsy bird wandering in family hordes, and the crested and marsh tits (dwellers
in the pine forest and sedge-beds), and the wood pigeon. Occasionally that shy bird, the hawfinch, is seen
on a wet, quiet day picking up white-beam kernels and seeds. Except this, every one of the garden birds
comes to be fed, and is well known and appreciated. It is in the woods and the hedges of the rain-soaked
meadows that the general absence of bird life in winter is most marked, and the presence of the few
which stay most appreciated. Those who, on sport intent, go round the hedges in November and
December, or wait in rides while the woods are driven, or lie up quietly in the big covers for a shot at
wood pigeons in the evening, are almost startled by the tameness and indifference of the birds, eagerly
feeding so as to make the most of the short, dark days. When the hedges are beaten for rabbits the
bullfinches appear in families, their beautiful grey backs and exquisite rosy breasts looking their very
best against the dark-brown, purply twigs. Another home-staying bird of the hedgerows, or rather of the
hedgerow timber, is the tree-creeper. It has no local habitation, being a bird which migrates in a drifting
way from tree to tree, and so bound by no ties to mother-earth. But it is in the woods that the
stay-at-home birds are most in evidence in winter. There they find abundant food, and there they make
their home. The woodpeckers, the magpie, and the jay, the brown owl, the sparrow-hawk, the kestrel, the
pheasant, the long-tailed tit, and all the rest of the tribe; and in the clearings where the teazle grows, the
goldfinches feed. The barn owl and brown owl both stay with us. So does the long-eared owl. But the
short-eared owl is a regular migrant, coming over in flights like woodcock. No one has satisfactorily
answered the question why there are sedentary species and migratory species so closely allied in habits
and food that the quest for a living must be ruled as outside the motive for migration.
If the long-eared owl can remain and find a living all the year round in the copses on the downs, why
should not the short-eared owl make a practice of what is its occasional custom, and nest in the fens and
marshes? If the kingfisher can find a living and abundant fish in our rivers and brooks, why does the
dabchick migrate? The migration is only a partial one, for many remain on the Thames all the year round,
especially near the eyots by Tilehurst; but it vanishes from most of the Northern pools and returns almost
on the same date. Perhaps a conclusion might be hazarded from the behaviour of wild migratory birds
which have become semi-domesticated. In Canada, the largest and best known of the wild geese is the
black-necked Canadian goose. It is a regular migrant. The Indians believe it brings little birds on its back
when it comes. At Holkham, where a large flock of these is acclimatised, but lives under perfectly wild
conditions, the Canadian geese never attempt to migrate, though they often fly out on to the sands at
ebb-tide. They show less disposition to leave the estate than the herons in the park. Yet during the winter
they feed every day with flocks of wild geese in the marshes. These geese fly every spring away to the
Lapland mountains or the tundras, and could show the Canada geese the way northwards if they wished
to follow. The conclusion is that the Canada geese have no desire for change; and the reason that other
birds do not migrate is probably the same.
ANCIENT HEDGES
In the upper Thames valley, both in May and autumn, one of the prettiest sights is the great hedges which
divide the meadows. In spring, those above Oxford look as though covered with snow, and in early
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