As I arrived home to Smithy Brook on a cold, dull January day, I heard a frantic ‘see see see’ call as some little feathered friend sped past and landed on one of our many birdfeeders. I froze on the spot as the tiny, rotund body and very long tail could only mean one thing- a long tailed tit. To my delight and as if they were being summons from a magician’s hat a steady flow of busy little, long tailed tits appeared, one by one and took their place on the same feeder; until you could no longer tell where one ended and another one began. I realised that I was holding my breath, but something told me they were rather bold and in no way put off from their feast by me. I counted as best I could through the comings and goings of the feathery bundle to find that there were at least 8. This got me thinking I was feeling lucky to have seen one let alone a whole family so, I set out to learn more.
I have always loved this little bird with its black and white plumage tinged with a delicate shade of pink, its dainty little features, its round little body with its tail, so long that it makes it look like one of those dongers that are used to beat out the notes on a xylophone and I am hungry to learn more.
Further research informs me that they are most sociable, little fellows and they go everywhere in family groups of as many as twenty and to keep warm they huddle together in a ball in hedgerows. They even help each other with the rearing of their chicks. What a team! The more I hear the more I love them.
I am delighted to learn that they are increasing in number due to the milder winters that we have had lately, but as with other small birds it is hard for them to keep warm, so it is important that we feed them a good supply of energy-based foods, like suet and cheese. Winter is the best time to spot them in your gardens, as they move out into the countryside to breed in the Spring. They build beautiful nests shaped like barrels which has earned them the endearing nickname, Bumbarrel.
The poet John Clare gives them a mention in his beautiful poem ‘Emmonsails Heath in Winter’,
“And coy bumbarrels twenty in a drove
Flit down the hedge rows in the frozen plain
And hang on little twigs and start again”
This has undoubtedly been the highlight of my 2021 so far and what a privilege to have a bundle of Bumbarrels over for supper. Marvellous.
