Saturday, 25 November 2017

R.I.P. Kingham Goldcrest 24th November 2017


Today my wife went to London and as it was such a nice sunny morning she decided to walk the half mile or so from our house in the village to Kingham station in order to catch the train. It is not an unpleasant walk as the path follows the road through pleasant countryside to a station that still retains its rural feel and ambience.

Fifteen minutes later, after leaving the house, she called to tell me she had just picked up a Goldcrest, dead but in perfect condition that was lying on the path and could I come and collect it from her as it would be worth keeping for our daughter to maybe make a study skin out of it.

Ten minutes later I arrived in the car to meet her outside the station, and collected the Goldcrest and took its tiny body back to the house. Its cause of death was unknown but maybe it was hit by a car as it flew low across the road from hedgerow to hedgerow.

Goldcrests, Britain's smallest bird species are not uncommon about Kingham, being resident, whilst migrants swell the numbers in winter. I often see them flitting through the holly hedge or rose bushes outside our house at all times of the year, tiny sprites that are never still for a second, flicking their wings with restless energy as they examine in minute detail every leaf and twig, looking for tiny morsels of food such as spiders, which are a very important constituent of their diet and moth eggs, their prey so small they are invisible to my eyes. Occasionally they will hover in front of a spider's web seeking to seize its owner. If there is more than one Goldcrest they maintain contact by calling a high zizizizizizi to each other, so high that often it is beyond the hearing capabilities of older ears. In autumn and winter they often join with tit flocks, as in a loose aggregation the flock roves through the trees and bushes seeking food.

Huge numbers of Goldcrests arrive from Scandinavia in autumn and the British population, augmented by migrants, can be anywhere from 3-5 million birds. The migrants, scraps of life weighing on average 5-6 grammes,  think nothing of making a miraculous crossing of the North Sea to land on our coasts in huge numbers and make their way inland. I can recall being at Spurn on the east coast of Yorkshire a couple of years ago when there was a fall of Goldcrests, so many that the lawns of houses, fields and grass verges were literally carpeted with hundreds of them as they sought to replenish their spent energy in the grass and weeds. I had a similar encounter on the north Norfolk coast when it was estimated ten thousand had arrived on one autumn morning from the sea.



'Live' Goldcrests at Spurn having just arrived from a crossing of the North Sea
Goldcrests breed every year in a large conifer at the end of our garden and once, when watering the garden in early summer, I had the delightful experience of a brood of Goldcrests, just fledged at that very moment from their nest in the conifer, landing on me and running down my green clad arm to try to bathe in the sprinkling water from the nozzle of the hose pipe held in my hand.

So, although it was sad to see one dead today, it did give me the opportunity to study the subtle plumage patterns closely and reflect on their remarkable existence. The yellow crest with no fiery orange centre told me the dead Goldcrest, lying in the palm of my hand, was a female. 



Unlike its more spectacularly coloured cousin, the Firecrest, its plumage is dull, being an overall olive green on the upperparts, the colours of the conifers they so prefer and drab greyish brown below. Its eye is surrounded by a diffuse and broad, pale ring making the dark eye conspicuous and appearing disproportionately large in its plain face whilst down turned, thin moustachial  stripes give it a slightly mournful look.  


Here are some additional Goldcrest facts

It used to be known as the Golden crested Wren and as well as being the smallest bird in Britain it is also the smallest species found in the Western Palearctic.

The Goldcrest's range includes the Himalayas and Japan. In northern Europe it is widespread but in southern Europe it is largely replaced by the Firecrest.

Early ornithologists thought it was impossible for Goldcrests to  cross the North Sea unaided and suggested they hitched a lift on the backs of migratory Woodcock and Short eared Owls.

One of the Goldcrest's old country names, 'Woodcock Pilot' derives from the belief they came across on the backs of Woodcocks.

It is thought that in contrast to their migratory Scandinavian cousins, Goldcests that nest in Britain are sedentary and do move far from their birthplace.

Because of their tiny size they are seldom found dead, which makes my wife's discovery this morning all the more remarkable. Most that are recovered are killed by cats.

Most Goldcrest pairs raise two broods each spring and the female starts her second clutch of eggs in a new nest before her first brood has fledged with the male taking over sole responsibility for feeding the first brood as soon as the female commences incubating the second clutch of eggs.

The Goldcrest has a North American equivalent-the Ruby crowned Kinglet which is similar in size but even duller in colour.





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