I tend to walk early in the morning and meet a fair number of birds. I know the names of some of them, but not all. Some of them have names that I find difficult to remember, such as the goldfinch. The European goldfinch has a red face and a mere yellow streak on its wings. This hardly justifies the naming designation. Its Anglo-Saxon name was thistle-tweaker as it lines its nest with thistle down and eats the thistle seeds. Surely we should reclaim this old name? I would be most likely to remember their name, however, if it were Toddler Jam Face. It's impossible to unsee.
Your prompts for this week
Monday
Give something small a new name. What are some of the small things that live and grow nearby that you don't know the name of? (Or perhaps you think they are ill-named.) Choose one and give it a name. If you bring a notebook on your travels, write down its new name along with a description or a small sketch which highlights its important features.
Tuesday
Can you find more of what you've named? Once I've named something, I tend to see it more regularly. Is this true for you too?
Wednesday
What are the colours of the small things that you find? Perhaps the mosses all seem to be green. But are they the same green? But what about within the organism itself? Is the top the same colour as the bottom? Is the trunk of a tree the same colour as its branches?
Thursday
Have you ever patted a lichen? It's not such a strange question to ask! These incredible organisms are hard in dry conditions and soft in wet ones. I highly recommend finding one to pat. It's a sensational delight to feel how it changes in different weather conditions.
Friday
Do any of the trees near you still have their fruit or seeds? This time of year, I might see oak acorns, alder cones, beech husks, hazelnuts, haws, and holly berries. Often, the rowan berries have already blown away but sometimes they manage to hang on within the protection of the village.
*In midwinter, the same prompt reads:* Do any of the trees near you still have their fruit or seeds? This time of year, I might see holly berries, haws, and catkins for hazel trees.
Saturday
You've been walking and noticing for nearly two weeks. If you're walking the same route at the same time of day, you may begin to notice "regulars". For me, this is the goldfinch that lives in the big beech tree, the robin that asks loudly for crumbs, the stonechats that follow me up the fence line. Are there any regulars in your neighbourhood?
Sunday
Look closely at the tips of low-hanging branches on the trees. Can you see the buds? We think of buds as a spring time formation, but they form at the end of summer before the tree heads to bed. Like setting the overnight oats in the fridge the night before, trees prepare for spring well before they bed down for winter, a process known as budding-in.
Observations for the week
Along the homestretch of my walk, a flock of goldfinches gathers amongst the remaining thistle stocks. Apparently, a flock of goldfinches is referred to as a "charm". Isn't that wonderful? The flock noisily sets off as soon as I get close.
The second time around
I told you about the Toddle Jam Face goldfinches in our first go-round on these prompts. The songbirds are now mostly gone for the winter. In the same field where the goldfinches feed in summer, I've been flirting with what, I think, might be a plover. I'm rarely quick enough with the binoculars to confirm, but the repetition of following the same route each day gives me a greater chance of sneaking up on my bird friends and confirming their identity.
This time of year feels like an in-between time to me. A quiet time. Still, there is the odd worm to rescue from the road, and the crustose lichen, that looks as though it's painted on, has the extra spots of its reproductive fruiting bodies. These are the perks of a temperate winter in England. Were I back in Canada, my tiny things might include icicles, hoar frost, and cheeky chickadees looking for seeds.
Things you might like to read
Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
My second reading suggestion is from fellow Canadian author, Jessica J. Lee. Her book, Dispersals, is a wonderful mix of stories about plants, migration, and finding home.