There have been bullfinches in the same little glen just before Christmas for the past five years. I don’t know what they get from the place – it is just rank heather, weeds and bracken. Sometimes they eat seeds off the docks, and sometimes they just seem to lounge around on what remains of the cow parsley. There are six of them in a little gang, and while I’m always pleased to see them, their regularity is maddeningly difficult to interpret.
I reckon these bullfinces have built up a blue print of suitable food supply areas to get them through the lean times.
Not far from where I live in Broughty Ferry we have a small wooded nature reserve which ever year since I can remember in early Spring guarentees also six bullfinches to a group of Cherry Plum buds. As some as the buds burst into flower the birds disperse, although I would reckon a pair would stay and breed in the reserve.
Stunning birds, always a priveledge to see.
“Shout on, Morgan. You’ll be nothing tomorrow”
Swn y galon fach yn torri, 1952
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Bog Myrtle & Peat 
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