Hunger games

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/dec/11/hunger-games

Version 0 of 1.

As the days have grown shorter and the weather colder, dwindling natural food resources have drawn the birds back to my garden. The dunnock that roosts in our unkempt bay tree pauses to sip rainwater from the base of an upturned coal scuttle, before scouring beneath the bird table for spilled seed.

I glimpse a foraging wren scuttling mouse-like through the labyrinth of ivy that covers the fence. A song thrush skulks behind the wood pile sucking up worms like spaghetti, while a trio of magpies take turns to sidle up and steal a peanut from the mound I have left by the back door for our visiting squirrel.

Seven wood pigeons arrive with a clatter of wings, perching on the fence and the backs of our patio chairs. Shuffling along like a post office queue, they are poised to launch themselves at the bird table as soon as they spot a space.

Related: Song thrush bursts with soul

There’s only room for four at a time, so it’s not long before a scuffle breaks out. A portly bird, with a permanently puffed-out chest and a thickened neck like an American footballer, lunges repeatedly at another that attempts to usurp him. As the two parry, a robin darts in to snatch a mealworm.

The adult pigeons have appetites only for sunflower seeds and fat pellets, but a scrawny juvenile is behaving like a weaning toddler. It pecks experimentally at the shed’s roof felt for several minutes before concluding that it is inedible, then attempts to swallow a wizened crab apple whole. Choking up the apple, the bird turns its attention to a trellis of honeysuckle, tugging so hard on a berry that the bine snaps taut and sends a feasting blackbird ricocheting into the air.

As I watch a roving troop of long-tailed tits swinging from the fat feeders like circus acrobats, my eye is drawn to movement in the twisted willow that overhangs the pond. A pair of tiny goldcrests hover-glean, plucking spiders from the underside of leaves and branches with their needle-like bills. Olive green and sporting gilded mohicans, they deck the tree like exquisite baubles.