As November deepens and the days grow short and still, the garden at the cottage begins to feel a little emptier. The last leaves cling stubbornly to the branches, the flowerbeds settle into their winter rest, and the once-busy hum of summer fades into a gentle quiet.
But if you stand still for a moment, there’s still life to be found — small flutters among the branches, a cheerful chattering from the hedgerows. As natural food sources dwindle, the birds start to venture closer to home, looking for something to see them through the colder months.
Over the weekend, I spent a little time refreshing our feeding spots around the garden. We don’t use formal bird tables here; instead, we hang feeders from the big tree in the back garden and some of the trees in the orchard and scatter a handful of seeds on the ground beneath the hedges. It’s a simple way to mimic the way birds would naturally forage, picking through fallen leaves and winter grasses.
Already, the regulars are back. Robins dart in and out with that bold, bright confidence only robins seem to have. Blue tits and great tits flit from branch to branch, taking it in turns at the feeders. Occasionally, a blackbird will emerge, kicking through the damp leaves for a hidden treat.
It’s a small thing, scattering seed and topping up the feeders, but it feels like an act of stewardship – a way of looking after the creatures who share this little patch of the world with us. Especially now, when the earth seems so still and bare, it’s heartening to watch these flashes of life carry on, undaunted by the frost or the creeping dark.
A few things to remember if you’re thinking about feeding the birds this winter:
- Keep feeders clean to prevent the spread of disease.
- Offer a mixture of seeds, suet, and nuts to help a variety of species.
- Fresh water is just as important as food — even in the coldest weather.
- Scatter seed on the ground for ground-feeding birds like blackbirds, dunnocks, and wrens.
There’s a quiet kind of joy in it — standing by the window with a mug of tea, watching the garden come alive again, one fluttering visitor at a time.