Sunday morning: a warm bed, a beautiful wife, England 300-1 on the radio and its -8.5 degrees outside. So why exactly was I outside at 8am this morning? And more to the point, where was my reward for spurning those pleasures? Cuddesdon was close to birdless this morning, a handful of Golden Plover mewing sadly in North field, a few surviving Fieldfares, Song Thrushes and Fieldfares, very little passerine activity. Last December I recorded over 100 each of Yellowhammer, Reed Bunting and Linnet in the stubble. This year everything has been plouged in and planted with oilseed rape or winter wheat and there is simply no food for these species. Result: crap habitat=no birds=no rewards.
Above, for once I noticed this Fox before he noticed me. Below, an unseasonal Lanceloated Warbler creeps into the frozen nettles and dies.