They’re Back

The Christmas fairy has come early. I’d recognize that high-pitched ringing trill anywhere. Conjured up from forests far away to the north and alighting in a garden (or supermarket car park) near you, the waxwings have been gifted to our land.
One look through the binoculars and you are smitten. It may be a once in a lifetime affair (once in every winter for the lucky) - you can’t help but fall for them.
Their plumage is as smooth as silk; their wings are decorated with white spots and yellow trims; the wine-red stain under a tail that’s dipped in matching yellow. Oh, and that face; quiffed and crested dandies with a black bib and mask, and a touch of rouge. I’ve seen them described as pink punks but surely not? When did you see punks apply make up with such delicacy and subtleness? Red blusher here; white eye liner there. Waxwings are truly beautiful.

So keep a look out on your berries and listen for the trill..