Its the Wryneck.
'But its just grey and brown' you might say, but whilst it does have a subtle beauty in its intricately marked plumage, its not just this that attracts me to them. No, its much more than that.
To see or better still, to find your own Wryneck is a pulse pausing moment for any birder. These exotic, weirdly behaving, ground dwelling woodpeckers come from birding folklore. From a time when there were many more individual birds around in the countryside than there are today, a time before the industrial revolution when insects and old woodland, scrub and hedgerows covered the land.
Looking at old books and reports, any one watching birds from times past up until the 40s or 50s maybe could just about expect to come across a Wryneck or two on the coast during a walk out in August and September. For those living in the south east of England, the breeding song of the Wryneck rang out from old stunted and gnarled orchards, while Red backed Shrikes haunted the dog rose, and cuckoos, turtle doves and corncrakes were just typical farmland birds.
This morning I popped down to Hadston to pay my respects to such a character. As the sun peeked out and began to warm the scrub near the boat compound, the Wryneck crept around in a reptilian manner on some old timber and discarded tree stumps, hunting for insects. It was a little flighty at first but soon settled down in front of a handful of admirers to feed and sun bathe in the open.
Time flies when you watch a Wryneck with the warmth of a low sun on you and a breeze through the grass. Your mind can drift to imagining what it would have been like in the old days when this would have been an everyday sighting...
That is why the Wryneck is not just something to 'hit and run' for a year tick, its something to savour and enjoy. Something to think on, to dwell in our thoughts. It is part of our birding heritage and long may its presence continue to grace our shores...
So, here it is, the Wryneck, Jynx torquilla, for me, there is no finer bird...
