3 degrees

On reflection, I should have gone back for my hat. And my scarf. It’s not as though I’m not used to working outside looking after our llamas, goats and pig, but then I’m usually on the move – mucking out the field shelter, or picking poo from the fields. This time I had seen a post on a Facebook group showing a redpoll not too far from home and I had planned to arrive early and stay put until I had some photographs. It was only three degrees when I got in my little car. I considered the woolly extras, but that would have meant disturbing the cats again, so I didn’t bother.

It was still three degrees when I arrived at my destination, only this time there was a gale blowing and the wind chill must have made it feel well below freezing. I wondered what sort of idiot would go out in weather like this. Knowing nothing about the bird in particular, maybe it wasn’t just a winter visitor and I could perhaps have left the expedition to the spring. Or even a balmy summer’s day.

Instead, I left the relative warmth of my car and headed out to the rough ground described to me on the previous evening. Cross the car park, over the little bridge, turn left and then it was supposed to be there on my right… only what I found could only have been described as a building site. The girl had said it was within the fencing, but I assumed that to mean a proper wooden fence separating the ground from the neighbouring football pitch. What lay in front was a long line of large metal Heras fencing panels and behind there was a lorry, a digger and several workmen.

At least I wasn’t alone because as well as a handful of early morning dog walkers, there was a fellow photographer and he was far better wrapped up than I was. I wandered over and as we chatted, it turned out we had “met” before. He had been the gentleman enquiring about my goldcrest images and I told him where I had found the birds along a footpath at Dungeness. He had already done a recce of the place and seen only a few finches, which, as a birder, hadn’t interested him at all. We carried on talking, but before too long our conversation was drowned out by the sound of a hedge cutter coming from the back of the rough ground. The gardeners were taking the opportunity to trim the beech hedge that ran down the length of the gardens. It must have been at least a hundred yards long and they had only just started.

After a while my friend wandered off in search of other birds by the river. I followed on some time later and he pointed out some long-tailed tits before waving goodbye. I didn’t have much luck with them either, but then I realised the lorry and digger had fallen silent. I turned around to see them reversing out through one of the open panels and checking with a couple of workmen, I was told they wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day. Things were looking up! The hedge cutters were still going full throttle though, but I reckoned they would be heading off for lunch fairly soon.

So I stood around in the bitter cold for another 45 minutes until everything fell silent. The workmen and gardeners had vanished and there wasn’t even a dog walker in sight. The birds didn’t take long to return and by some twist of fate, the redpoll was the first one I spotted. I raised my camera, fired off a few shots and then the battery died! It must have been the extreme cold. Muttering that the birds had better stay put, I turned around and with frozen fingers, pulled the spare battery out of my bag and replaced the dead one. Looking back I was thrilled to see the redpoll had not flown away and was even on the same plant.

Over the next few minutes I photographed him feeding on the seeds while hoping the fencing didn’t spoil my shots. I had gripped one of the rails with a gloved finger and tried to shoot mostly through the gap, but it wasn’t wide enough for the lens and I worried there would be problems once I got home. In fact, the only spoiled shot was the very first one of the day – a chaffinch against a clear blue sky, where I could see the fencing clearly when I corrected the exposure. The redpoll images were all fine though, as was one of a female reed bunting not far away.

It took the rest of the day to thaw out after standing outside for well over three hours. I still reckon I’m mad.