Of the 23 cards that have wound their way into my house, there are 14 robins featured, 12 reindeer, six Santas, three penguins, two doves, one owl, one fox and one puffin, and one unidentified bird that looks like a dove but must be a partridge since it is depicted in a pear tree. This all reminds me of an article I wrote, some years ago, for a community website in Cornwall, and which I now reproduce below, describing some of our festive avian associations. Enjoy!
The
Robin
As a seven year old child I fell into
the classic trap of identifying the robin as a winter species. I was at a field
meeting for the Young Ornithologists Club (the YOC – not an organisation to
reel in members with its uber-trendy nomenclature! Thankfully the youth branch
of the RSPB has been revamped since then). We were asked whether the robin was
a summer or winter bird, and eager to impress my new found fellow young
ornithologists, I leapt forth with the answer that it was, of course, a winter
bird. How did I know? Because I had seen one (I can only assume the same one)
on every Christmas card, present, wrapping and advert under the ever shortening
sun. And yet a moment’s conscious thought would have reminded me that this is a
species that we see in summer too. The robin is possibly a victim of a highly
successful marketing strategy. It certainly has had religious connections for
hundreds of years, and it is one of the few species to remain territorial all
year round, so will sing in winter more than many species do. However, it was likely
introduced to cards to symbolise postal workers delivering at Christmas time –
the red breast closely matching the uniform of our native ‘posties’, and the
original cards containing images of the robin actually carrying the mail. Over
time the association with Pat was lost, but the robin continued on its wintery
way to become our national bird. Not so much victim as victor.
 |
| A Robin proving me right |
The
Partridge and associated friends
I will assume here that you are all
well versed (and perhaps rehearsed) in the art of Christmas songs. In one
particularly popular ditty, a whole menagerie of birds, people and inanimate
objects are lumped together in descending numerical order, culminating in a
partridge (and a pear tree, for the benefit of those who claim the RSPB only
cares about birds!). This seems most unlikely to me, since partridges are generally
ground dwelling birds, and I have never seen one in a tree at all. Currently,
it is becoming increasingly difficult to see the grey, or ‘English’ partridge
at all, as the population continues to decline.
 |
| Grey 'English' Partridge |
The red-legged, or ‘French’
partridge is our bird’s continental cousin, and has become the more common of
the two in many places. It is unclear which of the two
species the song refers to. Turtle doves are similarly scarce in the UK. This
species has long been associated with marital tenderness, though I do not know whether
that is a reason for its inclusion in the song. A combination of habitat loss
and hunting on migration has reduced the population of turtle doves in the UK
to less than a quarter of what it was 30 years ago. Turtle doves are summer migrants, so they will all have fled the encroaching winter long before Christmas arrives. White doves (though not our native
turtle doves) feature on many cards as symbols of peace, with obvious religious
connotations. Swans often feature as a representation of love. The image of two
swan necks bent into a heart shape adorns many cards, particularly those
produced for Valentine’s Day. For geese the association may be more practical.
It is likely that a number of game birds, both wild and domestic (and we can
throw the French hens into this category), will feature on our Christmas menus
as usual this year. In some cases they will be stuffed inside each other to
create a Russian doll effect, with up to ten species crammed together. Though
they do not feature in the song, and are neither wild nor native to our shores,
it would be wrong to deliver a Christmas sermon without at least mentioning the
turkey! Another bird-related line from the song concentrates on four ‘calling
birds’. One argument suggests that these are blackbirds, as it could derive
from an original term ‘collie’, which means black and comes from an old word
for coal. It is to this species, and it’s nearest and dearest, that we turn
next.
 |
| Blackbirds - male on left! |
Blackbirds
and other Thrushes
These are birds which have a genuine association
with winter. Although we have a resident population of blackbirds, song and
mistle thrush in the UK, their numbers are swelled by other birds flying south
to winter in our milder climate. With these come redwing and fieldfare, which
are only present here in the winter. The redwing is similar to a song thrush,
but with a red flash under the wing and a more prominent eye stripe. The
fieldfare is a larger bird, with blues and greys coating its back, but still
maintaining some of the spotted chest we see on other thrushes. Both of these
species will come to gardens in search of food, and have a particular fondness
for apples and berries. They can be seen currently stripping berries from our
hedgerows.
The
Penguin
For a UK birdwatcher, Christmas is by
far the best time to see a penguin. As a southern hemispheric family, penguins
are not accustomed to arriving on our shores in considerable numbers. But an
association between penguins and cold conditions has left them the dubious
honour of featuring in our Christmas thoughts (though I’m yet to find a recipe
that includes one!). It is worth remembering that our winter will actually be
their summer, and I would be interested to find out whether penguins grace the
covers of Australian Christmas cards. The majestic emperor penguins will be
huddled together, braving the elements in a bid to raise their single chicks.
Incidentally, it would be a fair assumption that the fascinating but treacle-coated
film ‘March of the Penguins’ will be part of our TV schedules over Christmas.
 |
| A marching penguin |
