A Bird in the Hand

Ferry Meadows Country Park offers the visitor great variety in terms of things to see and do.  There’s the Nene Valley Railway of course, but also boat trips, watersports, cycling, golf, horse riding and cycling to name but a few.  Another popular pastime is ornithology as the park is home to a wide variety of bird life.  Indeed, during several visits to the area I’ve dabbled a bit and tried to take some interesting pictures whilst waiting for the trains – although photographing birds requires a certain amount of skill of which I don’t have much, plus a great deal of patience of which I have none whatsoever.   However, I did manage to take the above photo, plus this rather nice, if blurred, shot of a robin last Christmas as my nether regions gradually froze to the texture of granite whilst I waited for the Santa Special steam train to arrive at Ferry Meadows station.  The bird had been ducking and diving around the platform, never staying still long enough for a photo, when it landed on the station nameboard and remained there long enough for this picture to be taken.

I was therefore pleasantly surprised to view this stunning example of another bird perched at exactly the same spot a few days ago.  A fine example of perkupus tittis blonditicus, otherwise known by the more common household name as the full-breasted robyn.  

As you probably know, this is a member of the tit family.

Although the robyn is a common enough species in the UK, it is highly unusual to find one that has shed its plumage so far inland – normally these birds tend to divest themselves at the seaside, or within the confines of their own nest.  Finding one at a railway station would almost be enough to provoke an outbreak of conversation on a London commuter train.

This particular example is clearly a young female - like so many of the migrating species, tits tend to head south.  And with this breed as they get older, that’s where they stay.  However, in recent years some celebrity birds have been known to be artificially enhanced – the keen ornithologist easily spots these as they swell to three times their natural size and in most cases the body becomes a distinctive shade of Essex orange.

Kerry Katona’s friends thought that her 28th boob job made her look a bit of a has-bean.

The breeding habits of the robyn are well known and documented, but vary slightly from region to region.  Between the ages of 16 and 22 (or 12 and 13 in Middlesborough), robyns flit between a variety of mates, usually on Saturday nights.  The mating ritual involves drinking large amounts of cheap alcohol known as polly-filler, followed by a sacred dance barefoot around a handbag with a pair of high heels discarded to one side.  This ritual tells the sharp eyed male that his chosen partner is well up for a bit; he then has to make his move quickly as the rest of the flock will also be observing the females from close quarters.  The lucky male will approach the unsuspecting female from the cover of strobe lighting, his advance going undetected thanks to the natural distraction provided by Agadoo at 195 decibels.  With a well-refined technique handed down through the generations he will begin the courtship with, “Fancy a shag, pet?”  The pair will then retire discreetly to consummate their coupling in a Vauxhall Corsa or round the back of Argos.  This may be followed by an invitation to visit the female nest for ‘coffee’, which the male instinctively understands to mean ‘more sex.’  The ritual ends the following morning when each of the pair awake and see each other sober for the very first time.  Frequently this comes as a shock and the male will make a hasty exit from the nest, hoping to avoid the heart rendering and plaintive cry from the female of, “Call me …”

10 p.m.

10 a.m.

Mating generally takes place between different flocks, and usually with a similar species unless a lucky bird discovers a vast quantity of polly-filler and loses many, if not all, of her inhibitions.  However, in Spalding mating often takes place between members of the same family unit, which explains rather a lot.  

“I want you up and dressed before your three-eyed webbed-foot 

Dad gets home, son - or there’s no pocket money this week.”

More information about the mating habits of birds may be gleaned online with some research – try Googling ‘tits’ and you’ll have a staggering 94,900,000 sites to chose from, or so my researcher tells me.  I had no idea that there was so much interest in the subject - we live and learn.

Okay, I’d best confess and make a clean breast of things here – I didn’t actually take this photo; I’m just not that lucky.  And even if I had spotted her, I’d have had problems with camera shake – and please, no comments about a tripod.  That’s just unnecessary.  The picture was published in a recent issue of Nuts magazine, and came to light when it was discovered down at the Nene Valley Railway offices and handed around with much glee.  Publicity is publicity after all, and it was gratifying that Lorraine, 23, from Leicester chose to visit Ferry Meadows to perk herself up a bit.  No one is quite sure when the picture was taken, although my researcher suggests it must have been quite a chilly day.  No, I don’t understand either.  I’ve obviously led a very sheltered life.  I doubt if it was on a day when trains were running – that would have been quite a boob on her part.  And it gives a whole new meaning to 'Thomas’s Big Adventure', although it does explain the big smile on his face.

All of Thomas’s Christmases came at once.  But what would he tell Annie and Clarabel?

So, Lorraine – if you choose to visit the NVR again, please drop in and say hello.  We’d be delighted to see you; not that there’s much of you we haven’t seen already.  As my mother taught me years ago – a bird in the hand is worth two with a bush.  Or something like that.

"So how was it for ewe?"