Northmoor Churchyard Hawfinches

The Hawfinch invasion of 2017 brought large numbers of these fantastic finches into the county. I enjoyed catching up with some of the vanguard back in October, see here, but I wanted some more good views of these birds, just in case they all disappeared in the spring! The churchyard at Northmoor has held a small flock of Hawfinches since the autumn, so I paid a visit this morning.

I began by scanning the trees in the churchyard, checking the higher exposed branches for perched birds and the dense yew trees for signs of feeding birds, hidden away in their depths. I regularly looked around for flying birds and listened for the flight call. I checked the trees at the front of the churchyard, then walked quietly around to watch the trees at the back, before returning to the trees at the front again. This seemed like a sensible strategy but after half an hour it had produced zero Hawfinches. I had seen a fly-over Red Kite, Buzzard, Sparowhawk, Kestrel and even a circling Peregrine:

After nearly an hour, I was getting seriously cold and was in despair about why I had not located a single Hawfinch. Perhaps the regular raptor flyovers were keeping the Hawfinches secretive? Was I to be the only birder in the county to come here and not see Hawfinch?! Then an elderly couple enter the churchyard, both wearing binoculars. “Have you seen any Hawfinches?” they call, “this is the fourth spot we have tried for them, we keep missing them”. I have to admit that my heart sank. Having more people wandering around would not increase my chances of seeing these shy finches.

Nevertheless, I went over for a chat and the couple told me that they had read reports of the birds feeding at the back of the church. I had checked those trees even more frequently than the ones in front of the church, as they were out of the wind. “Let’s have another look” I suggest and we walk around behind the church. Immediately the elderly woman calls “There’s one” and points up to a single bird in the tree behind the church. I lift my binoculars and look at the bird. There is a Hawfinch perched in the exposed branches in the top of the tree. I must have checked that tree twenty times in the last hour. The couple have been in the graveyard for less than a minute!

We admire the bird and after a few minutes it starts calling. Not the hard “tick” call, but something more like the soft flight call:

[Ruud van Beusekom, XC298155. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/298155]

The Hawfinch then flew to the tall trees at the front of the church. As it leaves the tree, at least three other birds fly in to join it.

Hawfinches are masters of perching up quietly and using the shadows:

The small flock drops down to feed in the trees in the front corner of the churchyard. I then spend a fabulous 45 minutes watching feeding birds in the yew trees:

Their plumage breaks out their outline very effectively. In flight, in good light, the huge bill and tail tip glow white. But in the shadows of the trees, the white patches on the tail, undertail coverts and wing coverts blend in with the patches of sunlight between the branches, making them hard to pick out:

The black bib forms a triangular patch that perfectly mirrors the large pale bill, when viewed from below:

I saw the huge bill, famous for it’s power, being used to delicately pick out seeds from the tree:

This bird, below, is in mid-crack. The seed casing can be seen falling down, in front of the bird’s breast:

Hawfinches are superb birds. Although it took a while for the birds to come and feed, once they were settled it was fabulous to get close, relaxed views of what it historically a tricky bird to see in Oxfordshire. A fantastic morning and a reward for the slow and cold start.