Going for gold has a rare prize

Autumn is robbing woodlands and gardens of their green finery but there are still verdant delights to be discovered through careful listening.

The high-pitched yet powerful call of the goldcrest belies its status as Britain’s smallest bird.

These diminutive bundles of energy weigh little more than a half-dozen crispy, yellowing oak leaves, which have fallen to make way for the goldcrest’s frantic foraging for calories.

Bare November sprigs frame the perfect stage to watch the five-gram birds flicker and shimmy as they seek out skulking spiders and insects hunkered down for the onset of winter.

With subtly toned plumages in soft greens, goldcrests can easily be mistaken for leaves waiting to curl and fall from the branch, and yet they seem delighted to announce their presence with an emphatic shrill squeak that can be heard from 50 paces.

The sound has been likened to rubbing a finger on the brim of a wet wine glass.

Once located by their non-stop calling and bustling in the naked canopy, patient observers may be rewarded with a flash of the eponymous golden crest, a dazzle of sunlight on the dreariest of days.

Up to 800,000 pairs of goldcrests nest in British woods, parks and gardens each spring, although the population swells in the autumn with vast numbers arriving from Scandinavia after epic and often fraught flights across the North Sea.

Only last week I spent an afternoon watching a flock of ‘crests at play in the treelined car park of the RSPB’s famous North Norfolk coast reserve at Titchwell.

Observing newly arrived Nordic birds feast after their travels was a joy in itself, but there was a motive in studying the tiny pingpong balls of energy because they have a habit of associating with some of the most eagerly sought autumn rarities.

Goldcrests sit close but on a different evolutionary perch to the leaf-warblers, a large old world genus of insect-eating birds that include common species such as the chiffchaff, as well as strikingly beautiful Siberian wanderers in the shape of yellowbrowed and Pallas’s Warblers and, of course, the closely related yet even dandier firecrest.

They seem delighted to announce themselves with a shrill squeak

It’s getting harder to fill flower vases at this time of year.

There are a few dahlias, chrysanthemums and calendulas still blossoming a bit but that will end soon. So I was delighted to see my hardy fuchsia still flowering.

The scarlet sepals, purple petals and pink stamens are such a sassy combination.

‘Riccartonii’ is hardy, but in colder areas it may die back for winter although it should reappear in spring. A lovely choice for an informal hedge, it grows best in moist, well-drained soil in sun or partial shade.

‘Delta’s Sara’ is a new hardy variety also worth looking out for – it has a white ‘skirt’ and violet blue ‘petticoat’. Very pretty.