ONE of the curious features of January is that so many birds join flocks mainly comprising their own species, but sometimes mingling with others. It may be that they recognise that there is safety in numbers, and another theory is that, when feeding, most of the flock members can satisfy their hunger whilst one or two of them keep guard.

They take turns doing this and so warn their colleagues of the approach of predators and other dangers.

When the weather is cold and stormy, it seems to generate more flocks – some of those who take this action do not normally live in this way. Perhaps a common example is the wood pigeon. In our part of the world, these plentiful birds are usually seen in pairs, but as winter deepens so the flocks of wood pigeons seem to increase in both size and numbers.

Starlings appear to be content to flock with their own species, especially in those spectacular mass flights known as murmurations.

Other birds create similarly large flocks at this time of year – some of our waders such as knots and dunlin will do so and it is thought this is a form of protection against predators. A bird of prey, however skilled and powerful, will always find difficulty in penetrating a dense flock of potential victims who are moving rapidly.

A few days before writing these notes, my wife and I came across a huge flock of geese that appeared to have commandeered a small lake not far from where we live.

There were hundreds of them, mainly greylag geese and Canada geese, although we noticed a few mallard among them, plus a handful of tiny Brent geese.

Smaller birds seem to gather in smaller flocks. We were visited this morning by a flock of about a dozen long-tailed tits who chattered as they descended upon our bare cherry tree and promptly began to enjoy our bird feeders. This angered the resident blue tits, who chattered loudly at this intrusion. But it didn’t last very long – the long-tailed tits had other places to visit.

In the field opposite our house I noticed a small flock of tiny birds, probably not more than a dozen, all flying close to the ground but all calling with short notes. It was that note that gave me a clue. It sounded like ‘twite’ and when I checked the description of these visitors I am fairly certain that they were indeed twite!

Not very common birds, they are small streaky brown with light underparts, and when in flight, they bound along rather like other members of the finch family. In particularly severe winters, they might be found along our coastline where they feed on salt marshes, but for much of their time, they live on our moors and higher ground where they find the seeds of moorland plants.

If you want to enjoy watching large flocks of birds, the various RSPB reserves in this region can be guaranteed to put on a good show, but so can our coastal areas, particularly around river estuaries.

These provide massive feeding grounds for a wide variety of birds ranging from gulls to waders via some smaller species and, if you are lucky, the sight of a rare visitor or two.

Recently we were on a visit to North Wales and whilst walking on the sands of such an estuary, we were aware of a little egret standing only feet away and apparently more concerned with fishing than the proximity of humans. This handsome bird is rather like a miniature heron and is easily recognised by its pure white plumage, long dark beak and long black legs. It also sports some rather natty plumes on its head.

AS I compile these notes two weeks or so ahead of publication, it seems that December has bewildered much of our wildlife. It has been so mild with few frosts and we have seen butterflies in the garden, insects dancing above the fish pond and flowers bursting into blossom at the wrong time. We had reports of gardeners picking a second crop of raspberries and lawns flourishing with new growths of grass.

There have been several similar winters in the past but I do not keep such records although I have an account of the 1825 winter when it was so mild that blackbirds were nesting and laying eggs, with the weather more appropriate for May or June. Some three years later, the temperature in London reached 64 degrees Fahrenheit (just under 20C) on January 23, 1828.

In more usual terms, January is said to be the coldest month of the year. In 1205, on January 13, an historic frost froze the River Thames and it lasted until March 22 (albeit in the old-style calendar).

For several centuries afterwards it was quite common for the Thames to freeze solid so that fairs, markets and skating could be enjoyed on the ice.

As recently as 1940, there was a ferocious ice storm during the evening of January 27 when the falling rain froze immediately it touched the ground, and when the falling lumps of ice felled and mutilated thousands of trees.

The coldest day in January is said to be the Feast of St Hilary of Poitiers, which is celebrated on January 13.

This happened in England because it was on that date that the River Thames froze over.

We remember St Hilary because his feast day coincides with the beginning of legal terms and university terms.

These links with universities may have arisen because of his help to those with learning difficulties. He is also said to have banished all the snakes from an island he was visiting.

IPOPPED into a local hostelry recently when someone asked about the meaning of the beautifully kept horse-brasses that adorned one of the beams above the fireplace. It is very difficult to place a date on them but in their original form they were charms that protected horses against all sorts of evil and witchcraft.

In former times, a person’s business and even life depended upon horses and so they had to be protected against every kind of evil. If you look closely at the brasses on display in pubs, you’ll be able to identify a range of shapes that formed those charms. They might include half-moons, winged globes, hearts, hands, various flowers and leaves, images of the sun’s rays, and even horseshoes, wheels and swastikas.

The charms were worn on the horses’ harness or collars, and a complete set comprised some 17 or 18 symbols. Many were handed down through the family but when horses gave way to motor vehicles, those charms became ineffective.

At one time, they were valuable collector’s items and in fact, I have four hanging in our kitchen. I think they came to me from my grandfather but can’t be too sure.

All they seem to do now is to require polishing.