IT will not have escaped the attention of many that tomorrow, Saturday, is February 14, perhaps better known as St Valentine’s Day. By long tradition, it been regarded as the time when wild birds find their mates and there does appear to be some truth in this as, despite bouts of wintry weather, our local birds seem to have already selected their partners.

A robin has been singing from some nearby silver birches, male blackbirds are strutting about with females alongside and the blue tits seem to be extraordinarily busy with one popping into our nest box to check it for suitability as a family home. It served that purpose last year when a brood of eight was raised – and we were privileged to watch them fly the nest.

One fascinating if short observation occurred during this year’s annual RSPB Great Garden Birdwatch on January 25 when a plump and handsome male bullfinch arrived. It was during the final seconds of our watch and we were amazed to see him jump into our fish pond. He splashed around for a few moments among the weeds, apparently having a lovely bath, and then leapt onto the side. At that point, he was joined by a female who seemed highly impressed by both his smart appearance and his bravado, then they flew off together. I must admit I have never before seen a bullfinch jump into a fish pond but it ]scored two more sightings for our bird watch.

Valentine’s Day is also the date when gardeners are supposed to get busy for the oncoming year. Seeds are planted and the crocus is supposed to bloom. Snowdrops are already in bloom with in the wild and in gardens.

Beans are also planted while, when sowing them, it was the practice to use four for each one expected to reach maturity. The old verse was: “One to rot and one to grow, one for the pigeon and one for the crow.”

It is also Plum Shuttle Eating Day in some parts of the North; these are dough buns shaped like shuttles used in the textile industry, and they are made with caraway seeds and currants.

Although we are familiar with the central tradition of St Valentine’s Day – sending anonymous declarations of love to our hearts’ desires – it is fair to say that few are aware of the origin of this romantic custom.

It is named in honour of a saint called Valentine, but the snag is that no one is certain which of them in honoured by this long-standing custom.

There are at least 52 saints called Valentine, but only two share this feast day – and both were martyred by being beheaded.

One has a church dedicated to him on the Flaminian Way, in Rome, where he is buried. He was thought to be a priest or physician of that name and was beheaded during the 3rd century persecutions by Claudius the Goth, being buried on the Flaminian Way, where his tomb became the focus of pilgrimages.

The other St Valentine was the Bishop of Terni, in Italy, and he was also martyred. He was beheaded in Rome but his remains were returned to Terni where, in 350, a church was built over his tomb. There is a suggestion that these martyrs might have been the same person, with two slightly differing accounts to explain their martyrdom.

In both lives, there is nothing to indicate that they originated the custom of sending love tokens. However, one story says that when a priest called Valentine was in jail awaiting execution by the pagans, he sent a note to the pretty daughter of his jailer, thanking her for her friendship and kindness during his imprisonment. It is said he signed it “Your Valentine”.

It seems that in England the romantic custom began when maidens, anxious to find their true loves, would make decorated messages that were place in a large urn. Hopeful young men would then come along to pick out a message at random rather like tombola. A lad would then escort the girl who had written the message he selected, taking her to the fairs or upon other romantic outings. He was expected to continue this for a year, perhaps with marriage following, and it is said the Catholic Church showed its approval by transferring the custom to St Valentine’s Day.

One old Yorkshire custom on St Valentine’s Day was for a lovesick girl to take a hard boiled egg, remove the yolk and fill the cavity with salt. Before going to bed, she would eat the egg after which she must neither talk nor drink. Having completed this ritual, it was believed she would dream of the man she would marry.

It does seem that the St Valentine’s Day custom of sending anonymous cards is based on one or more myths but one persistent suggestion is that it arose because it is the day when wild birds select their mates.

A surpise guest in the garden

On the topic of the RSPB Great Garden Bird Watch, the term garden birds is of fairly recent origin and includes those we expect to visit our feeders, or perhaps nest near the house. They include many small birds, but I doubt if we could include herring gulls, rooks, buzzards, red kites, partridges and herons.

Even when our gardens are subjected to fly-pasts by those larger visitors, they seldom land on our lawns or accept our hospitality.

I would not describe any of the latter as garden birds, even if we saw them regularly. Nonetheless, our modest garden has been host to wood pigeons, collared doves, magpies, a green woodpecker, a great spotted woodpecker, carrion crows, jackdaws, pheasants, a sparrow hawk and herons. I’ve even experienced the sight of a nutcracker (not a nut-hatch) on a tree close to our garden wall, and a corncrake in a nearby field.

But our birds can always spring a surprise. We were having a cup of tea when a neighbour called and as we enjoyed the occasion, a large bird of prey arrived and perched on a wall literally 10ft or so (3m) from the house. I thought it was a very large sparrow hawk but took only seconds to realise it was too big and infinitely more threatening. It was larger than a buzzard and around the size of a red kite. But it was neither.

It remained long enough for me to obtain a reference book from my study. Binoculars were unnecessary and I returned to find it still on its original stone without trying to feed.

It didn’t take long to discover it was a female goshawk, best described as similar to female sparrow hawk with brown upper parts and streaked brown and white under-parts.

Because it remained for such a long time, with three humans watching at close range, I wondered if it had escaped from a falconry but in time it leisurely disappeared over the house, never to return.