Milestones
Alcollarín Reservoir (Martin Kelsey) A blustery late afternoon in mid-November and I pause to watch a large flock of small birds that zing like a wind-blown sheet pegged to a washing-line. They gather on the ovine-nibbled sward beside feed mangers in a small paddock populated by some ewes and lambs, under the shade of broad holm oaks. For no apparent cause, a "dread" sweeps across them and they retreat into the trees, like the sheet torn off the line. A minute or so later they calmly descend again, as if the sheet gently floats back to the ground. This woosh of panic and then calm happens every few minutes. Most of them are sparrows, both House and their chunkier Spanish cousins. But there are also Chaffinches amongst them, and where there is a large winter flock of these, then there is always a chance of their northern counterparts: Bramblings. I settle down with my 'scope to pan across the groups of feeding birds once they are on the ground. It is frustrating - it see