“There is beauty in every January sunrise - a new day, a new opportunity to grow” Unknown
Welcome back! Grab yourself another tasty beverage and wrap up warm, as I share with you the remaining highlights of the month of January.
If you haven’t read part one just yet, you can do so here
Robins
Robins are one of my personal favourites. Whenever I see them, I feel reassured, protected. Perhaps this is to do with the fact that in Celtic mythology they are believed to carry messages from deceased loved ones?
My robin adventures in January began with a solitary robin. It quickly became a regular feature at my bird feeder, feasting on the fat balls. Then it discovered the fat filled coconut that had fallen from its hanging place and landed under the holly bush. I regularly spotted it enjoying its own private banquet, having found the food stash long before any other birds.
As the month progressed, the singing of robins in my field increased. Occasionally I could hear one song, then another being repeated from a distance. Then ‘robin wars’ began! My feisty robin regularly chased of any other bird in its space. Then I witnessed two of them whizzing around the holly bush outside my kitchen window, as my robin chased another who dared to trespass on its territory. I feel quite proud when I see this happen, the robin is protective of its patch. I do go to a lot of trouble to make the environment comfortable for my birds, so I can’t blame them for being protective!
Later that day, I once again heard two robins singing to each other, across the field. The highlight of January was the moment when I first witnessed two robins sharing the same patch. One was feeding at my bird feeder, and the other was close by, enjoying a luxurious bath. They were perfectly content in each others company. I have seen them since, feeding together in the same area. It is just so heart-warming to see; another sign of forthcoming spring and hopefully baby robins to follow!
A Taste of Spring
After the snow, and just before the frost returned, I stepped out into the garden to be greeted by the warmth of a sun that felt somehow different. It felt stronger, and that little bit warmer. The light was richer somehow. I heard the soft coo of collared dove, calling to me from a distant summer evening, like being called to wake from a dream. There was a sense of life stirring underground and in the trees and hedgerows. I noticed green buds appearing on the tree branches, and the first catkins on the hazel. It was just for a day or two, but it felt like a gift from nature, a reminder of what I had to look forward to, beyond the cold, dreary damp days of late winter.
The Field Mouse
Checking my wildlife camera, I thought the frame was empty. Then, as I peered closer, I spotted a tiny light, that might just have been the eyes of a creature. When I played the accompanying video footage, I was delighted to see a tiny field mouse, nibbling on the seed I had put out. I rarely ever capture a mouse, they are so quick, and so secretive. I have since seen her again, jumping like a jack in the box. It is impressive how high she can jump for something so small. I’m fascinated by this tiny endearing creature, so I’m sure she will become the subject of a future Substack article.
The Day The Snow Came
Opening my curtains on 5th January to a world blanketed in white, snowflakes falling softly from a cottonwool sky, filled me with childlike excitement. (You can read more about it in my article here) My wildlife camera captured a beautiful image of a robin watching the snow fall. The first bird to appear on camera that morning. How fitting it would be a robin? That cheeky little chap that graces so many Christmas cards. I shouldn’t be surprised he would appear for a photo opportunity.
The fun didn’t stop when the snow melted either, as it created a mini lake in my field. I had a wonderful time in my wellies, paddling and splashing around with my dogs. It reminded of my childhood in the Yorkshire Wolds, where I would take every opportunity to paddle in any kind of water source, streams and puddles alike.

The Long Tailed Tits
These are definitely my winter favourites. They are just unbelievably cute! I hadn’t seen long tailed tits before, until we moved here, and now they are a winter regular. A couple of weeks ago, as the sun scribbled a terracotta streak across the deep blue morning sky, I heard a noisy chatter of birdsong coming from my wildlife garden. I crept closer, and witnessed a flock of long tailed tits, around seven or eight of them, who were so intent on their fat-ball feast that they allowed me to get within a few metres of them.
They are delightful little birds. I love how they travel in groups, you never see one alone. They also share so nicely with one another, unlike the squabbling starlings or sparrows that fight over every morsel. One insistent bird sat up in the plum tree above the others, shouting loudly as if to say ‘come on, hurry up, it’s my turn!’ But he waited patiently until there was space, before hopping down and having his fill.

The Sparrowhawk
I know that we have a resident sparrowhawk. I see it often, whizzing around the bird feeder at impressive speed, attempting to catch a small bird before it can escape into the depths of the holly bush to safety. It is rarely successful, much to my relief. That was until the day in January when I went to do some washing up, and noticed something moving down under the privet hedge, behind the holly bush.
It was a sparrowhawk, cautiously eating something that looked like it may have once been a small bird. I watched, in equal parts horror and awe, as it devoured its meal, surreptitiously glancing around every few seconds to check that it was safe. Wishing (as always) that I had a better camera than just my iPhone, I tried to take a photograph. I must have spooked it, as it rose into the air with its prey in its talons, reminding me of a dragon-like beast in a fantasy movie. I could see the colours of the small bird, revealing it to be a chaffinch. I felt sad for the poor little bird, but I was also awed by the skill of the hunter, and appreciate that the sparrowhawk needs to eat too. It’s all part of nature’s cycle of life and death.
The Frost
I love how the arrival of the frost brings a bit of shimmer and sparkle to the darkest months, when everything is grey, brown and subdued. It also gives me a brief time out from the mud and mess. It’s so satisfying hearing the crunch underfoot whilst out walking, knowing my wellies will not become caked in mud. In the evenings, walking with our headlamps, I spent the entire time exclaiming ‘‘oooh’’ and ‘‘ahhh’’ and ‘‘wow!’’ as the beams of light revealed tiny twinkling lights everywhere they shone.
Everything glittered and it seemed as though a fairy godmother had waved her wand over my garden, sprinkling her magic dust everywhere. The air felt crisp and fresh, and every walk outside felt like I was being cleansed from the stress of my day, and I returned to work feeling refreshed and revitalised.

The Nuthatch
Mid-January we paid a visit to a local nature reserve, a wood we hadn’t visited before. At the entrance we discovered a large bird feeder, filled with all kinds of tasty delicacies, which was attracting a large number of songbirds. The air was filled with the pleasant chattering of robins, blackbirds, finches and sparrows as they hopped around in the branches of the pine and birch trees above us. As I looked up I spotted a cheeky grey squirrel leaping through the treetops.
Then, I noticed a beautiful bird I had never seen before. A nuthatch. It hung upside down as it feasted on the sunflower seeds. I was mesmerised by this unusual eating behaviour. I have since learned that walking upside down may give nuthatches a different perspective that helps them find food that other birds miss. Smart bird! It was freezing that day, and we weren’t prepared, so our walk was incredibly short, but I went home feeling incredibly satisfied that the drive had been worth it, to see a brand new bird.
Whilst researching for this article, I came across the following quote:-
If January had a slogan, it’d be: “Do Better Next Month”
Unknown.
I have to agree with this on a personal level, far too many resolutions have already fallen by the wayside. Yet as far as nature is concerned, I think you’ll agree with me that January has done a wonderful job! It has been my absolute pleasure to review the month of January and share it with you here. If you have joined me until the end, I thank you for your company.
It strikes me just how full one single month can be with wonderful nature encounters. This is precisely the reason I started this Substack, to encourage me to take more time to notice the wonder all around me.
Re-experiencing the magic as I write, has reminded me how grateful I am for this wonderful place that I live, and for the season of winter.
Yet, I also look ahead with anticipation to spring, which I am sure will gift me with many more stories to tell!
Please do share any of your favourite January nature moments with me in the comments. I would love to hear them.
Until next time.
Melissa 💚
Beautiful! Our U.S. robins look rather different from yours, but yours are so cute! I don't honestly know whether our migrate from somewhere else, but we do seem to have an awful lot of them starting in January. They're such lovely singers, too.
I love seeing the robins too - they really do bring such comfort 🙏🌿