Country diary: Two mistle thrushes goad each other, nerves frayed | Mary Montague

Lagan Valley Regional Park, Belfast: This is no Valentine's croon, it's about fierce protection of diminishing resourcesA blackbird chuckles its extravagant alarm. Below that outburst, there's a slurred fizz, like a sigh to manage a barely held temper. As I step forward, the mistle thrush's voice explodes with fricatives. I'm not sure if his rattle is directed at me, or - I can just about hear another tattoo at the far side of the tree-fringed meadow - at another mistle thrush.As if to settle the matter, the nearest bird swoops into the open. My binoculars struggle to follow him but, before they catch up, his song leads me to the apex of a tall oak. A different species might lurk below the twig-line to thwart a hawk's ambush. Not this bruiser. There he is, standing to attention with his puffed-out breast, ready for all comers. Continue reading...