Last month we had one of the biggest snowfalls in the history of the Natal Midlands (and it was meant to be the start of our summer). We have been living here for over 4 years now and although it has snowed before at our home, it has never snowed like this! We had around 15cm of snow on our front lawn, while other areas nearby had over 30cm. The indigenous trees struggled to handle the volume and weight of the snow and we awoke to fallen trees all over our garden, thankfully missing the house.

At early morning light I walked outside to hear the crashing of trees in the nearby Afromontane forest. Every few minutes another branch or trunk would crack and fall to the ground, creating an eerie atmosphere. It was also still snowing when I got up, which afforded me a rare opportunity to take photographs of many African bird species in very odd conditions. Although snow like this is fairly regular in our high altitude, mountainous areas in South Africa, it is very unusual at such low altitudes and hence, many of these species have rarely experienced such thick snowfall and consequently, very few images exist of them in these conditions.

Despite the interesting photographs, this newsletter will also share some of my observations. This is the first time I have been able to do photography in the Natal Midlands where there is thick snow on the ground and it is still snowing. Consequently, I noticed behaviour and adaptation that was a first for me and I hope you enjoy the observations that follow.

As always, I look forward to hearing from you!

My next newsletter will be focused on a once in a lifetime moment with my local family of Grey-crowned Cranes.

SOUTH AFRICAN BIRDS IN THE SNOW

It was still snowing when I ventured outdoors. The landscape was completely transformed. What were the usual shades of dark and light green were now a white wonderland.

I expected to see European robins, cedar waxwings and blue tits out and about, but instead there were a variety of common South African birds going about their business.

Lapwings were chasing each other around, Hadada Ibises were doing flyovers and making their usual racket, yellow-billed ducks and Egyptian geese were floating about on the unfrozen water courses and olive thrushes were looking for any sign of food in the undergrowth.

Same birds but all was not the same! After a couple of hours of walking around I noticed that some birds were not acting there normal selves. Having spent thousands of hours walking around my local patch and consequently, getting to know the birds and their behaviours incredibly well, I could tell that the snow was causing some necessary adjustments.

Sunbirds were congregating around certain plants in vast numbers. Although I had seen them at these places before, never in these numbers and never so confiding. It seemed as though they were just thankful that there was a source of food and that they were not going to let anyone or anything interfere with their food collection. There was a sense of urgency in the air.

What was more bizarre was watching a few African stone chats trying to hang out with the white eyes. They were in the same feeding party and were using the same tactics to feed as the white eyes. If you know stone chats, they are typically grassland birds that feed from perches in the open. I see them around the edges of our dams on occasion, but this is the first time I have seen them feeding from the branches of pine trees as well as trying to hawk insects from these perches.

The weirdest behaviour must, however, go to the Fork-tailed Drongos. I often see them in front of our garden hawking various insects from the trees and perches. Their diet includes everything from cicadas, to beetles, to dragonflies and other 6 legged team members. Today was the first day I have seen them catch and eat a small bird though. It felt like a scene from “Society of the Snow” and the story of a plane crash in the Andes some years back. Desperate times calls for desperate measures!

I also found that some of the smaller bird species were really battling to survive the cold. I observed a southern black tit taking refuge in the fork of a tree. I could have reached out and grabbed him, as he sat dead still and seemingly to tired or cold to escape my presence.

In addition, I located a common waxbill sitting on one of the golf course fairways, on its own and in the middle of nowhere. It allowed a close approach and similar to the tit seemed incapacitated and out of sorts.

I also added a new species to our garden list, as this was the first time I have seen Swee Waxbills feeding on our front lawn. The collapsed trees provided some shelter and the lawn grass seemed to recover more quickly than elsewhere.

It was a fascinating few hours and an opportunity that may not come around for some time to come. It emphasized the value of knowing our home patches, the birds in them and the importance of observing bird behaviour if we want to tell stories as photographers.