LIKE so many people at this time of year, we have been putting out food for our garden birds.

Our reward has been the antics of a variety of species as they jostle for places only feet from our kitchen window - we've seen lots of blue tits and great tits, house sparrows and finches such as greenfinches and chaffinches, the occasional robin and dunnock, along with other less frequent visitors such as a siskin and even what I thought was a chiff-chaff, lingering very late in the North of England many weeks out of season. I reckon the recent cold spell will have persuaded him to go on his normal travels!

Starlings have been conspicuous by their absence, probably because our hanging food containers are designed to prevent the intrusion of similar sized birds. No thrushes or blackbirds have been tempted to try to feed here either and this year did not witness the arrival of a green woodpecker which has visited us on an earlier occasion, nor have we noticed any bullfinches or goldfinches.

In some ways, these garden feeding stations are a mirror of the prevailing bird population. It is an interesting means of observing the travelling habits of birds - some here in November or December may now have left for warmer climates, even going merely to other parts of this country. Our resident population of birds does tend to migrate in pursuit of food and to seek better weather.

Our northern robins, blackbirds and thrushes will travel a long way if food is in short supply, or if the winter weather is particularly severe - but it is fair to say that our offering of bird food, in the past week or so, has been dominated by blue tits, great tits and house sparrows.

It is the presence of house sparrows in considerable numbers which intrigue me because there are persistent reports that their population is declining.

They are not alone in this - numbers of other species are falling - but the house sparrow, often described as "humble," is one bird most of us can recognise. Because it lives among houses and people, even in the most industrialised of places, and haunts urban parks where people provide it with crumbs from their packed lunches, the house sparrow almost fulfils the role of our national bird.

It does have a country cousin, however. This is the tree sparrow which is remarkably similar in appearance, except that this bird has a chestnut brown crown while the house sparrow has a grey one.

I have heard people refer to any group of small birds as a flock of sparrows even though they might be finches or titmice, and when I was checking to see whether our poets had ever eulogised the sparrow in their verses, I was surprised to find that sparrows are featured in the Bible on at least half-a-dozen occasions.

Biblical birds

On three of those occasions sparrows were seen as almost worthless - Luke xii.6 asks: Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten by God? while in Matthew x.29, there is the question: Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and in x.31 he states: Ye are of more value than many sparrows.

It seems, however, that biblical references to sparrows do include a range of other small birds, not necessarily those which feed merely on grain. The name includes those which (and I quote): "are denominationally clean, and those which might be eaten according to the law." It would seem, therefore, that "sparrows" (whatever they really were) did have some value as food.

The biblical references seem to include a range of insect-eating and fruit-eating species, including thrushes, starlings, larks, nightingales, wagtails and finches. The term "sparrow" did not include swallows, martins, nightjars or crows, however, nor any bird considered unclean according to the laws of the time.

Like so many of our own people, therefore, it seems that the people of the biblical countries grouped a whole range of small birds within the single name of sparrow.

This leads to another interesting association between sparrows and religious faith in this country. It was the Venerable Bede (AD 673-735) who recorded the conversion to Christianity of Coifi, the adviser to King Edwin of Northumbria.

His words were later adapted by the poet Wordsworth. In a moving speech, Coifi attempted to show the brevity of human life by comparing it to the fleeting visit of a sparrow flying into a house in winter, entering swiftly by one door and leaving immediately by another.

As Bede recorded, that brief respite from the chill of winter was like human life, adding, "of what follows and what went before, we are utterly ignorant." Coifi made that speech at Goodmanham in the East Riding of Yorkshire in AD627 in what is regarded as a cradle of Christianity in the North. So the "sparrow" does feature in English Christianity - but was it really a sparrow?

Notable absence

Continuing the topic of bird sightings, this week has produced a couple of interesting experiences. A ramble through a forest of conifers on the North York Moors was remarkable for its absence of wild animals and birds.

Normally, I'd expect to see evidence of wild animals, either in the form of actual sightings of the creatures or some indication of their presence - I'd expect to notice evidence of animals like grey squirrels, fallow deer, mice and voles, stoats and weasels or even foxes and badgers, along with some birds such as wood pigeons, pheasants, blackbirds or even jays.

In this case, there was nothing, a phenomenon noticed by a fellow rambler with whom I struck up a conversation. He had also expected to see more signs of wild life along his route and had seen nothing, not even a pheasant or a small bird of any kind.

And then I noticed one bird - just one. It was a great spotted woodpecker which emerged from a plantation of larches to fly across my path while uttering its distinctive call. I believe this bird is now more common than its cousin, the green woodpecker, but it was just one bird noticed in a ramble of some six miles.

The forest in question had clearly been recently subjected to a severe session of timber felling and it did look most battered and bruised - perhaps an explanation for the absence of wildlife?

The second experience was more fruitful. My wife and I took a winter walk along Scarborough's south bay sands and were rewarded by the sight of sanderlings galore, scurrying along almost beneath our feet, as well as a colony of turnstones busily inspecting piles of seaweed and pebbles.

The sanderlings, tiny silver-grey waders with twinkling legs, were dodging the incoming waves as they hunted for morsels along the waterline. They ignored people and dogs, and literally trotted about their urgent business with human visitors only yards away. Nearby, and at times mingling with the sanderlings, was a group of turnstones.

Turnstones are slightly larger than sanderlings, about the size of a blackbird perhaps, and their winter plumage consists of a very dark grey or dull black wings, back and breast with white underparts. Their legs are orange which is a ready means of identification as they range along the shore seeking food. They hunt it by turning over pebbles to see what lurks beneath, but they will also turn over seashells, pieces of driftwood, seaweed and even rubbish in their persistent hunt for tasty morsels.

With sanderlings and turnstones entertaining us on the beach, we soon found a colony of other seabirds on a slipway adjoining the pavement which runs along the harbourside.

With people passing only feet above, we spotted herring gulls, greater blackbacked gulls, black-headed gulls in their winter plumage, more turnstones and a pair of cormorants. None of these birds was alarmed by the presence of human beings as they sat on the concrete slipway, apparently waiting for the tide to recede when lots of goodies would be revealed.

And finally, the plural of fox is foxes and box is boxes, so why is the plural of ox given as oxen