Stands of tufted hair-grass, some over a metre tall, burned beige by the summer heat, were churned by strong autumn westerlies. Over and through the vegetation’s swaying lather roved a flock of about 200 goldfinches, most of them this year’s young. They were intent on the hanks of thistle and knapweed seed which lay below the hair-grass “canopy”.
These immature finches lack any of the red and black bands of the adult’s head. Instead of the smooth mocha buff on their parents’ underparts, the youngsters were dull and streaky. What they had to perfection were the semi-circular disks of yellow across each black wing, while every feather through that full fan was tipped with white.
