In September we have migration once more in full progress. Day by day our summer visitors are now deserting us; birds that spend the winter gregarious are closing up fast into flocks; Pipits, Twites, and other moorland species come down to the lowland fields; the Swallows and Martins congregate into those vast companies that invariably herald their departure. Song Thrushes in great numbers frequent the turnip-fields, as also do Meadow Pipits and Hedge Accentors; by the end of the month Missel-thrushes are in flocks upon the fields, as also are Starlings and Sparrows. Now the Ring-ouzels speed away to the south, and the Blackbird shows a far too unwelcome partiality for the fruit-garden. All the Warblers are migrating fast; the Rooks and Jays complete their moult, as also do the Chaffinch, the Redpole, and the Yellow Bunting. October, nut-brown October, finally clears away the last of our summer visitors, and brings us bird guests from the far north-east. One of the most familiar of these is the Redwing; they return with pleasing regularity to their old haunts. Now the coppices begin to swarm with migrant Goldcrests and Titmice; the Merlins leave the moors finally for the winter; a few Fieldfares come to us; the Stonechat quits the moorland roughs; the parties of Jays disband; flocks of Finches resort to the stubbles; the Yellow Bunting is gregarious once more; many of the Red Grouse resort to the highest parts of the moors; Pheasants are still moulting; Woodcocks and Jack Snipes appear in their accustomed winter haunts. On every side are indications of avine habits and movements characteristic of winter. The Robin, the Wren, and the Missel-thrush are now in charming voice, but the Starling is only an occasional singer, as is also the Sky-lark.
With November we welcome the principal arrival of the Fieldfare; the large flocks of Missel-thrushes disband; Song Thrushes, and Blackbirds decrease in numbers almost imperceptibly. The Robin now shows a marked tendency to leave exposed haunts, and to draw near to houses and gardens; the Goldcrests disperse, the Titmice are nothing near so gregarious; the House Sparrow deserts the fields and takes up its residence about farmyards and homesteads; the uplands are now almost entirely deserted; and shrubberies are filling rapidly with their mixed avine populations characteristic of the winter; the Yellow Bunting and the Lesser Redpole are still upon the stubbles left unploughed, whilst the Pied Wagtail resorts to them as soon as the share turns over the earth. In November the flocks of Bramblings return to the beech-woods for the winter, and bird-life generally becomes much more localized, crowded into areas where food and shelter chance to be found most easily. December is but an emphasizing of the preceding month. The Kestrel is now very rarely seen about the South Yorkshire woods and fields. Now come the periodical snow-storms that usually punctuate a Yorkshire winter, and with them bird-life becomes more or less disorganized. We have now much wandering to and fro, the recurring frosts drive birds from their usual haunts, and we meet with species in localities where they are seldom seen at any other time. Many birds change their food at such times; but others, not so adaptable, perish in large numbers, especially Redwings. From time to time flocks of Plovers or strings of Geese may be seen crossing over from one sea-board to the other, and the whole month is filled with considerable unrest among the feathered tribe. Avine song in this dreary month is principally confined to the Missel-thrush, the Robin, the Wren, and the Starling; more rarely the Sky-lark and the Hedge Accentor sing. And so the month draws on, and gradually completes the cycle of the year with the advent of January, the latter bringing with it a few slight changes that indicate the beginning of another round of avine phenomena.