Why Winter Is the Hungriest Time of Year

By the time the clocks go back, most of the easy pickings have gone. Insects have vanished into leaf litter and dead wood, seed heads have been stripped, and the ground is often too hard for a blackbird to probe for worms. For the birds that overwinter with us — and for the redwings, fieldfares and bramblings that arrive from Scandinavia — the difference between a comfortable winter and a desperate one often comes down to berries.

A garden with a few well-chosen native shrubs can carry dozens of birds right through to March. The plants that do this best are the ones that evolved alongside our birds: thorny, generous and utterly unfussy about soil. Hawthorn, holly and blackthorn are the three I would plant first in any British garden, and they are even better grown together.

Hawthorn: The Backbone of a Wildlife Hedge

Common hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) is the most valuable single shrub you can put in a British garden. Its haws ripen to a deep, dull red from late September, and a mature bush can carry thousands of them. They are taken early, usually by blackbirds, song thrushes and the first wave of migrant thrushes, so treat hawthorn as the opening course of the winter larder rather than the last resort.

The value does not stop at berries. Hawthorn supports more than 300 species of insect, from the caterpillars that feed blue tit chicks in May to the hoverflies and bees drawn to its frothy white blossom. Its dense, thorny structure is one of the safest places a dunnock or chaffinch can build a nest, and in winter it becomes a dormitory for sparrows and a roost site for wrens. It grows in almost any soil, tolerates wind and salt, and responds well to being cut.

Holly: The Late-Winter Larder

Holly (Ilex aquifolium) is the plant that saves the day in February. Its berries are unusually high in sugar and are generally left alone until the weather turns properly hard; when they soften, they vanish quickly. If you have ever watched a single mistle thrush defend a berry-laden holly against all comers, you have seen exactly how valuable that tree is.

The catch is that holly is dioecious: only female plants berry, and they need a male nearby to pollinate them. Plant them in groups of three or more, with at least one male, and you will get fruit. Holly is slow-growing and tolerant of shade, which makes it ideal for the shady end of a hedge or a north-facing boundary where little else thrives. As an evergreen it also gives birds somewhere to shelter from wind and rain, and somewhere to hide from sparrowhawks.

Blackthorn: Sloes, Blossom and Early Cover

Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa) is the wild, suckering cousin of the plum, and it earns its place twice over. Its sloes — blue-black, dusty and mouth-puckeringly sharp — soften after the first hard frosts and are then stripped by fieldfares, redwings and mistle thrushes. Left on the bush, they will keep birds fed into January.

Blackthorn also flowers early, usually in March and often before its leaves appear, which is why a cold snap in that month is still called a blackthorn winter. Those early blooms are a lifeline for queen bumblebees and early solitary bees just out of hibernation. The plant throws up suckers freely, so it knits into an impenetrable thicket in a few years — perfect nesting cover, and a genuine stock-proof barrier along a boundary.

Planting a Mixed Hedge That Actually Works

The trick with all three is to plant them together, in a mixed hedge. A single species gives you a short window of food; a mixture gives you berries from September to March, shelter all year, and far more insects.

• Plant bare-root whips between November and March, whenever the ground is not frozen or waterlogged. Bare-root plants are cheaper, establish faster and come in far more variety than potted stock.
• Set them in a double, staggered row about 35–45cm apart within the row and 40cm between rows, so the stems knit into a dense thicket rather than a line of isolated bushes.
• Aim for roughly 60 per cent hawthorn, 20 per cent blackthorn and 10 per cent holly, with the remainder made up of guelder rose, dog rose, field maple, spindle or hazel for variety.
• Buy holly as larger plants, or accept that it will sulk for two or three years before it gets going. It is worth the wait.
• Mulch well and water through the first two summers. After that, a native hedge largely looks after itself.
• Short on space? A single holly in a border, or three metres of hawthorn along a fence, still makes a measurable difference.

Managing It for Birds Rather Than Tidiness

The commonest mistake is cutting a berry hedge at the wrong time. Trimming in autumn or early winter removes the very crop you planted it for, so leave the hedge alone from September until the berries have been eaten.

Cut on a rotation instead: trim one side or one section each year, in late February, after the fruit has gone but before birds begin nesting in March. Never cut a hedge hard between March and August. Where you can, leave the trimmings in a loose pile at the base — it makes excellent cover for invertebrates and foraging birds.

Finally, resist the urge to tidy underneath. Leave the leaf litter and the fallen haws, and put a shallow bird bath within a metre or two of the hedge so birds have somewhere safe to drink and bathe. Give a mixed native hedge three or four years and it will reward you with blackcaps on the berries, long-tailed tits working the twigs, and the sort of busy, ticking, rustling winter garden that feels properly alive.