Which British garden bird actually deserves the title of nation's feathered favourite?

Charming, bold and apparently incapable of staying out of a Boxing Day photo. But is the redbreast living off past glories and clever marketing?

Tiny, scrappy, and willing to hang upside down for a sunflower seed. The plucky underdog every Brit secretly roots for.

That liquid morning song belongs to him. Less flashy than the rest, but arguably the finest vocalist on your lawn.

Red face, gold wing flash, and a posh tinkling call. Basically the bird equivalent of someone who summers in Cornwall.

Forever scoffing the seed meant for everyone else and crashing through hedges like a drunk uncle at a wedding. Loathed, yet weirdly beloved.