March Movement in Self Isolation.

I was beginning to feel as though my casual assertion that March would bring some Redpoll and Siskin to the garden, was rather rash, but on Monday, I was alerted by a burst of "see-you" calls eminating from the rush of birds dissolving into the apple trees as I approached the feeders to top them off.

Back in the kitchen, a few minutes later I saw two female Siskins settle onto the niger feeder - head down in their typical fashion, one bird only visible by the tip of its tail poking from the rear of the metal tube. They were joined by a Goldfinch for a nice comparison - each species beautiful in its own idiosyncratic way. One a gaudy splash of contrasting colour, and the other a muted arrangement of complementary grey-green and black, highlighted with lemon.

They didn't stay long, and by the next day the main attraction was again the Reed Buntings - seven males huddled about the foot of the bird table, gleaning scraps that fell from the feeders as the Great Tits messily poked through the seed cache.

Peregrine

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPugk02q0i4&app=desktop

It's always a treat when I get an e-mail from Simon Stirrup because they'll always be a cracking photograph attached.  We have frequent Peregrines around the E10 but it isn't easy to get such a fantastic image as the one above.  Over on the Washes at Welney this Aythya hybrid (I like Simon's Fool's Scaup label) was showing well.  

ReedHeads

Just some of the Reed Buntings caught and ringed in the garden over the last few years - all in march and April. It's this time of year when they pass through in good numbers. we ringed a couple of males on Saturday, and today there were four unringed  birds hopping about. There had been a ringed male for a few days last week, so that makes at least seven, and with numbers of females fairly similar, it goes to show just how many birds can pass through without our knowledge. 

The close up views gives a wonderful opportunity to see the surprising amount of variation in pattern - mostly down to feather wear.

Gender Phluid.

                                                                                             

                                                                                                                                                             One of the Pheasants is Woke. Each year, up to a dozen pheasants wander round the garden, hoovering up the spillage from the feeders and generally milling about hiding from the local sportsmen. There's usually one or two males and a loose harem of females, and come the Spring the males start making noises and approach the females, plumage contorted in the stilted ceremony that shows off the iridescent Pre-Raphaelite patterns of maroon, red gold and deep pacific blue.  

But a few weeks ago, I noticed that one male was not quite the regal chevalier his garden mate had turned out to be. My first thought was that he was a young bird that hadn't fully moulted, but over a few days inspection - a different idea has emerged. 

It's long past the date where young birds have finished their moult into adult plumage, and yet this one bird still has not attained the greenish blue head with bold scarlet wattles and shining ear tufts. Its scapulars and mantle are still faded umber and black, and its orange underparts lack the glossy black diamonds and drops that give a male Pheasant its characteristic metallic feel. And it's small. Eventually I managed to see it side by side with one of the females - and apart from the longer tail, they were more or less the same size.

                                                                                                                                             

In close up, it was obvious the plumage  had both male and female features, with many feathers being an intermediate pattern. The bird has not appeared interested in the other females - no displaying or even stalking, and interestingly, the other - or should I say only male has attempted to court this bird a couple of times, slowly following it across the grass and adopting the hunchbacked, droop flanked, head bowing posture reminiscent of a Japanese kabuki actor sidling across the stage.

Side by side with the obvious male, this other bird is much smaller, and with all the other evidence taken into consideration, I guess it must be a female. I've never seen this genetic cross-dressing in Pheasants before - and I've seen a lot of pheasants over the years. But this is the 21st century after all - so deal with it.

Everything's Gone Grey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_KcC8O_HOQ&app=desktop

Back in February 1989, as a 14 year old teenager, I saw my very first Great Grey Shrike at the gravel pits at New Hythe, Kent.  This Shrike and a nearby Waxwing, provided a diversion for the mass of twitchers who descended upon the area to see the iconic rarity of the era, the Larkfield Golden Winged Warbler. 

I had fixated on seeing a Shrike for many years, religously pouring over artistic portrayals by Thorburn, Lars Jonsonn, Hilary Burn, Alan Harris, John Busby, Jan Wilczur, Bruce Pearson and Robert Gillmor awaiting my first encounter with a monochrome butcherbird.  Conversely I had little idea of what a Golden Winged Warbler should look like, no real sense of expectation - it was just mega rare.   

Now I'm not daft enough to say that the Shrike overshadowed seeing the dazzling transatlantic vagrant but it certainly added tremendously to an incredibly exciting and memorable day (thanks Dad xx).  

Great Grey Shrikes are still one of my very favourite birds to watch and I relish time in their presence.  A couple of weekends ago my Sunday looked busy, I managed an enjoyable grabbed hour at Sutton Gault between family taxi runs.  The light was great and wildfowl crowded on the sheltered flooded field opposite the main wash.  Wigeon and Teal predominated with a couple of handsome drake Pintail resting nearby - all took to the air as a Peregrine cut through the blue sky and harried Pigeon and Jackdaw alike.  Amongst the Greylag a couple of Russian White-fronted Geese were a welcome treat.  

By afternoon we were scoffing cake and tea following a potter out to Oxborough Hall NT near Swaffham.  I did hope that I might get to look in at a rather temperamental Great Grey Shrike at Fitcham on the way home but with my sister, wife and two young girls filling the car I guessed I would be on a pretty short time scale.  On arrival there was no sign of the Shrike but an enjoyable scene of boxing Hare and a sizeable herd of Roe Deer including some fine antlered bucks was to be enjoyed and then, behind the deer, the Shrike popped up - sentinel of the hedgerow a top.a blossoming Hawthorn but very distant.

Enjoying the views I took my leave so as not to test anyones patience.  Driving back down the lane and closer to the hedge I had another look, this time the bird flew high and towards us and within a minute it had landed on the telegraph wires along the road.  Stealthily I moved towards it but the birders leaving the site showed that the bird could be approached closely by car.  Shortly I was left alone with the masked bandit who just got on with a late feeding flurry in the golden evening light.  I was exhilarated by the quality of the views, particularly in light of the distance of observation in its preferred hedge.  When the sun dropped behind the steel grey clouds along the horizon the light failed and I headed home a happy chap.

A couple of days later something else great and grey befell me.  I have been waiting a little while for Ben to finish a painting that enthralled me from the moment I saw it. A huge pillarbox canvas of scandinavian pines sheltering the ghost of the forest.  My last trip to Finland cleaned up on the northern owls and this Great Grey Owl was a highlight amongst highlights.  The memory of seeing this bird solemnly eyeballing us from his perch before drifting silently on arced wings through the needling boughs had stayed with me.  When I saw that Ben had captured that shared moment with such sense of presence I needed to buy it and have the chance to relish it everyday.....here it is on my snug wall.