Sunday, 4 September 2016

insert phrase about the irony of something that catches fish getting caught in a net

Prismatic beauty. Light scatters across spangled crown and flows down into an azure blaze that, upon turning, cools to a mint spray. In shadow it darkens like the deepest ocean, Prussian Blue. Intoxicating. Captured and yet captivating, an ornament of the river, as sharp as its call, as still as the fry-pools. Little Prince of Fishers on a Halcyon morning.






Wednesday, 24 August 2016

spring again

A bird appears. Silky smooth and dark like chocolate in the enveloping shadow cast by the aspens on the other side of the drove.
It's an upright bird, not a creeper- not a lawn hopper- it's feet never touch the ground.
Then it's away, flashing first across the hollow shadow, then a sunlit bush and over the crowning ash trees.


Further along the drove two Willow Warblers, mustard bellied youngsters, dart among the elm leaves, stopping only to practice next summer's tune. A Chiffchaff joins them and all of a sudden it's as if May has returned full of Spring-Song.

Saturday, 20 August 2016

reason to wander

I've been busy with lots of painting for various bird reports recently, and that has meant I haven't allowed myself time off to take in the sights of late summer as I would have wished. What i needed was an excuse to get away, and as I've got a Little Stint to paint, what better reason to drive up to the coast- just to get some reference you understand.
There have been stints seen at titchwell recently, and knowing how close you can often get to them there, i packed my sketchbook and headed off. I wanted to be at titchwell in the evening when the crowds had gone and the light less glaring, and luckily there was a perfect place to head for before hand, just to waste an hour or two. I had seen a report from Snettisham of a Wryneck seen in the morning, so i strolled along the bank in search of it.There was no sign of any other birder about, and there was very little activity in the early afternoon heat. A dry breeze lulled the low bushes behind the sea wall. The odd Whitethroat flicked among the brightening berries and a Linnet creaked its tune. A pale bird perched up and proved to be a Winchat. The Wryneck could be anywhere by now, and I turned back. 
A bird sprang from a small hawthorn bush- like a small thrush, or a large sylvia warbler- or... a Wryneck! it flew across the reedy pool and sheltered in the shade of a bush, then briefly settled in a bramble patch and was gone, flipping behind the sprawling tangle and out of sight. I waited, but it did not reappear, and I had a stint to sketch.


 Titchwell dozed in the afternoon sun. Ruff wandered along the muddy edges while hundreds of other waders loafed on the islands- oystercatchers spread out near some large gulls, godwits just off a spur switching like weather vanes as the wind began to strengthen. A party of terns settled down, only to be blown up into the air. They whipped across the lagoon then tacked back to the start, grounding alongside the Black-headed Gulls. Three Greenshank called as they sped out onto the freshmarsh, leaving their cousins the Redshanks to sleep in a sizeable gathering on a samphire covered mudbar.
As the evening wore on a Spoonbill flew over, and as I turned to the west, a flock of more than a dozen more lazily circled in the pink sky, disappearing near the glittering creek.
There was no stint. Knot, Dunlin, Golden and grey Plover all vied for my attention, but as the day faded I realised I was not going to get what I'd come for. But that doesn't matter for now.








Monday, 27 June 2016

The Great Pretender

"Lost in Sound" Tony Fulford recorded some beautiful song from a Marsh Warbler that took up short residence in the Ely10 earlier on the spring.  The site being inaccessible and sensitive was not suitable for visiting birders and therefore the news was, quite rightly, not publicised.  How many species can you hear mimicked by the bird.

 
A Marsh Warbler "giving it beans" in Poland


Sunday, 19 June 2016

englands dreaming

The waking marsh was quiet and tension-filled. Just a few godwits stood like marble statues in the silverwater. Then, as the red sun rose, groups of Knot rolled inland and spread across the shallows, herding like wildebeest or reindeer or bees or people. The sleeping jostling strolling preening mass began to change structure within itself, and before long, one bird stood out. A change of position brought the bird closer to us and changed the water sky blue- now streaked with the ripples of hundreds of wading cells that formed the whole being. The nucleus- our nucleus, disappeared from view and then reappeared as the weight of numbers flowed around it. We stared at the heart of this rare entity while the reedbed boomed.
Then hodgson brought on vardy and Sturridge- Get in!


Saturday, 18 June 2016

Another Velvet Morning

 
Following a week away with a couple of days around Fort William looking at Chequered Skippers I returned to the Fen to a report of a Little Bittern photographed at Wicken at some point during the spring.  It was as good an excuse as any to stretch the legs after 2 days of driving and breathe in the damp, sedge and rush of the evening.  A Barn Owl busied itself in the hunt, a Grasshopper Warbler reeled distantly and a fledged Reedling pinged and pitched about the Phragmites. The ditches alongside the boardwalks all looked perfect for a Little Bittern and Ben did some convincing barking to show willing.  Once the sun had dipped below the horizon a Great Bittern took a long and high flight to the west and a octet of Hobby danced above the Sallows at the edge of the mire.  I was glad to be home.
 
 
Having seen the Little Bittern photo I'm not convinced that it was taken at Wicken or indeed in this country, although that will all have to be considered if the sighting is submitted to any kind of records committee.  On the theme of rarities I was tempted to rise before the lark and head to Titchwell during the week in hope of seeing Britain's 5th Great Knot.  It was a good decision and alongside fantastic views of this Asian vagrant, a whole smorgasbord of North Norfolk delights put on a show.  Walking out towards the sunrise tight bands of Knot twisted against the orange glow and onto the freshmarsh, and a Spoonbill winged out towards Thornham.  We followed the clouds of  Knot as they twisted down onto the marsh and before setting eyes on the settled flock directions towards our quarry were drifting down the assembled line of folk. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
What a cracking bird and well worth the early rise.  We sought better light and closer views from the hide and were rewarded.  An hour of lovely birding ensued with plenty to divert from the bird but with regular returns to drink in the star of the show.  Six soot and spangled Spotted Redshank picked around, with needle like bills, at the back of the marsh.  Sandwich and Little Terns paid brief visits, while Little Ringed Plovers and Avocets saw off all comers with young tottering around on the mud edge and retreating to cower in the vegetation.  A vocal pair of Mediterranean Gulls flew over, pitched into the gull colony and then moved to the island just in front.  Raucous, vivid, bold and beautiful. 
 
 
 
 
 
Dragging ourselves away from the show and back along the reed edge, Bittern continued to boom and a male Bearded Tit hung on a close stem long enough to enjoy but not enough to savour.  A couple of hours later I was yawning at work, but it had been a rewarding and magical start to the day.   

Lost in Sound

At the very tail end of May, Mark Welch organises the Ely10 birders away from an evening in the pub and towards the forest.  For several years we have conducted Nightjar surveys for Forest Enterprises.  Our first trip of the season yielded several churring birds but was not a classic night of Nightjarring with few sightings.  Tony, his recording equipment wrapped around him like copper filled tendrils of Ivy, his parabola primed to stalk the air for sound, wandered the rides before the gloaming capturing the joyous evensong of the Tree Pipit before heading to roost.




A long time ago I had a go at combining Nightjar within a song celebrating the many evenings of  my youth Nightjarring at Skipwith Common.  It's so long ago since recording this that MySpace was the media platform of choice

https://myspace.com/hairyfolkster/music/song/nightjar-song-9419317-9220501

Monday, 30 May 2016

Wild,wild,wild, go re-wild in the country.....


This last week I've been down on a farm.


This is a farm.


No, seriously, this is a farm.


Look- this almost looks like a gateway into a field.
Its got animals in it.

It is a farm- honestly. There are proper farm animals too,
at the Knepp Estate.It's just that the livestock prefer things to look a certain way, and do most of the land management themselves. And in turn, they provide top quality beef,
                                                                     
                                                                             venison,


                                                    And the best bacon I have ever tasted.
All of which has the added by-product of some of the best country birdery to be had anywhere in England. Nightingales sing from thick tangled scrub, Cuckoos and Turtle Doves perch up on the wizened limbs of           mature oak trees, and sylvia warblers gabble from every bramble. It is a rural idyll.- a farming ideal.







                                            And  I do mean the best bacon I have ever tasted.

Friday, 27 May 2016

Barden Garden

 
Another jaunt to the north. This time with Ben to celebrate honorary Ely10er, Rich Baine's 50th birthday at Barden in the Yorkshire Dales.  They had the foresight to book a bunk barn with breeding Redstarts in the garden, Swallows in the gables and the beautiful upland woods of Bolton Abbey within strolling distance.
 
Gorgeous sights and sounds with Pied and Spotted Flycatchers peppered through the woods, Redstarts abounding and Wood Warblers shaking their songs out in a few choice spots.  On the River Wharfe, the liquor for some of my favourite ales, a family of fledged Dippers were being fed on the bankside and Goosander, Mandarin and Common Sandpiper were all doing their thing.  We admired it all in it's fresh, green glory.

 
 
 




 

 
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, 25 May 2016

A magical fifteen minutes at Wicken

I've never really rated Wicken Fen for a bit of quick and dirty birding; I know there's plenty of you have the time to look for it but there never seems to be very much just there. I went tonight to pick my daughter up from a brownie thing and got there a little bit early. I was glad I did. What a quarter of an hour. Great spotter woodpecker, green woodpecker, swallows at close quarters, really good reed warbler, wren, various finches and tits, grasshopper warbler singing and just as I was about to wander off, a barn owl on a fence post, having a little early evening preen. Marvellous.

Friday, 20 May 2016

That ol' Wicken May Magic

It's debatable whether there's such a thing as a truly bad day's birding, but undoubtedly some days are better than others. This one was nigh-on perfect.

For a decade myself and two friends have paid twice-yearly visits to Wicken Fen, once just before Christmas and then again in May. Both days are, loosely, an attempt to find as many species as possible, but understandably they vary greatly in character. December's trip is defined by limited daylight, a faint air of clock-watching and a rush to visit all areas of the Fen, though we always end the day sitting quietly amid the gloaming, waiting for Hen Harriers to ghost in and toasting their arrival with Sloe gin and mince pies. Despite the potential for many more species, May's trips are more relaxed affairs, the longer days allowing time to soak in the seasonal highlights. Nothing much beats sitting back on a grassy, sun-drenched bank, Hobbies hawking all around, Skylarks singing up above and the call of Cuckoo drifting over on the breeze (and a pork pie inevitably on the go - food seems to feature heavily on our trips, whatever the time of year). The last few years have suffered slightly from below-par weather, but no such concerns this past Monday. Having already postponed the trip once it was with relief that we awoke to sunshine and indeed the day completely out performed the forecast.

Carrying our own body-weights in food, but already full with optimism, we kicked off proceedings just after 7am. The overnight chill was already being tempered by the morning sun, which soon justified the decision to jettison any coats. One of the first birds we encountered was a Cuckoo, a suitable harbinger for the day ahead. One of our many rituals is to start off from the Brick Pit hide - a chance to nab some woodland species that may elude us further out in the Fen, but also an opportunity to start the more aquatic theme. Birds such as Blue Tit, Great Tit and Robin shared the stage with my first Reed Warblers of the year and a stunning Little Grebe swam around almost within touching distance. Further on a Bittern boomed and a Grasshopper Warbler reeled. A Garden Warbler allowed us superb views as it sat singing atop a blossom-laden Hawthorn and we tracked down a Yellowhammer calling out by the fields, a song so redolent of sunny Summer days.

Crossing the reed beds we strolled along beside Wicken Lode. An intriguing but somewhat gruesome sight arrested our progress. A decently-sized Pike lay dead within the water, but closer inspection revealed it had another sizeable fish, a Chub perhaps, dead head-first within its jaws. Had the Pike literally bitten off more than it could chew, it's backward-facing teeth for once not the evolutionary masterpiece but instead a trap from which neither fish could escape, locking them into a shared doom? The diagnosis became more complicated with the realisation that a reed stem also entered the Pike's mouth and emerged through its gills. Had it impaled itself at the moment of ambush? The Pike's postmortem was cut short as a cry of "Cranes!" went up and there above us were 2 of these superb birds. Moments later a Buzzard glided rapidly into view and beyond this another raptor turned, revealing itself to be a Red Kite (my first at Wicken). After this burst of activity we calmed down in the tower hide, looking out over Hobbies and Cuckoos and nesting Herons (and getting stuck into a pork pie, naturally).

The afternoon found us heading onto Baker's Fen, which was in perfect condition. It immediately fulfilled this potential, with a gorgeous pair of Garganey amid the tussocks. Ringed Plover picked about on the mud. On to Burwell Fen, 7 or 8 Hobbies up in the air above the Lode and a Cuckoo seemingly causing great distress to the local Dunnocks. Pleasingly, the familiar Whooper Swan (an escapee or injured wild bird?) had apparently found acceptance from some Mute Swans, forming a contented-looking trio. Plenty of activity on the pools.The usual suspects joined by more Ringed Plover and some Dunlin. Pintail, Pochard and Wigeon may have been somewhat unseasonal, but added valuable 'ticks' to the day list. A pair of Grey Partridge ran ahead of us along the bank and my first Painted Lady of the year fluttered around us.

Crossing back over Burwell Fen we experienced another frantic burst of activity. A Greenshank was in one of the path-side pools. Ahead, a Barn Owl quartered a ditch and moments later a Short-Eared Owl came into view. A Meadow Pipit landed on a post, then a Pied Wagtail, then a stunning Yellow Wagtail. Watching the owls, we observed the Barn Owl flying ever closer to the SEO, now also sat a-top a post. As the Barn Owl passed over the perching SEO it chose that moment to empty its bowels! Most, if not all, missed, but it seemed a close call. A deliberate act or just very bad timing? More owl action at Priory Farm. Another Barn Owl, this one looking rather more serene as it sat in the evening sun. We then realised that a Little Owl was sat tucked into a pile of concrete posts. At one stage it scuttled under overhanging corrugated iron (perhaps it knew what that Barn Owl might be capable of), but then hopped down onto the grass, taking up its position in the sun and, naturally, glaring at us and everything else.

Our day was finished on Baker's Fen. The Ringed Plover had built up to 7 or more, accompanied now by some Dunlin. A Greenshank strode about and the Garganey were still feeding. To round the day off a Snipe began to drum, shooting about above us in a cloudless blue sky, producing that astonishing and wonderful sound.

In terms of our listing activities, the day had yielded 85 species (78 seen and a further 7 'only' heard). This is, for us, a record for this site - and by some margin. These figures and species lists will be entered into notebooks, offering future interest and setting us a future challenge but, as ever with birding, it's the accompanying memories which are surely of greater value, the notebooks' greater purpose being to help unlock them. Hopefully we'll be pounding the Fen, summer and winter, for many years to come and, each time, adding more to our already rich store. 


Sunday, 15 May 2016

The Green, Green Grass of Home

A day spent around the homelands, the annual spring ElyWildspace Bird Race as a starting point.  The early morning saw lovely weather with blue skies and barely a breath of breeze across the greening canopy, it was great to be out and the air warmed nicely through to the finish at 11.  Nothing outrageous to be seen be a healthy 75 aggregate by a healthy dozen  observers included Grey Wagtail, Corn Bunting, Little Ringed Plover, Bearded Tit, Cetti's Warbler, some stunning Kingfisher action and a great deal of Marsh Harrier and Buzzard activity.  The fine day gave us a great chance to enjoy the simpler stuff of birding and take in the subtlety of  tones and contrast of a Lesser Whitethroat's head, the chintzy charisma of Goldfinch in its glory and lots of opportunity to navigate through the myriad birdsong layered through each of the habitats, the chunter of Sedge Warbler audible from almost every spot.

 
Goldfinch were much in evidence on the stroll I took down the Devil's Dyke between Reach and Burwell this afternoon.  With the sun dipping in and out from between gathering clouds I decided to look for butterflies.  Brimstone and Orange Tip were pretty evident with the odd Peacock dancing around too.  A Holly Blue drew my attention and a Dingy Skipper whizzed past, I followed it in flight for a bit but didn't see it on the ground unfortunately.  My target though did give itself up readily and a pristine Green Hairstreak allowed close and prolonged observation.  The one year old strapped to my chest in a baby carrier was more patient than could be expected as I tried to photograph the green gem.  Her head had to find a comfortable position beneath mine and all the optical gubbins held steady against her, vocal protestations were falling on deaf ears so she quickly found that banging the lens would get my attention, we eventually came to some kind of compromise as I got quite a few photos.
 
 
 
 
My recent trip to Yorkshire with it's healthy and expanding population of Red Kites had led me to speculate that it only be a matter of time until they start to proliferate within the Fens.  I have seen a few in this area, in the south of the Ely10, over the past year and today I saw a bird following the tractor and this bird alighted in the freshly tilled field a few times before cruising up and down the Dyke at the Reach end.  A welcome sight on any day out.