In the City

I had a good drive around the Fen looking for finch flocks and mostly getting diverted by plentiful flocks of Golden Plover and Lapwing.  I did see quite a few Corn Buntings including flocks of 20 and 15 but didn't locate Yellowhammer or Reed Buntings which are potential carriers for rarer species.  The Washes were quiet but I had left looking around the city sites until the end as it was raining when I set out.  At the Sewage Work a Grey Wagtail was vocal amidst the throng of yarelli.  I did track down a Chiffchaff in the buddleia tangles and when it flew closer it called before I could get bins on it - a classic tristis peep, which it did frequently I got a minutes worth of views down to 10m and it looked spot on too.  Unfortunately I hadn't taken my camera with me but I'm sure that pics will emerge over time as it isn't likely to go anywhere soon.  For that very reason  I did take my camera in a pessimistic stroll along the river.  A Glossy Ibis was seen here during the week but I hadn't been able to see it looking from the roadside layby.  Even when along the tow path I was looking out into the wet field and it wasn't until I looked right by me that I saw it, ridiculously close and oblivious to passers by. Not a bad morning out.

 

 

 

Crowded House

The WEBS count at the settling beds last week was the busiest I've seen it.  The lack of water on the Washes must be having some effect several hundred Teal, Greylag Goose and Mallard jostled with Gadwall, Shoveller, Wigeon and the odd diving duck and the little Richardson' Canada Goose.  The Whoopers Swan remain on the arable and numbered 28.  Later these birds flew over the house at dusk on their way to Kingfishers Bridge to roost.  A bit of birding out of the back bedroom window turned into a bit of photography as the light became very sharp.

 

 

 

 

 

Helen sent me some pictures of a handsome melanistic male Pheasant in her Witcham garden, a cracking bird.

 

 

Light Flight

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vO_j5R3BKJ4

It's always the same.  Days, sometimes weeks but never months go by when the pace and fervour of the unnatural working world engulfs me for a while.......

and then the Big Sky Homecoming

our Fens are just awesome for it.  I've been welcomed home by it out on the Norfolk coast, the Tibetan plateau, the Otago Plains, the Arctic Tundra, the Australian Outback, against the Himalaya's and on each of the World's Oceans but it's always been The Fen for me...how strange.

So full of connectivity, and joy and awe the sky began it's kaleidoscopic pinking. Stood on the bank at Pymoor the wild swans bugled and commuted.  Geese, less wild, bar the lone Bean that flew North-west, honked and fed and flew in bunches, away.  A more fluid and excitable bugle rippled over the Wash and a flock of 20 Crane rose over the far bank almost bobbing on elastic as the dipped and peaked over and around one another.  They landed, a straggling herd, in the monochromatic gloom enveloping the damp grasslands.  Just bloody brilliant. 



Betwitched

(Yes, I know it's not really twitching before anyone starts)...

Hallowe’en and a day off – but where to go on this spookiest of days? Wicken Fen seemed a suitable choice. Wicken is another name for Rowan, or Mountain Ash, as is Witch Tree, though this is apparently because Rowan is supposed to guard against witchcraft rather than aid it. Well, not a very fenny tree your Rowan, so perhaps in its absence witchcraft abounds on the Fen and, after all, Wicken sounds like Wiccan, so it’s bound to be something to do with witches (actually, according to The University of Nottingham’s ‘Key to English Place-names’ Wicken means ‘At the specialised farms’, but let’s not allow that to spoil things. Probably Toad farms in any case)…

The Fen was approprately fog-shrouded upon my arrival and would remain so for much of the day. Just about my first sighting was of a Fox, who sat and watched me from a gateway. More thief than phantom in English folklore, though there was apparently a belief that witches could turn themselves into Foxes.  A cracking start, regardless. A couple of hours at the Roger Clarke hide followed. Water Rail and Jay did their best to offer blood-curdling screams and a lone Magpie flew over, portending sorrow. It was far too pleasant to worry about that however, with a steady stream of small birds visiting the feeders, Bullfinches picking through the last of the Blackberries and a Kingfisher dropping in for an early morning bathe.

Moving on, the Fen was a study in sepia and grey, with occasional splashes of colour in the form of vermillion Bramble leaves, scarlet Guelder Rose berries and shocking-pink Spindle. 

Everywhere was still and quiet, apart from the faint rustle and patter of falling leaves and water droplets. Birds made sudden appearances from out of the fog and were just as quickly swallowed back up – Green and Great Spotted Woodpecker, Kestrel, Snipe… Redwing and Song Thrush skulked within the berry-laden Hawthorns.

What this day needed to get it back on theme was owls, so I eventually headed down Harrison’s Drove and, failing to find either Little or Barn at Priory Farm, crossed over onto Burwell Fen. Almost immediately two Short-Eared Owls appeared and I was to be treated to up to four of these magnificent birds over the next hour. The sun had even burnt through a little by this stage, helping to pick up their beautiful markings. Burwell Fen is awash with Kestrels at the moment, and more than once owl and falcon had a brief set-to. An owl also decided to harass a Buzzard. 

I decided to finish the day over on the boardwalk, hoping for ghostly Barn Owl or ghosting Hen Harrier. However, within minutes of my arrival the fog rolled back in, obscuring sun, sky and much else and bringing premature darkness to The Fen.

Before it did so however I spotted this - 

It is, I believe, a Witches Broom. Not, as it happens, part of a hag’s supernatural transport but a gall caused by the fungus Taphrina betulina, which affects Birch trees. With darkness upon me I beat a retreat, before Black Shuck, Jenny Greenteeth and all could claim me. 

Not much evidence of witches today admittedly, but Wicken Fen remains bewitching.

I can't believe dunc didnt put "this bird isa bella". or is that racist now. no dunc, it isnae. actually i think it might be a male, if the lores are anything to go by, so the pun doesn't really work. it's not racist though.

I've only just seen Isabelline Wheatear for the first time up on the Norfolk coast, so to have another one turn up so soon, and so locally is a rare treat indeed. The subtle plumage of greys and buffs and peach tones make for a real challenge when it comes to painting them, and when viewing them the light turns them from faded straw to bright sunset-gold and hazy lilac. Pearlescent and ever on the move, the bird at Wardy Hill hopped and flitted around the edge of a freshly dug scrape, catching flies with darting lunges and bolting for the next vantage point on the black fen soil piled up around the excavation.

Isteria

A week in the Northlands were very productive.  I saw 4 confiding Sprytes with stripes - 2 Hume's Warblers and single Pallas's Warbler and Firecrest.  A Little Bunting was the prize for some focused birding across the Great White Cape (Flamborough Head) more of that day here:

http://birdingdad.blogspot.co.uk/

The Hume's Warbler at Thornwick was particularly confiding at times showing a good variety of the key features and calling a great deal to boot. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plenty of commoner migrants filtered through the hedge, fields and passed overhead.  Twite, Lapland Bunting, Woodcock, Thrushes galore, Siskin, Brambling and Redstart all pitched in and Goldcrests were peppered throughout.

 

 



 

I had a look at the Western Swamphen (Purple Gallinule in old money) at Alkborough Flats which as a potential first for Britain is a top quality bird and rude to ignore only an hour or so from my folks in York, however it did feel like a dirty twitch, despite enigmatic views (read distant and skulking). 

 

Returning to the Fen I was not expecting to be twitching the Ely 10 today.....

 

 

and not to see my second Isabelline Wheatear of the week, the first inland UK record and a most unexpected first for Cambridgeshire.  It was a great bird showing well at the soon to be rewetted fields at Wardy Hill/Witcham Gravel, all features present and correct, a real showy bird that delighted all observers.  This pic from Cambirds sent by Richard Jackson shows all you need to get your pulse racing when confronted with a pale Wheatear in late Autumn.

 

 

It was a mellow and merry gathering of county birders all very chuffed to be enjoying this very rare visitor.  In days gone by a few more hours celebratory birding would have been in order, but with my kids in tow, we left the field and celebrated with good feed and a catch up on our autumn birding in an Ely restaurant. 

 

A Tail of Two Wheatears

A quick look in at the Settling Beds yesterday revealed the largest congregation of duck I have seen there. Hundreds of wildfowl, mostly Teal with fair numbers of Shoveller, Gadwall and Wigeon dotted across the water.  Lots of Greylags were accompanied by the small Canada Goose which I had seen for the first time in a about a year at Roswell Pits last week.  The highlights were a 1st winter male Scaup, just moulting the odd bit of grey into the mantle, accompanying a flock of 65 Tufted Duck and on the adjacent arable a micro herd of 10 Whooper Swans that later roosted on the pool.

 

 

An early start this morning as a quick dash to the Norfolk Coast was planned with a return to the Fen required before noon.  I'd not seen an Isabelline Wheatear in the UK, although well acquainted with them from trip abroad, today gave an opportunity to see one at Burnham Overy and the bird was still rooting in the half light when I first saw it. Half a dozen folk had taken the walk out in the dark and were there at dawn.  The other observers did discuss the birds identity, but the striking T shaped tail pattern with a very thick black sub-terminal band, along with the pallid tones alone convinced me quickly that this was the Izzy.  The reason for the additional scrutiny was whispered talk that a photograph of a Wheatear doing the rounds on the internet, from the previous day appeared to be a Desert.  I love the 2 bird theory and decided to walk the shingle beach a part of my circuit as this would be the very best place for any sensible, or indeed existent, Desert Wheatear to hang out.  I left the "crowd" and hacked over the dunes checking all scrub and foliage and dropped onto the beach.  A large Pipit flew quite low overhead, I needed it to call, expecting it to schreep as a Richard's should, it didn't and seemed to give two indistinct wagtail like calls.  It kept going and I won't lose any sleep over it, perhaps it was a wagtail?  Half a mile around the point and I had virtually 30 meters of shingle left to check when a little bobbing movement drew my eye to the right and there in classic pose amidst shingle and Suaeda was a slightly bedraggled female Desert Wheatear.

 

 



 

The distinctive all black tail and primaries of this species clearly visible, I spent a bit of time getting some footage and stayed with it until I'd got some other birders onto it.  Pootling across the dunes towards Holkham I had a quick look at the beached Fin Whale, now royally carved through autopsy, and was struck by the numbers of Wren and Dunnock across the site.  Cracking little birds, particularly in the morning light not, unfortunately, the Accentor I was looking for.

 

  

 

Siskin, Brambling and numerous Reed Bunting headed over vocally and Redwing seeped across the skies unseen.  At the Holkham end a Firecrest proclaimed itself in agitated fashion and a couple of Chiffchaff went about their business.  I returned for seconds on the Isabelline Wheatear which was in much better light before heading back about 10 for Tea and Medals.

 

 

 

I had a good look for the Scaup in the afternoon but most of the Tuftie had gone.  However the Whooper's had become a herd swelling to a heady 28.  Now we do see hundreds of Wild Swans flocking distantly beyond the pits and out to Prickwillow but thi is the largest gathering around the ponds for some years.  All good stuff.  There is a reservoir, tucked away, not far from my home in Stuntney, that I should really try and get access to because the fluctuating number of wildfowl on the settling beds isn't just the interchange with Roswell Pits and potentially this reservoir is providing a good spot for our local duck.

call me Ishmail- not on my mobile, use the land-line- I'm not going anywhere.