A Forest

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2yd-uI2H2gs

From the fenlands we look eastwards not to a forest but the forest and the Brecks - a bewildering mosaic of flinty fields, Beech rides, sandy warrens, expansive blocks of brushy conifers and heaths of gorse and bruised purple heathers.  The late winter pilgrimage provides birders with a peek into the displays of some enigmatic scarcities.  

The golden globe rose above the horizon, burning through the blackened perpendicularity of poplar plantations as I swung off the Fen and up the imperceptible incline into the woods.  The dawn chorus elongated into a freshly laundered blue sky morning and a long awaited stroll along tbe river was full of bird song.  The soggy riverside  soils starving roots of Oxygen. Poplars toppling year on year to leave a stump ridden no mans land of tiring forest, just enough to hold the Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers for another few years and they confided early today, with little wait.

What a cracker this little bird is, I will miss them when they're gone - and they will go I fear.  A meander back across the heathy ride was serenaded by 3 Woodlark, beautiful cascading song all around.

And as the lark rises so must the hawk, to the woods once more, for the mornings displays had begun.

Dragging myself away from Goshawks is always difficult but as the action peetered out it was time to move on.  Through the beeches the subtle soft ticking of Hawfinches gave away their presence, timid and flighty they showed briefly but further out beneath the hornbeams in the paddock many more picked through the grass and leaf litter.  I watched a pair displaying, something I had not seen since teendom when Jono and I found a pair in  suburban Knavesmire Woods on the edge of York Racecourse. An intricate and subtle dance of  slow and mirrored postulations of feeding, odd bows and head movements culminating in a frozen kiss, huge beak tips gently touching before being broken apart by feisty competitors.

A late lunch in Thetford allowed for a check of the rooftop gulls at the tiny tip.  Two likely looking adult Caspian Gulls showed between showers, although I didn't get to check the full primary pattern to be absolutely certain of the i.d

With the afternoons still short there was not a long vigil at Wicken before Harriers started to arrive to roost 3 male and 2 ringtail Hen Harriers the highlight, including a male who appeared to have taken to a gloomy tree roost in the hastening gale.

Watton the world is happening.

Yesterday I finished my annual survey on land on the edge of Breckland. I had a short window which luckily was bookended by two big storms - three days of pretty good conditions, with only a brisk breeze to make things difficult. It's been a very mild and wet winter, and the contrast from previous years was reflected in the birdlife. I only saw one group of Redwing - a small party of about a dozen birds. No Redpoll, and just a smattering of Brambling and Siskin. These were understandable omissions from the usual winter experience - the northern birds have just not had to retreat to the lower climes - but perhaps more worrying was the lack of species that should have been there. Marsh Tit, Coal Tit and even Great Tit were all reduced in number (although Blue Tit numbers were similar to last year). I have no explanation for why I didn't come across the usual numbers of Great Tit - but this seems like just a bizarre anomaly. The Coal Tit numbers could well have been affected by the weather. I don't mean the climate, but just conditions over the three day visit. It could be that in strongish winds, the birds stay tucked away and evade detection. The real worry was the decline in Marsh Tit. I found areas of good habitat devoid of the usual sneezing and "mearp-mearp-mearping" calls. Only in areas where habitat was extensive did I find numbers that were comparable to what I have found before. The problem being highlighted is one of "islands". A small copse can be full of the right trees, insects and other things a Marsh Tit likes - but if there is no connection to other areas, there is no population spread, and if a territory loses its pair - the system collapses. We see it everywhere in species that require specific conditions and don't travel well. Doom and Gloom.

It was nice to see Linnet flocks, which seem to be pretty stable in the area, and their bouncing flight was a common sight around the open fields, but the real joy of the survey is being constantly shadowed by Kites. It's been quite annoying to have these birds float overhead at tree top level while having no camera with me - it's just too much hassle to carry my scope everywhere just in case, so it was lucky that yesterday I managed to spot a Kite coming as I drove along a little byroad, and even better that a gap in the hedge coincided with a pull-in. I was able to crouch at the field edge as the bird came close enough to get some reasonable shots.

Much more obliging was a little group of gulls loafing in the late afternoon sun. Most were Black headed Gulls, - big larids seem to be pretty uncommon here, but a first winter herring type sat proud in centre stage. I was immediately taken with its pale head, and large dark bill, and checking a few more details (it was very kind to wingstretch at the right moment) I felt pretty confident that my initial suspicion was correct. Yellow-legged Gulls are not the rarity they once were - but I always start second guessing myself when I come across them in unexpected places, and with such unexpectedly close views. A mistaken identity is always more forgivable when watching a distant roost on the choppy wash at dusk.

The bird showed all the right features - unstreaked head with only the eye area marked, dark strong bill, grey scapulars (at least two generations are visible), plain tertials, long dark primaries without an obvious inner wing mirror, fairly pattern free coverts (inner tertial coverts have been moulted), sparsely spotted rump with nice solid dark tail band, and an overall structure of square headed long winged bulkiness that was very different to the one adult Herring present.

6 O'Clock (Here Comes The Blue Light)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILAJ7cUxFRM&app=desktop

6am and outside the great ship of the fen, Ely Cathedral, 8 of us gathered to try and find 100 winter birds across the Ely10.

The team comprised Will Burdett, Ben Green, Mark Groom, Mark Peck, Sergio Tomey, Andrew Balmford and Bill Mansfield, our first site the mighty Wicken Fen, the most biodiverse site in the country.

In the pitch dark we ascended the viewing platform and started our day with just our ears - Wigeon, Teal, Gadwall, Moorhen and Herring Gull gave themselves away and as the clouds shifted revealing a full moon the sky began to lighten and some cacophanous Tawny Owl action was ignited.  With the dawn, birds started movkng and corvids left their roost.  A Cetti's Warbler proclaimed itself and the first of  the days many Barn Owls was picked up across the sedge and reed.  

The first harriers up were Marsh Harriers but it wasn't too long until the first ringtail Hen emerged and then a male.  All told, 4 male and 3 ringtail left their roost - a really impressive total and a fantastic, memorable start to the day. 

Reluctantly we moved on to Kingfishers Bridge where we saw loads of good bits and bobs, highlights being 2 Great White Egrets and a couple of Cranes.

A brief visit to the Cam Washes followed where 3 White-fronted Geese were amongst the Greylags and then      ...to the woods. 

We visited two lovely sites - Fordham Woods and Chippenham Fen where we added Marsh Tit, Woodpeckers, Treecreepers, Red Kite and a great value Merlin whizzed through.  At Isleham there was a lone Barnacle Goose and Ely Sewage Works produced the expected Grey Wagtail and Chiffchaff.  

The Washes was worth the remainder of our day.  Across Lady Fen a couple more Great White Egret, swarms of Golden Plover, wild swans and scores of other Wildfowl.  The water wss really high on the Washes themselves and although a vocal Oystercatcher pitched in briefly there was not the usual array of species in front of the main obsevatory.

We had to investigate further down the Washes, right on the limit of the Ely10, to view the huge flocks of Godwit, alongside Pintail, Ruff, Curlew and Dunlin.  It was a great vista and a pan around the fen produced Barn Owls quatering many of the fields including the cradge bank right in front of us.

We watched the sunset on the bank at Pymoor and then a final nocturnal fling at Ely Beet Pits before retiring to The Albert and a pint - our total a handsome 99, as Mark P reflected, a great reason to do it all again next year.