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.