A celebration of birding and natural history, generally within a 10 mile radius of Ely Cathedral, Cambridgeshire, UK.
It would be great if you wanted to share your Ely 10 birding news, experiences, photos, art and video through this blog. Please contact hairyfolkster@gmail.com with your post or to join the authorship, I'll get you on the list quicker than a fly over Alpine Swift.
Expectation grew through to the end of the week, the winds were easterly in origin, swirling off from northern Scandanavia and onto Shetland, the Northern Isles were coming alive with Sibes - passerines from Siberia. Thursday evening pub talk focused on what might be, Mark Peck was planning to pull a Bluetail out of the nets at Wicken, I hoped I could wangle a few hours at the coast. In the end I had a full day pass - I was eager to see waves of migrants arriving.
There was a bit of debate about whether Norfolk would be the best place for an intensive days search for migrant birds on the move. Lincolnshire and Suffolk were mooted but our lack of detailed knowledge of the potential sites led us to familiar turf. Mark Hawkes and I arrived dawnish at Wells in a moderate South-Easterly breeze with low cloud and drizzle. It was evident birds were arriving, Song Thrushes ticking almost everywhere, Brambling wheezed and passed over low. We set out slow, seeing birds in most areas we looked. A tit flock in the Dell proved hard to grill- birds appearing a dissappearing quickly. Thrushes rolled over the leaf litter and a Redstart and Lesser Whitethroat occupied the corner birches.
The seemingly resident Red-backed Shrike sat out along the fenceline bushes for a while, but it didn't show again. We continued to check each area thoroughly, a Pied Flycatcher zipped about and a Hawfinch flew over. It was mid morning by the time we reached Lady Anne's Drive and we'd barely seen another birder. I grabbed a coffee and Ben and Rich turned the corner, we compared notes - we were missing sprytes, they'd found 3. It didn't take long to catch up with one though and the next tit flock held one, they tumbled into our laps after that with at least 6 birds west of the drive. We separated out and while enjoying the Cattle Egret flock feeding between the handsome Belted Angus we got a phone call telling us of an Olive-backed Pipit heading our way. We had a good look around where it had dropped in, finding a Spotted Flycatcher for our troubles. A bit later a yell went up telling us of the OBP again, this time overhead, with 2 Meadow Pipits, I saw these but could do nothing with them. This was not to be the last of frustrating pipitry.
We reconvened with Green & Dale on the edge of the bomb crater and headed out onto the dunes. The predicted afternoon wave of arrivals started overhead with Redwings, Larks and Finches pulsing from the sky. A couple of fenceline Whinchat, bushtop Redstarts, flyover Lapland Buntings and an uncooperative Ring Ouzel gave flavour - I was looking for this when I got a shout from the others. I got onto a pipit flying towards me which gave several arresting "tzeeep" calls. We followed it down and moved, with a plan, towards the trees it had landed near, up again and over the dune. Two birders had joined us and were checking "sounds like OBP right" there was some consensus forming. With some height we watched as it flew and landed on a bush. All scopes swung on to it and it looked good, from the front, for an Olive-backed Pipit - orange wash to the chest, strong marks across the breast and a clear white spot and dark spot in the ear coverts. It dropped to the ground and weaved between short tussocks, in this view it all fell apart - the bird had a streaky brown mantle. A Tree Pipit. We were really dissappointed, felt a bit robbed and perhaps a little silly for getting carried away. It wasn't just us though as an OBP was reported in the same area later in the day and there were several reports from the woods during the day.
As we meandered, around a tad forlorn, a Barred Warbler popped up in front of a departing birder. We got some brief but good views as it bombed between bushes, a bit if a beast, all told. We carried on to Gun Hill admiring washed out Chiffs and a luminous young Willow Warbler, a Short-eared Owl rose from a dune hollow and away. In the creek between us and Scolt Head Island a couple of female type Goosander loafed.
Our walk back was speedier than our laboured searching on the way out, it was late and there was not a lot of daylight left. We heard a couple more sprytes in the trees and enjoyed a peachy, newly arrived Brambling.
Nearing the Dell we stopped to investigate a reasonable roost of Song Thrushes in a single tangle over hung by a mid size sycamore, a whirr of movement zipped up into a branch and I whipped my bins on to it to see the lovely eye rings and cutesy open face of Red-breasted Flycatcher. Mark had seen it fly up but not got a view, I called it and it melted away, surely to roost. Aching legs were soothed some by quayside Fish and Chips, Lilt and Vimto. It was a belter of a day all told but no biggie, although we missed Arctic Warbler and a Raddes Warbler seen during the day. The greatest surprise where how few other birders we saw given the weather - 6 aside ourselves. I now run my birding days past my fifteen year old self as a reality check - Red-backed Shrike, Barred Warbler, Red-breasted Flycatcher, 6 Yellow-brows, Lap Bunts, Pied Fly, 6 Redstarts, Hawfinch, Cattle Egret, Great White Egret, Short-eared Owl and lots of birds on the move - I could barely dream of days like that back in 1990.
When I first saw this illustration, many years ago, I fell in love with the idea of Skuas flying over Ely. Graham Easy's pen work belies a passion for unlocking the secrets of overland Skua passage over Cambridgeshire. His observations have led to the understanding that strong autumnal North Westerly winds, coupled with squally showers and rain can encourage Skuas to build in numbers in the Wash and continue their passage, not along the coast as is the norm but within eyesight, inland along the courses of the Rivers Ouse and Nene before heading onwards towards the River Severn and out into the Atlantic via the Bristol Channel. This passage is likely to occur in fine weather too but the Skuas can fly high, beyond ready detection.
A leviathon of storming norwesters crashed across East Anglia on Friday. While I was sat at work Mark Hawkes was reporting Petrels and Skuas in horizontal rain and a gargantuan swell on 70mph winds at Sheringham. News was building of hundreds of Skuas heading inland at Lynn Point at the mouth of the Ouse where it flows into The Wash.
It is rare for the best conditions to look for skuas to occur, even rarer to occur on a weekend and over the years I have spent too many days frustrated and envious at work as others have enjoyed inland skua passage, mostly in the far north of Cambridgeshire, on the county border at Foul Anchor on the tidal Nene. I have also spent many hours watching the skies for skuas in Nor Westers in sub-optimal conditions, spurred on by hope. This has not been without reward and a lone Bonxie on flood water at Fidwell Fen in just the right conditions many years ago fanned the flames, a couple more Bonxies heading inland at Foul Anchor the day after a large movement suggested you might just see something move against blue skies. Another blustery but skualess day saw a fantastically scallop backed young Roseate Tern traverse the Norfolk and Lincolnshire vista in front of me and Ben.
I sent a miserly whatsapp to the Birdo group from the confines of my desk - "There will have been Skuas over Ely this morning #:0( " and I'm sure there was. By 4 o'clock I was free and gazing skyward from my favourite vantage point, a couple of minutes from home, at Quanea Drove. This is a huge west facing vista tracking upstream (the flightpath of a skua) the silvery thread of the River Great Ouse from Queen Adelaide through to Stretham with the monolithic cathedral perched atop the shallow whaleback of the Isle of Ely.
It was blowing an absute hooley and I decided not to set up my scope afeared that it should blow over in a gust, 70mph had been recorded on the coast. Bouyed by the news of Skuas over Thetford during the afternoon and continuing inland movement at Lynn Point, I began my watch from the shelter and comfort of the car. It takes a while to get your eye in to a skywatch, getting a sense of the light and distances is all part of the fun. There were some large gulls moving upriver and lots of Rooks, Jackdaws and Pigeons to get used to, Cormorants and Herons spiced things up a little but it was an hour or so in that saw a small group of circling Black-headed Gulls joined by the torpedo bodied, silver winged shapes of terns. 5 Sandwich Terns - only my second sighting in the Ely10 and certainly a success in my searches as they spiralled higher pushed away from the river and off, with the wind, towards Soham and Newmarket beyond. With a crick in the neck and a sore back from twisting my frame I took a short break to get a few bits (ok, beer) from Tescos. Having stretched out the cramp I was ready to do the hour or so till dusk. The sky had cleared, I was tempted to call it a day. To keep me going I kept recalling hundreds of spoon tailed Pomarine Skuas flying in groups of tens, westwards, over Varanger in Norway in clear skies and little wind one spring and the 2 pale phase Arctic Skuas winging their way low over the Biebrza Marshes, travelling to and from who knows where, in Poland on a beautiful still May evening, while I waited for the jack in a box lek of Great Snipe to begin. Don't give up, Skuas don't always need rain to pass overland within sight.
I didn't give up and with the sun lowering a svelte dark bird appeared to the south of the cathedral, it banked to circle and it's form became clear, an Arctic Skua - little plumage but all jizz, as I watched another appeared beneath it, towering upward like dark lights being switched on another appeared and another. In total 12 skuas kettled and span around each other, not unlike the Sandwich Terns had done earlier. I'd seen flocks of resting skuas take to the wing and do this offshore before, heading up high and ready to move. As the wind took them into the glare of golden clouds reflecting the dropping sun each blinked away out of sight - dissappearing as suddenly as they had appeared, magical.
Next day the winds continued, it was overcast and drizzly - it was back to form, 4 hours at Foul Anchor yielding nothing for Ben and I. Indeed there was little skua movement anywhere adding another myth to the pile - skuas usually move on the first day of the right conditions.
We popped into Welney on the way back - 47 of the 60+ Cranes were on Lady Fen and on the observatory pool 7 Cattle Egrets roosted with a lone Great White beyond - even 10 years ago it would be hard to consider this scene likely.