ReedHeads

Just some of the Reed Buntings caught and ringed in the garden over the last few years - all in march and April. It's this time of year when they pass through in good numbers. we ringed a couple of males on Saturday, and today there were four unringed  birds hopping about. There had been a ringed male for a few days last week, so that makes at least seven, and with numbers of females fairly similar, it goes to show just how many birds can pass through without our knowledge. 

The close up views gives a wonderful opportunity to see the surprising amount of variation in pattern - mostly down to feather wear.

Gender Phluid.

                                                                                             

                                                                                                                                                             One of the Pheasants is Woke. Each year, up to a dozen pheasants wander round the garden, hoovering up the spillage from the feeders and generally milling about hiding from the local sportsmen. There's usually one or two males and a loose harem of females, and come the Spring the males start making noises and approach the females, plumage contorted in the stilted ceremony that shows off the iridescent Pre-Raphaelite patterns of maroon, red gold and deep pacific blue.  

But a few weeks ago, I noticed that one male was not quite the regal chevalier his garden mate had turned out to be. My first thought was that he was a young bird that hadn't fully moulted, but over a few days inspection - a different idea has emerged. 

It's long past the date where young birds have finished their moult into adult plumage, and yet this one bird still has not attained the greenish blue head with bold scarlet wattles and shining ear tufts. Its scapulars and mantle are still faded umber and black, and its orange underparts lack the glossy black diamonds and drops that give a male Pheasant its characteristic metallic feel. And it's small. Eventually I managed to see it side by side with one of the females - and apart from the longer tail, they were more or less the same size.

                                                                                                                                             

In close up, it was obvious the plumage  had both male and female features, with many feathers being an intermediate pattern. The bird has not appeared interested in the other females - no displaying or even stalking, and interestingly, the other - or should I say only male has attempted to court this bird a couple of times, slowly following it across the grass and adopting the hunchbacked, droop flanked, head bowing posture reminiscent of a Japanese kabuki actor sidling across the stage.

Side by side with the obvious male, this other bird is much smaller, and with all the other evidence taken into consideration, I guess it must be a female. I've never seen this genetic cross-dressing in Pheasants before - and I've seen a lot of pheasants over the years. But this is the 21st century after all - so deal with it.

Everything's Gone Grey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_KcC8O_HOQ&app=desktop

Back in February 1989, as a 14 year old teenager, I saw my very first Great Grey Shrike at the gravel pits at New Hythe, Kent.  This Shrike and a nearby Waxwing, provided a diversion for the mass of twitchers who descended upon the area to see the iconic rarity of the era, the Larkfield Golden Winged Warbler. 

I had fixated on seeing a Shrike for many years, religously pouring over artistic portrayals by Thorburn, Lars Jonsonn, Hilary Burn, Alan Harris, John Busby, Jan Wilczur, Bruce Pearson and Robert Gillmor awaiting my first encounter with a monochrome butcherbird.  Conversely I had little idea of what a Golden Winged Warbler should look like, no real sense of expectation - it was just mega rare.   

Now I'm not daft enough to say that the Shrike overshadowed seeing the dazzling transatlantic vagrant but it certainly added tremendously to an incredibly exciting and memorable day (thanks Dad xx).  

Great Grey Shrikes are still one of my very favourite birds to watch and I relish time in their presence.  A couple of weekends ago my Sunday looked busy, I managed an enjoyable grabbed hour at Sutton Gault between family taxi runs.  The light was great and wildfowl crowded on the sheltered flooded field opposite the main wash.  Wigeon and Teal predominated with a couple of handsome drake Pintail resting nearby - all took to the air as a Peregrine cut through the blue sky and harried Pigeon and Jackdaw alike.  Amongst the Greylag a couple of Russian White-fronted Geese were a welcome treat.  

By afternoon we were scoffing cake and tea following a potter out to Oxborough Hall NT near Swaffham.  I did hope that I might get to look in at a rather temperamental Great Grey Shrike at Fitcham on the way home but with my sister, wife and two young girls filling the car I guessed I would be on a pretty short time scale.  On arrival there was no sign of the Shrike but an enjoyable scene of boxing Hare and a sizeable herd of Roe Deer including some fine antlered bucks was to be enjoyed and then, behind the deer, the Shrike popped up - sentinel of the hedgerow a top.a blossoming Hawthorn but very distant.

Enjoying the views I took my leave so as not to test anyones patience.  Driving back down the lane and closer to the hedge I had another look, this time the bird flew high and towards us and within a minute it had landed on the telegraph wires along the road.  Stealthily I moved towards it but the birders leaving the site showed that the bird could be approached closely by car.  Shortly I was left alone with the masked bandit who just got on with a late feeding flurry in the golden evening light.  I was exhilarated by the quality of the views, particularly in light of the distance of observation in its preferred hedge.  When the sun dropped behind the steel grey clouds along the horizon the light failed and I headed home a happy chap.

A couple of days later something else great and grey befell me.  I have been waiting a little while for Ben to finish a painting that enthralled me from the moment I saw it. A huge pillarbox canvas of scandinavian pines sheltering the ghost of the forest.  My last trip to Finland cleaned up on the northern owls and this Great Grey Owl was a highlight amongst highlights.  The memory of seeing this bird solemnly eyeballing us from his perch before drifting silently on arced wings through the needling boughs had stayed with me.  When I saw that Ben had captured that shared moment with such sense of presence I needed to buy it and have the chance to relish it everyday.....here it is on my snug wall. 

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.

too many D's on the D floor.

With the Yellow Wagtail still around, I figured enough time had elapsed to allow for the swathe of twitchers to have died down. I left it til Monday to make extra sure to avoid the weekend midland birders. 

I was wrong. As I arrived at Sedgeford and got out of the car, a burly feller with a slightly crazed look in his eye started shouting at me not to worry because it was still there sitting in a bush. I might have worked that out for myself just by looking at the crowd of old duffers gathered there- but you never know. 

The bird flew down to a big heap of earth and I took a few pictures and left without a word. It just wasn't worth it.

I decided to drop in at Wells to hopefully enjoy the Roughleg - still one of the best birds out there in my opinion. I found myself driving up the road that leads to the small parking place at Burnham Ovary, and as I approached, I noticed that the field next to it was scattered with pinkfeet. Luckily there was a nice gap in the hedge to pull up by, so I could enjoy the geese at close range without leaving the car and causing a flush. The sun was horrific - far too bright to take decent photos with my digiscoping equipment and I soon lost hope of capturing any worthwhile images. I figured I'd have a quick scan for Beans - and immediately got lucky. The third bird in this little group stayed in the shadows, and it was only when I cropped it to upload here that I noticed that it seems to be a Whitefront.

The Roughleg at Wells was just as easy to find. Just outside town a couple of cars were parked in a gateway looking at a pale bird in a conifer. I took one look and assured them that it was just a Common Buzzard, and continued to where the Roughleg has been reported from for the past god-knows-how-many weeks. Perched in a bush beyond the sewage farm by the car park, it was a touch distant, but sitting pretty. Immediately I was accosted by a couple asking if this really was the Roughleg, since they had fallen foul of more midland birders the previous day who had been gawping at the Holkham Imposter - did they not know who they were talking too?

Apparently not. The buzzard eventually took off, perched on a further bush briefly and then took to the air again, disappearing over the bank.

At Lady Anne's Drive, the birds were closer. Wigeon padded on the wet meadow, and a flock of unruly Brents gargled in the still bright sun. I watched a Common buzzard as it slowly swooped from perch to perch - each time taking a few minutes scanning the rough grass, and once dropping down to pounce and miss a lucky vole.

Surely the days' birders would have had their fill of the wagtail by now. As I strolled over to the field corner, the sky rent with a sharp call, and the Wag dropped in about thirty metres in front of the idiots - yes, idiots - present. It was the same little posse I'd had to disabuse at Wells. Needless to say, they hadn't noticed the bird, despite its call being the equivalent of a lightning strike. Luckily they left after the bird flew further off, leaving just one bloke and myself. We waited ten minutes, and the wagtail flew back in, and as we held still in the shelter of the hedge, it followed a couple of pied Wagtails down the ruts in the soggy corner, closer and closer.

After a while, it flew up and over us, and onto the earth pile it had been feeding on in the morning. It stuck to the shaded side - the more sheltered side, and was drunk in.

Where The Geese Go

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bp8xj6MVfFU&app=desktop

Having declared a lack of interest in the vagries of  sub-specific goose identification it was ironic that my first trip out in 2020 had a distinct lean towards odd geese.  Mark H picked me up at Stuntney Heights way before sunrise and we headed for a gloaming wander out across Titchwell Marsh.  We stood on the seawall and tried our best to count the Marsh Harriers leaving the roost.  We saw well over 50 and at points there were just shy of 30 over the reedbed, a great sight.  A couple of males were mewing and drawing attention to their spectacular skydancing.  I guess with so many potential mates there may be an advantage to staking a territorial claim very early in the season.  The sun didn't exactly rise but it got lighter and we headed down to the beach where a couple of Long-tailed Ducks had Goldeneye, Mergansers and Grebes for company.  We pottered back enjoying the waders and wildfowl.  Our route from here on was a bit of a shopping list of the scarce and unusual along the coast.  First stop a goose field at Fring where a Grey-bellied Brant had joined the Pink-feet.  A distinctive bird of this debated sub-species, much easier to locate in the 1000's of grey geese than the lone White-front and couple of Tundra Bean Geese that we conjured out of the flock. 

After goosing about we had a second look at the Eastern Yellow Wagtail which we located by it's distinctive call in flight and then it landed very close to us giving great views and allowing for full appreciation before we headed to Thornham where a small flock of Twite eventually gave themselves up and a silvery Spotted Redshank was roosting in the creek.

Along the coast road we stopped and saw 7 Cattle Egrets wing in and dissappear onto Holkham Freshmarsh, where a snake-necked Great White Egret stood sentinal.  Down at Lady Annes Drive we enjoyed more discussion about the Brents with 2 a piece of pale-bellied and Brant x Dark-bellied Brent hybrids in the flock.  In the distance we could see the Rough-legged Buzzard atop a bush and a covey of Grey Partridge were watched over by a handsome male.  We took our leave and went bunting hunting, enjoying a 80 strong flock of Snow Bunting.  Frustratingly we failed to find the Shorelarks between bouts of watching the sea duck which centred around a large gathering of several thousand Scoter, including the inevitable presence of a couple of Velvets.

We had some closer views of the Rough-leg at Wells before finishing the day with the Harrier roost at Warham where 2 males and a ringtail joined the Marshies. A fine end to a jam-packed day out.  The previous day I'd enjoyed the Wicken harrier roost and the same ratio of Hen Harrier had roosted there.  The ringtail put on a particularly enjoyable flypast.