Corn Bunting song

Corn Bunting, Miliaria calandra by bogbumper

'We've got a suicide bird!'

This is what woke me up this morning.

Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Thud. Tap.

I couldn't work out what it was, so was forced to get up and investigate. And there was the culprit. A male Chaffinch trying to attack his reflection.

The sustained assault on our window continued until we left for work, with only brief pauses to sing.

On our return this evening, our neighbour came out and said 'We've got a suicide bird!' and described perfectly the antisocial activities of the Chaffinch. The evidence of his continued activity was all too clear, along the windowsill, and high up on the panes were dozens of scuffs. As far as I know, Chaffinch beaks do not have the same glass-cutting properties as diamonds, so they should wipe off.

We put a bit of clingfilm on the outside of the window, to break up the reflection.

I expect he'll be back tomorrow morning, bright and early...

photos taken with Canon EOS 30D, EF 300mm f/4L IS USM

The best kind of meeting

If you have to have a meeting on a sunny Friday afternoon, this is the way to do it:

• leave the office
• select a tranquil, natural environment
• sit on the grass (slightly damp trousers are a small price to pay)
• feel the breeze in your hair and the sun on your face
  
• have your meeting
• listen to Robins singing...
• Great Spotted Woodpeckers drumming...
• Siskins twittering...
• Blackbirds fluting...
• Long-tailed Tits raspberrying...
• Bumblebees buzzing around the daffodils
  

This is post no. 778, by the way.

Raving mad

Yet again, I've been punished for going to work. Darren was off sick this morning but managed to see a Raven heading west over our house. That's garden tick #89, hot on the heels of last week's Tufted Ducks. I think we'll struggle to make 100 species (seen or heard from or in the garden or house), but spring is coming and you never know what that will bring.

On the plus side, I did enjoy a veritable cacophony of birdsong today at work. I only stepped outside to top up the birdfeeder and my eardrums were assaulted by Robins, Blue Tits, Great Tits, Coal Tits, Chaffinches and my first Mistle Thrush of the year (a bit late, that). Which reminds me that I heard a Goldfinch singing at home yesterday.

It felt like spring today. I feel I can see the light at the end of the wintry tunnel.

Snow more

Well, it snowed and snowed and snowed. We had literally several inches of the white stuff! Apparently this copnstituted a "major snow event". The country "ground to a halt", naturally, but I drove to work every day and managed not to stuff it into a hedge, a ditch or any other vehicles. 

Now, the snow is on the way out. It's good news for wildlife, but even when it was at its worst, I watched two Blackbirds chasing each other around in the garden, and a pair of Robins doing the same. You might expect them to suspend their territorial disputes in those extreme conditions, but they didn't. 

Last weekend, we watched a herd of Fallow Deer trot and canter their way across the field, including one striking cream-coloured hind blending in well with her surroundings for once. The stag was hardly the monarch of the glen, with rather feeble antlers it would be generous to describe as a 'pair'. 

Great Tits seem to have begun singing in earnest this week. Outside my window, there's a Chaffinch singing rather half-heartedly, a Dunnock twittering away and earlier, a Greenfinch made a half-baked attempt at the "butterfly" display flight. A male Reed Bunting briefly in the garden is a typical winter bird for us, but the pale tips to the feathers on his head and throat were few and far between, leaving smarter black plumage ready for the breeding season. Male Tawny Owls have been calling in the small hours lately, waking me up on several occasions, but I've yet to hear a female answer.

The next thing will be to see if any amphibians turn up in the pond once it's ice-free.

photos taken with Canon EOS 30D + EF 300mm f/4L IS USM

Il neige

Another day of snow. It's stopped falling, but landscape looks rather lovely with its white coat on.

As I was de-icing the car before leaving for work, I heard my first singing Chaffinch of the year, cooing Stock Doves, a drumming Great Spotted Woodpecker in the tree just across the road, and watched two Blue Tits in some kind of courtship display - there was much high-pitched calling and wing-quivering before they flew off. At work, I've spotted a pair going in and out of a nestbox and making adjustments to the entrance hole, so it's all another reminder that spring's waiting behind the snow.

photos taken with Canon EOS 30D, EF 300mm f/4L IS USM or Canon Powershot A640

Es schneit

As usual, now that we've had about two inches of snow, the useless Brits - or, perhaps I should clarify, the English - can't cope. I had to drive to work at a top speed of 30mph, but it was do-able and by the time I went home (earlier than usual) the roads were a bit damp but otherwise fine. Apparently it's the heaviest snowfall in the south-east for 18 years.

Whilst at my desk I couldn't help but stare out of the window at the snowy scene outside, and wonder how the birds were coping. I watched a few Goldcrests pecking and fluttering amongst the pine needles. They seemed to be finding tiny morsels to eat, but it must be tough for them.

A flock of Long-tailed Tits was calling when I went outside to top up the birdfeeder, but today there was no sign of the Nuthatches that have been whistling noisily for the past couple of weeks.

Sound-wise, I heard my first Song Thrush song of the year last week. It was an unlikely setting: I was waiting in the car outside the Co-Op while Rizlas were being purchased inside, and through the fog and the car window I heard the repeated notes from a Song Thrush. I wonder what made him start singing? It was a horrible morning.

photos taken with Canon Powershot A640

Spring is on its way

OK, so my goal of posting something every day isn't going too well. I'd like to blame - in no particular order - the weather, having a cold and being busy.

Today I emerged from the office for a quick potter around at lunchtime. First thing I noticed was how warm it felt - about 6 degrees, I reckon. Compared to last week, when it barely got above zero, it felt positively pleasant.

I'm sure that the amount of bird noise has increased, too.

Blue Tits seem to be calling from every tree. There were several Great Tits singing already - they've clearly noticed that it's light for longer each day. Robins were also everywhere, but they sing all year so perhaps they don't count. Nuthatches are getting noisy. I'm going to have to read up to find out which of their varied noises is their actual song, but there was a lot of trilling going on today. It's good to hear.

I can't help but listen to birds wherever I am. In a meeting yesterday, we had a window open because it was so stuffy inside. I was paying attention, but I couldn't help but hear the raspberry noises from a flock of Long-tailed Tits from the birch just outside. I watched them flit past but tried not to make it obvious I was distracted. Later, I covertly listened to some Siskins - perhaps at the top of the tree? - and then a Goldfinch.

I felt a tiny bit smug and subversive that I was enjoying the birds while simultaneously in a meeting. Which was very interesting, obviously.

In the bleak midwinter

In the south of the UK, we're at the stage where any snow at all causes problems. We don't know what to do anymore. Last night, a whole inch of snow fell. I felt pretty brave just going outside at lunchtime in search of sheep - it was literally freezing outside!

It took us a while to locate the flock - they'd sensibly headed for the sunniest, most sheltered, snow-free area. I suppose it should have been easy to follow the hoofprints to their hideaway, but it wasn't. On the way there were loads of rabbit prints and a few fox - rabbits were once an important commodity at Sandy. A few Redwings and Fieldfares were flying around, and a single Meadow Pipit. Times are hard for birds at the moment.

So, today's sound was of snow crunching as it compacted under my foot. Crunch, crunch, crunch. So much nicer to tread on fresh snow where nobody else has already. It's not much fun once it gets dirty and slushy.

photos taken with Canon Powershot A640

Pix

Noise of the day?

Pix, the sound of a Hawfinch flying off before I could see it.

Or silence, the noise of a flock of Lapwings flying overhead.

Q: What's brown and goes 'pitchoo'?

A: Marsh Tit (OK, you already knew that).

Today we finally got some more ringing done in the garden (the first session was back in November 2007). We plied Derek with curry and Top Trumps and with the aid of a single mist net and some sunflower hearts, he caught a total of 47 birds this morning:

• Blue Tit, 16 ringed, of which only 5 had hatched last year - indicative of the poor breeding season this species had. Also 2 retrapped (ringed Nov 07)
  
• Great Tit, 8 ringed (of which 4 hatched last year); 1 retrap
  
• Chaffinch, 6 males ringed (though 3 females also around this afternoon - draw your own conclusions)
  
• Marsh Tit, 3 (one adult, two birds hatched in '08)
  
• Dunnock, 3
  
• Coal Tit, 2 ringed; 1 retrap
  
• Wren, 1
  
• Great Spotted Woodpecker, 1 female hatched last year
  
• Greenfinch, 1
  
• Starling, 1 relatively long-winged bird
  
• Robin, 1 retrap
  

The Great Spotted Woodpecker and Starling were spectacular to look at, but the Marsh Tits were the biggest surprise of the day. For a while we've been watching 'a' Marsh Tit coming to the birdfeeder, but then on Christmas Day we finally saw two at once. Today, we were pleased to catch one at the start, and then we found two in the net at the same time! 

Not sure what the sound of the day was. Maybe the 'tap, tap, tap' of the woodpecker on my index finger, or the horrible screeching it made to start with (no harm came to the birds - woodpeckers are noisy and tend to make a fuss). Or was it me going 'ow!' (and worse) as the Blue Tits nipped and hung onto the skin next to my fingernails?

Easier on the ear were the hooting Tawny Owls I heard when I [quickly] opened the window before going to bed. I did try that just after midnight on New Year's Day, but all I could hear were distant volleys of fireworks. And it was flipping cold outside, so I retreated.

Everyone knows that Tawny Owls go 'tuwhit, tuwhoo' (or words to that effect). The hooting ('tuwhoo') is the male owl, and the 'tuwhit' or 'kewick' is the female responding (what came first, the tuwhit or the tuwhoo?). 

Tawny Owls will be starting to breed anytime now; in fact, we heard a young Tawny calling at Swiss Gardens just after Christmas. 

photos taken with Canon Powershot A640

So, er, sounds...

OK, I nearly forgot to write about any sounds, immediately after saying that's what I'd do. 

The sounds I've heard today have been limited by staying indoors nearly all day. The weather here is cold, grey and rather unpleasant, and I've been feeling under the weather so (wisely) stayed inside. 

I went out into the garden today. I was carrying a metal tube and chased after the Grey Squirrel that had jumped up onto the birdfeeder. Don't worry - I didn't batter it into submission - the tube was an extension for the pole the feeder sits on. It's about 6 feet up now, but it didn't stop the squiggle from climbing up it, unfortunately. Need a Plan B. It could involve chilli powder.

Though I was only outside briefly, it's surprising what you can pick up in a few minutes. A Green Woodpecker called from somewhere down the road, Jackdaws chacked away from the Ash tree, and I heard one of our regular Marsh Tits 'pitchoo'ing from the garden next door. Nothing momentous, but there's not much singing going on at this time of year. It won't be long, though.