Friday night in Cheshunt

A slightly strange evening. We'd just arrived at Sainsburys when I had a call from Steve to say he'd got a Hoopoe on a school playing field in Biggleswade - 5 minutes away! (it had been reported just down the road by persons unknown earlier in the day).

So we went and saw that, and watched it feeding happily amongst the daisies. Said hello to the new arrival on the Beds birding scene, who then added Hoopoe to his already-impressive life list. Then we met with Mark and decided to go for the Lee Valley Savi's Warbler.

And that's how we got to spend Friday night in Cheshunt.

We did hear the Savi's singing ('reeling'), but it didn't show itself. I didn't need it for my UK list anyway, having added it back in May 1991, on my first-ever twitch (and the last one for about 9 years) at Stanwick in Northamptonshire.

It got chilly and frustrating, waiting for the target bird to reveal itself. But instead of boasting loudly about upcoming holidays like most twitchers, we watched and heard what was going on in front of us.

• Common Terns floating over the pools
• Clouds of midges
• A Water Rail swimming across the channel
• A Hobby catching and eating insects on the wing
• Reed Warblers chuntering away
• Coots fighting
  
• Nightingale and Cetti's Warbler singing

Best of all was a Great Crested Grebe fishing for its two stripy chicks. We watched the parent swimming around for ages, 'snorkelling' with head under the water looking for prey. When it did eventually catch a fish, it was a large Rudd far too big for the youngsters! One had a brave attempt to swallow it, but without success. Eventually the adult gulped it down, but it looked like hard work...

It was much better than the Savi's Warbler.

Crest of fire

You know what it's like when your feet are really, really cold. You think they're almost numb but they're not, because they hurt. You long to get back in the car and put the heater on, and then get out of there.

That was me this morning at the Swiss Gardens, and we were on our way back to the car when suddenly it appeared by the bridge: a tiny eyestripe of a bird flying through the trees away from us. 'Got it!'

We then spent 15 minutes watching the Firecrest as it hovered around the ivy several metres off the ground, clung to tiny stems and darted from leaf to leaf (why does a small bird which must have to feed constantly bother to hover?). It wasn't close, but it was close enough.

Before, I'd been thinking that it didn't matter that we hadn't seen it, because I'd enjoyed the Siskins singing, and the flocks of Long-tailed Tits, and the flock of six Nuthatches bickering just in front of us anyway, so all was not lost. To see the Firecrest as well was merely the icing on the cake.

Insight into the mind of a twitcher

'Which clown decided to release a message that a Siberian Rubythroat is present in Sunderland and has been for 2-plus days but states that there is no access nor identifies the site. These types of messages really piss me off. I would much rather not know at all, than to be wound up knowing there is one in the country and some folks have seen it to positively ID it...

'That message totally ruined my Sunday. A twitchable mainland Siberian Rubythroat, My God, I quiver like a Redstart’s arse just thinking about it. Only it’s not so twitchable because no one KNOWS where it is. This is the kind of bird grown men dream about, who needs Kelly Brook or Angelina Jolie when you can find Luscinia calliope in your garden.'

Poor old Otis Bilious...

East coast in the Yorkshire style

Just back from a weekend in Yorkshire with Mark (oops, wrong one) and Jenny.

Though I suffered from a variety of ailments throughout, even I had a good time.

Friday evening. Went to put some mist-nets up (the original intention of the weekend was to go ringing, but that got shelved in favour of birding) at Mark's secret site. Appropriately enough, it was foggy.

As we walked to the net rides, a Merlin flew towards us after a Meadow Pipit. The falcon dodged away from us at a range of about 15 feet and the pipit melted into the hedge.

A couple of Grey Partridges 'krrrrrr'd from the surrounding fields, and a skein of Pinkfeet oinked from somewhere overhead. All atmospheric stuff. Back into Brid for a curry to be consumed in our luxury static caravan...

Saturday. I finally got out to Flamborough Head in the afternoon (the boys were out all morning). Our team of five (we were joined by Mark and Gareth) had a pretty successful time. Starting off at the steps on the way to Old Fall, Darren picked up a Yellow-browed Warbler in the hedge. Nice work!

At the plantation, there were a few Bramblings and dozens of Redwings made themselves heard. I was trying to string a Blackbird perched at the back of a tree into a Ring Ouzel (were those really pale wing markings I could see?) when it flew off. Left the wood and MT emerged from round the corner: 'Did you get the ouzel?'

Lots of Redwings and Blackbirds shifting about along the hedges, fresh in from their North Sea crossings.

Along the way to the lighthouse, the Marks heard a Richard's Pipit fly up from an adjacent field. I completely failed to hear any pipits calling. I seem to be getting quite good at that. Short-eared Owl on a fencepost.

On our arrival back into civilisation (the lighthouse area), the place was heaving with birdwatchers who'd arrived in a bus. MT spotted something flitting about in a sycamore in someone's back garden. The something turned out to be another Yellow-browed. We alerted a few nearby birders, phoned the news out and moved on.

Someone told us of a Black Redstart just a little further along the road. A fine male, sitting up on a barn roof, which was then joined by a second, female-type, bird.

'There's a Black Redstart here', a birdwatcher informed us, helpfully. He then saw something flit past us, low to the ground, towards the barn. 'Pied Wagtail'. That was the male Black Redstart...

Sunday. Drove home via Blacktoft Sands and the Buff-breasted Sandpipers. Went along expecting to see two birds, but by the time we arrived, they'd multiplied into three birds! A nice bonus.

Half a day's holiday...

... and for what?

While we were in Cornwall last week, a juvenile Pallid Harrier turned up in east Norfolk, at Winterton. D spent all week going 'I hope it hangs around until we're back!' and since we were too knackered to go for it on Sunday, he opted to take an afternoon off work today.

(I had to follow suit really, or I wouldn't have been able to get home.)

So, we wound our way through the lovely country lanes of Norfolk (mostly on the A14 and A47, actually) until we found the spot where the harrier had been seen last.


There was a small encampment of around 10 birders by the roadside. As we sat down at the edge of a sugar-beet field and began scanning, it was increasingly obvious that none of the other were actually looking for the bird - they were all standing around chatting, comparing optics, bragging about their latest holidays... anything but actively looking for the bird.

We spent three hours sitting and scanning, to no avail.

That's another 0.5 of a day of annual leave, gone, then...

Remind me not to go twitching...

Much against my better judgement, I went twitching after work last night (again).

Things didn't start too badly - we headed for the Red-footed Falcon (see Steve Blain's photos) at Marston Vale Country Park. On the walk along the cycle path on the way to the bird, we came across this Common Toad, which I had to stop and photograph:


Regrettably, there was no sign of the Red-foot, nor of much else. A group of bored-looking birders was loafing in the area. But we did bump into Tom McKinney and Miss Sarah Cole, which was good, and agreed to meet up in the Boat Inn at Thrupp, our next destination, where there is a Scops Owl...

Tom had already been once, on Wednesday night, and witnessed some amusing scenes. The bird had been clearly audible but could not be seen so easily. To get from one side of the tree where it was to the other, you had to go through a kissing gate, which only allows one person through at a time.

There were around 400 people trying to get around in a hurry, so twitchers started hurdling the fence next to the gate, with predictable results: 'It was like Becher's Brook in the Grand National... one bloke caught his leg on the fence and fell into a blackberry bush...'

There had also been sporadic fighting in the cramped conditions. Great!


Big lamps were employed to try to pinpoint the bird's location, but were unsuccessful (though it did keep calling). Disappointingly, there was no fighting while we were there, but we did spot Lee Evans. Ha.

We saw the bird several times, but always as a silhouette as it led the assembled crowd a merry dance


In the end, following the owl around got a bit boring and it was late, so we went home.

photos taken with Nikon Coolpix 995

Lunchtime twitching success

Probably the best day of the year for birding so far, but unfortunately it fell on a weekday, not a weekend or bank holiday. But Darren, Mark and I got out at lunchtime to Broom gravel pits, where we twitched three Black Terns and a Little Gull. It would have been nice to have stayed out all afternoon, though...

digiscoped photo taken with Nikon Coolpix 995 + Leica Apo Televid 77 with 20x eyepiece

Limited success

Today was a funny old day.

Mid-morning, I received a phone call from Darren to say one of his colleagues had seen a Firecrest in the gardens. At lunchtime, Mark Ward and I went to have a look for it - without much optimism, it has to be said. There's a lot of habitat for a 'crest to hide in and my previous success in refinding them has been zero.

We'd been searching in the right spot for about 15 minutes and it wasn't looking too promising.

Then, all of a sudden, the bird popped up in some shrubbery in front of us. It quickly flew up into a tall yew tree and vanished into the branches.

'S***! It's a Firecrest!'

I had a rather brief view, mainly of its backside, but got a glimpse of the eyestripe which made my heart race.

(Have a look at Steve Round's stupendous Firecrest photos)

Next, I reached into my pocket and phoned Darren's mobile.

'This person's phone is currently switched off.'

Doh! Tried again, and then his landline, but he'd gone to lunch and was uncontactable! So that was a tad annoying, to say the least.

After work, we spent an hour or so trying to relocate the Firecrest (without any joy) before heading off to Fowlmere to see the Hoopoe which was found there earlier today.

Sadly, by the time we arrived it had gone to roost in a dense hedge, and if a nice man with his scope already on it hadn't given us a look, I don't think we'd ever have been able to find it ourselves. You could see some pinky-brown bits and occasionally some black and white wing, but that was it. Just bits of Hoopoe in isolation, never the whole bird in all its glory.

It was decidedly unsatisfactory. I hope we'll manage to go for another one later this year.

American Wigeon

Did some dirty twitching today. Yes, some more...

We had fun waiting to see the American Wigeon at Needingworth or Barleycraft or Ouse Fen, whatever you want to call it. But eventually he played ball and we had reasonable views through the trees on one of the pits there. A truly beautiful bird, but unfortunately he soon disappeared from view and there were no photos to be had.

Lesser Scaup

Went over to RSPB Ouse Washes for a little light twitching - the Lesser Scaup which has been there for a while now.

Read more about it at The Not Very Big Year.

Inland birding

A jaunt southwards this morning to take in some of the delights that inland birding brings. What, Mallards, Great Crested Grebes and Green Woodpeckers? I hear you ask...



For once, no... Above: Great Northern Diver at Diddington Pit (part of the Paxton Pits complex). A rather too obliging bird that came too close to the shore and disappeared from view. Sometimes you just can't win.



Then, off to Grafham Water and the angling lodge at Mander CP. Superb views of a smashing little bird. The male Long-tailed Duck was also showing very well and diving all too frequently. In days gone by, I'd have been happy with getting really close views of a gorgeous seaduck, but now I WANT PHOTOS! Sadly, this record shot was all I could manage.

We could have driven the short distance to Needingworth and the drake American Wigeon, but opted instead to visit a site in an adjacent county, where we enjoyed some splendid Short-eared Owl action. Four birds were present, with two getting involved in some aerial claw-to-claw combat with each other.

To sum up, a good day's birding... I mean twitching...

digiscoped photos taken with Nikon Coolpix 995 + Leica Apo Televid 62 with 16x eyepiece

Twitching

I've said it before: I'm not really much of a twitcher. But, as has been pointed out to me on several occasions this week, it's not often that a Gray-cheeked Thrush* turns up in Hertfordshire. And so, like many others, I was persuaded into going to see it.

I've been to see a few other Really Big Birds (Black Lark, Cream-coloured Courser, American Robin), but today's thrush was by far the hardest work. We stood around in the cold for more than two hours before getting a look at the little... beauty - for all of 15 seconds. When I did see it, the bird was partially obscured by twigs, leaves, branches and 200 other twitchers.

I saw Nigel Blake's superb Gray-cheeked portrait last night, which whetted my appetite. After spending all morning waiting around to see the bird, I thought, ha, at least he'll have sat around for hours getting cold like the rest of us. But it seems this was not the case - he dropped in while on his lunchbreak and the beast flew to within 30 feet of him. Talk about jammy...



Fortunately, the Red-necked Grebe at Priory Country Park, Bedford, was a lot more obliging. Like the Ferry Meadows bird of 2004, this one seemed not to be bothered be our presence on the shore, though it didn't care for barking dogs or screaming children.

Just as interesting was to watch about six Grey Wagtails come in to roost in bankside vegetation by a sluice gate - not something I've seen before.

photos taken with Nikon Coolpix 995 + Leica Apo Televid 62 with 16x eyepiece

*It's an American bird so it gets an American spelling from me

Crrr crrr, zzze zzze, ack ack...

Ah, the sweet, sweet sound of Great Reed Warbler song...

After work this evening, I did a bit of twitching. It wasn't too far away, so I went to see the Great Reed at Willington gravel pits near Bedford. I heard it before I saw it. It's been a couple of years since I last heard one, but it definitely brought to mind a faulty dot-matrix printer.

Conditions weren't really ideal, being quite breezy and distinctly cold, but eventually it climbed up a swaying reed stem and sat out in the open to sing.

We [a small gathering of twitchers] were viewing from across the other side of the reed-fringed pit where the Great Reed had taken up residence, but after a bit of singing, it flew across to our side (and out of view). Lars Jonsson was about right when he said they were the "size of a small thrush!" Our 'normal' Reed Warbler measures about 13cm from bill to tail, but Great Reed Warbler is more like 19cm. What a whopper!

Steve Blain has a photo of this bird on Birdguides.com

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On another note, I've had (at the last count) 165 hits on my blog today (including one from the United States House of Representatives!) and three comments this evening! Welcome to you all. That's almost three times the total of yesterday's hits, and there are still 40 minutes to go.

Will somebody please tell me what's going on?

Wait a moment...

Ah... the source is the Blogger homepage! That's pretty cool... I'm shocked!

Greater Sand Plover

As I've said before, it is sometimes nice to go and see an interesting bird, even if it is Out Of Area. So this afternoon I drove up to Norfolk with Mike to Snettisham to see a moulting summer-plumaged Greater Sand Plover. ("I'm thinking of going for this sand plover, and you're going to drive!" - this is fair enough, since MJW has given me plenty of lifts in the past).

Presumably this is the sand plover sp. which was seen flying south at Spurn, East Yorkshire, yesterday.

Things didn't look very promising to start with, since a) it was bucketing down with rain on the way there, and b) when we got to the RSPB car-park, there were about four cars in it - where was everyone??!

Me: There aren't many people here, are there?
MJW: No.

After some staring out at the Wash for a while (tide miles away), and a text from Mark 'Wardy' Ward, we decided to go down to the 'beach car-park' (with Sophie from Holme Observatory), where we found a fair-sized crowd and the Greater Sand Plover. YOU BEAUTY!

The light was pretty bad and the bird a bit distant for digiscoping, especially on my magnification. It's sometimes hard to stop digiscoping and remind yourself you're there to enjoy the sight of a rare and beautiful bird. When you have the kit, it seems churlish not to try for some photos, but when they're this bad...

This is my 'best' record shot:

Greater Sand Plover, Charadrius leschenaultii

There are much better pics on Surfbirds at the moment (and better to come, I'm sure). There were plenty of birding luminaries and acquaintances there - Nigel Blake, Graham Catley, Paul Hackett, Lee Evans...

On the way back to the car, we said hello to Trevor, Jane and Dan Williams, Will Bowell and Bob Titman from PBC. It was just starting to rain again, but by the time we hit King's Lynn, it was sunny...

Euro 2004 conclusion
There weren't nearly enough decent mullets to be seen, especially after the groups, but Greece have just won the tournament, 1-0 against the hosts, Portugal!

Cristiano Ronaldo is sobbing into his shirt.

I think I may have just won the sweepstake at work (guess how many goals would be scored, including penalties). Considering how little I know about football, this would be some feat indeed. I will wait and see tomorrow. Not holding my breath.

On a slight downer, my telly's just blown up...

What's in my CD player: Guerilla - Super Furry Animals