Some people get flowers...

I get owls...

Okay, not free range owls (otherwise it'd look like some jet-setting international owl stag-do), but Owl Trust owls. It was a bit warmer than a my walks for tawny and barn owls on the island, and there was reliable coffee and cake.

Most excitingly I got to see SIX of my favourites. Gorgeous little Tengmalm's owls, looking like they were straight out of a story book. AND there were two ferruginous pymgy owls; the tiny, rabid fuzz-balls, no bigger than a fluffed up robin.

The volunteers at the trust were wonderful introducing us to many of the birds, and we spent about 3 hours strolling around, waiting for feeding to get the best shots. Anyway, no more exposition-al text this week, on to the OWLS!

Ashy Faced Owl - one of the Tyto's obvs!

The wonderful, magical Tengmalm's

Great Grey Owl

F. Pymgy Owl - dove killer.

Wintery wanderings

Its been a very busy couple of months, with no NaturalistBlonde HQ to return to when it all just gets too much. As such the posts have been a bit thin on the ground (read non-existant). To catch you up, here's a round up of the last couple of months since I bid farewell to Nettlecombe and started winding my way back North...

December was spent in the midlands, and the only time I made it out of the house for a bit of birding was my birthday. Matt and I headed to the Cromford canal in the hope of the ever elusive hawfinches.

Despite a nice clear start and very few people around, the birds eluded me again. Fortunately there were and abundance of thrushes, little grebes and other bits and pieces for me to practice on, all too busy foraging in the intermittent rain to pay any attention to me and my camera.

Dabchick

In January I moved back to the island and threw myself into re-reading my thesis in preparation for my viva.

I did manage to get a little birding in on my occasional walks to stretch my legs and keep my sanity. This winter seems to have brought good numbers of ducks, but a very poor showing of waders. The bad weather had driven many species to be quite bold whilst foraging, and goldcrest have been very busy all around the island.

On the 19th I had the viva. The copious amounts of snow were making most of the roads impassable, so I decided to leave the island two days in advance and stay with friends outside Glasgow, alternately walking/sledging in the snow and panicking over my upcoming examination. When the 19th dawned we found the car frozen solid, and the first hour was spent trying to get the inch of ice off the windscreen.

When I finally got to Glasgow I hovered for an hour trying to concentrate on any part of the past three years, before finally being ushered into the meeting room. It was a bizarre experience of abject terror combined with total enjoyment. Like a roller-coaster with a prize at the end. Emerging shell shocked after 3 hours, I stumbled through prosecco and cake with the department followed by a nice catch-up with Andy, before retreating back to the island for more alcohol and my own bed (catching a glimpse of the barn owl as I drove past the station).

Two days after my viva I was off to Wales for my Hill and Moorland Leader training at FSC Rhy-y-Creuau. I met up with half of the trainees for 2 days walking in the Snowdonia NP (and realised how massively unfit I am after a year sat on my behind!). The remaining snow provided the most evidence of wildlife while we were out - with raven, stoat and fox prints evident - but generally a poor showing wildlife wise.

View toward Siabod

In the last of the manic work related travels for the month I traveled out to what I've been referring to as the "second home in the hills". Two weeks were spent in high ropes training. and teaching a nice snowy rivers day with the first intrepid group of the year. The highlights of the week were GS woodpecker, green woodpecker, tawny owl, red squirrels, and plenty of evidence of pine marten (poop and paw prints mainly).

Second Home

Brerechan field site - winter edition

Squirrel feeder does exactly what it says on the tin

LTT

Signs of spring were everywhere, with birds singing and squabbling over territory, all of which put me in mind of a range of trips and targets for the summer. In addition to this year's corncrake and capercaille quests, I'm planning for trips to photograph golden eagle, osprey, crested tit, and crossbill - taggers on welcome!

Ladybird tick at Nettlecombe Court

After my extended trip back from Slapton (via Aylesbeare), the trainee tutors reconvened at Nettlecombe for our last fortnight together. This time we would be sharing the experiences of our three weeks on placement and polishing our new skills. Aside from being great to see everyone again, the time has been frenetic; a mad mix of skills training and outdoor shenanigans.

In the past fortnight I've been shore profiling on pebble beaches, measuring succession in sand dunes, sampling invertebrates in freshwater streams, and looking at grazing impacts on plant diversity. We've made human graphs, redone all our basic stats tests, and simulated energy loss through food-chains using four buckets and a brace of plant pots. We've even had time to get a game of skittles in. It was definitely fun, but I. am. knackered.

By far the most exciting day we had was animal sampling, where we did everything from kick sampling streams to leaf litter sampling. Sampling around Nettlecombe is a prime example of what you can find if you only look, and – happily for me – also provided a new beastie for my ladybird list. The orange ladybird, Halyzia sedecimguttata, below was found on the dead bracken in the sycamore woodland. We managed to find 3 individuals between us; beautiful little amber beetles with 14 to 16 cream spots that clung, camouflaged, to the brown leaves. The orange ladybird is predominantly a tree dweller, feeding on mildew (commonly on sycamores). They’re mainly active between March and October and can be found commonly in old growth woodland in England and Wales, less frequently in Scotland.

Orange Ladybird

Other sightings in the last fortnight include a host of redwing and fieldfares, a green woodpecker, numerous nuthatches, jays, and a wonderful daylight view of one of the resident tawnies. The highlight, however, has to be the six gorgeous little wood mice, caught during our mammal trapping training.

One of six (was quickly weighed and released where found)

On Saturday I’ll be heading back to Nottingham for the Chirstmas holidays (with a manic dash to Holyrood thrown in for good measure). I’m hoping to get out in search of hawfinches again if the weather and timing permits. 

Thanks to fellow trainee Ilo for the photos for this post!

Starting Cold

One of the bonuses of the new job (beside getting to stay at a centre with an attached reserve) is the opportunity to do hill and moor training in the spring. As I've been sat on my behind a lot this year (birding hasn't been exactly strenuous) I decided to start getting my fitness back in order with some practice hikes. Everyone knows when out walking, its best to start cold; leave off you coat, ditch the scarf, get warm on the way. So I applied that logic to getting back into the hiking habit. Last night I hit the national park interactive map, selected the "more challenging" option, and hoped for the best. The walk chose was a 7 mile round route on Exmoor. I picked it for the same reason I pick most things. It allowed me to say something daft; case and point - "this morning I had to get into Simonsbath".

Simonsbath is only 40 mins from Nettlecombe, so I managed to grab breakfast with the other trainees, load up my bag with trail bars and bananas and be out and walking by 10 past 10. I followed part of the Two Moors Way, alongside the River Barle, to Bradymoor. The route then turned back past Picked Stones, across the Coombe of White Water, and past Winstitchen Farm to return to Simonsbath.

Starting down the Barle Valley

The route is anything but strenuous as I wind my way down the valley, hugging the bank of the Barle; but the ground is very wet and I spend a great deal of time picking round the marshier areas. As I drop down into the valley I pass the ruins of Wheel Eliza, an old mine (originally copper but later iron ore). Then on past the Cow Castle, an iron age fort atop a steeply sided hillock.

River Barle Toward Bradymoor

Just past the Cow Castle is a bridge of White Water, then the path winds up into a conifer plantation, moving away from the river and up onto Bradymoor. 

Conifer Plantation at Horsen Ford

After getting through the plantation, the path then rose for another mile or so, before sharply turning back on itself. The ground was incredibly boggy, and I was glad that I'd managed to reproof my boots the week before. Every gate was a mire formed by hundreds of passing feet, but thankfully I only met 5 people in the day. 

As I dropped down into White Water Coombe, I realised that the walk was the wrong way round! Suddenly the gradient shot up and I was looking at a sloping valley wall. After a year of not walking, and the previous two hours hard pace, I made a real meal out of the hill; stopping halfway up to "enjoy the view". But once at the top, the only way was down, through another four boggy fields and Britain's highest beech forest, before slipping my way back to the car. 

Exmoor was definitely the best place to restart my walking, as the route was incredibly kind... maybe I'll try for a 10 mile walk next Sunday...

So Long Slapton... (another en route lifer)

The last 3 weeks at Slapton have been very kind to me. In addition to the daily spectacle of the starlings (which dropped off two days ago as the roost split in two), I've had pom skua, firecrest, yellow-browed warbler, black necked grebe, cirl bunting, and bittern to look at. Everyone at the centre and in the village was warm and welcoming, and I've been able to explore a number of exciting sites. Unsurprisingly then, I was a little sad to be leaving this morning (especially after the fun of the panto the night before), and a little down as I devoured my last Slapton-cooked breakfast.

Not wanting to waste a day of on the south coast, I decided to try to tick something off my birding bucket list, something that my northerly location usually ruled out. I have had a Dartford warbler pin badge on my camera bag for 3 years, just waiting for its turn on my bin's strap (only birds I've actually seen make it onto the strap). So, after loading up the car with all our luggage, I said goodbye to the girls and headed out to Aylesbeare Common. 

Arriving at the common just after ten, I parked up at the nearest lay-by and headed off down the nearest path. I wandered fairly aimlessly through the scrub until I found a likely spot (very marshy, the gorse dotted with low birch and willow); then I settled down to wait.

I wasn't waiting long, very soon a small dark bird with an almost long-tailed tit flight was working its way through the scrub. Its call was wren-like, almost like a wren with a back throat; and it was highly vocal as it observed me from between the branches. I'll be honest, I was hoping for one of those iconic "top-of-the-gorse" shots, but the bird was having none of it. Always in motion, the best I got was the shot below. I'm still elated though, I can finally put the "Dartford" badge where it belongs. However, I do now need a new target....

Aylesbeare Common

Starling murmurations are amazing...

Recently, I've been starting most posts with "up at 6 to count starlings" . Which goes to show what happens when I go out of my way to be nice and ingratiate myself with strangers... I get jobs at ridiculous times in the morning. 

Thankfully, this one is awesome. The birds that I usually take for granted in summer months, suddenly take on the same epic proportions usually reserved for wader roosts and raptor migrations (and that's a big dose of brilliant). 

I also often forget what smart little characters they are...

That's Captain Starling to you....

While most of our starlings are resident, many in the north and east of Europe migrate in the colder months. The birds at Slapton are mainly migrants from Scandinavia, mixed with the local population. Check out this distribution map I shamelessly stole from the BTO website.

Starling migration routes

The roosts are generally a defence against predators and a way to stay warm, and the best time to see the birds is just after dawn and right before dusk; their animated chatter can often lead you to a roost at dawn. Once you're in position, you have to rely on the brids for the rest; the displays can vary in duration and flamboyance with weather and predator abundance. Anyway, here's that video I promised of the birds arriving last night. Enjoy!

A Weekend Off (and another game of spot the birdy)

... this weekend didn't feel like a weekend off. The 6 am starts to count the starling out of the roost are really starting to hurt; however, it does mean I get to be out in the best part of the day. On Saturday I headed down to Prawle and spent a couple of hours seawatching, by which I mean I was distracted by a pod of Atlantic white-sided dolphins - which handily brought in a large flock of gannets, kittiwakes and gulls. Luckily enough, a pomarine skua flew right into scope whilst I was staring, otherwise I'd have had nothing new to show for the shift. On the way back to the car I managed some quick snaps of buntings and stonechats, then back to the Ley to catch the starlings as they came back in. There were approximately 50000 birds, but they came in in bulk, making estimation difficult; to make matters worse, they decided to drop in down the far end of the Ley.

Stonechat

On Sunday I headed down to Strete to find where the birds had dropped in - driving slowly along the beach with the window down to pick up the chattering. By 0715 they were all up, rewarding me with a brief display in the morning light before disappearing over the hill (I'll upload one of my videos as soon as I can cut them to size, I promise).

After watching the birds, I drove down to Torcross to check out the ducks... nothing doing - so I headed back, glancing at the beach as I went... 

"Hmmmm" said my brain, "that's too little for a cormorant".

"But, breakfast." said my stomach.

"Way too little," my brain recounted "Spin the car around blondie..."

I sped up to quickly get to the Ley car park, where I could wing the car around, and belted back to Torcross. I noted the position of the bird as I passed a second time and, after re-parking the car, quickly headed back to where I'd last seen it.

"It is small..." the brain chimed in again, but not a diver.

The bird was about 50 meters away now and I finally stopped to look through my bins.

Winner, black-necked grebe. Breakfast time.

Black-necked grebe

After breakfast I ran back down to the reserve. The rain had really raised the water level and I was hoping that a few little birds would be driven out of the reeds. I wasn't wrong. Over the course of the day I saw no less that 3 cetti's warblers, and even managed clear shots of a few. 

First up, my most acrobatic of individuals, see if you can spot it. Answers on a postard (... or in the comments box).

Spot the warbler

Rare moment of visibility