Days with James: Naturalist Blonde meets Common by Nature

A few months back I wrote a post about the Blyth's Reed Warbler in Aberdeen, I had chatted to a few birders during the day, one of which turned out to be a friend of a friend (birding can be a small world). Well, I've never been one to miss making a new birding buddy, and now we're both back down in England-shire, a twitch seemed in order.

On Friday James came to Yorkshire. After swinging by the station at 8:30 to pick him up, we headed for our first target - Richard's Pipit at Swillington; we batting the traffic out of the city in the general direction of Leeds. After 30 minutes we were schlepping a mile through the mud (me trying to avoid slipping with camera and scope), heading for Caroline bridge where the bird was last seen. 

By the time we arrived the mud was up to my knees and the bird was absent, having very recently flitted out of sight. Over the next 30 mintues we brush bashed with the local birders, effectively traipsing back and forth after flushed meadow pipits... Then, salvation. 

One of the birders closer to the bridge pointed out a bird overhead... The dicky pipt had go over. We tracked it to a scrub covered spit, where we had a nice, albeit brief view of the bird. Time to move on (and for hot chocolate).

I, unfortunately, did not manage a picture

From here, we jolted across to Filey for the juvenile surf scoter that had been hanging around of the Brigg. Thankfully the traffic had cleared and we made a trip in an ease hour and thirty. Pulling up we were happy to find two birders already in place, intently staring at the sea. Unfortunately, they hadn't seen it.

It was blisteringly cold facing into the wind, and the chop made observing any sightings impossible. We spent 15 minutes at the car park (enjoying chicken and leek pasties), occasionally looking into the piercing wind. Then we gave up, and made out way out onto the Brigg in favour of shelter and - perhaps - a better view. We scanned the sea, picking up little gull in the process, then looked back toward the shore. Then James spotted another black shape back towards the Brigg, almost under the cliff. I spun the scope and there it was. Job done. 

Saturday I went to Northumberland, Fist of we headed for the Iceland gull that had been seen at QE2 Park... No joy.Then Almouth green-wing teal... Nope. Dejected we headed for Stag Rocks, surely there would be something good on the sea...

Even  the journey was a chore. a wrong turn en route and a flood barring the coast road. Neither of us was optimistic. But then we arrived, to ge greated by a flat calm sea, a weak onshore breeze and birds everywhere. Long tailed ducks  (around thirteen in total), great northern diver, at least three red throated diver, slavonian grebe, little gull and velvet scoter. With bonus purple sandpiper on the beach. Hot chocolate, coffee, pasties and a sea water in dry, calm conditions. Fantastic.

Wish I'd taken this, but the view we had was slightly further away and the bird was facing right. Otherwise spot on!

Finally we went for the little auk at Blyth, well we should have known not to bother. Ten minute before we arrived there was a report of it being visible through bins... When we arrived there were jet skiers, and no bird... We pottered around for a while longer before giving up and heading home.

Despite the numerous dips, I managed 3 new birds this weekend and made a good didn't in my year list. And I've still got one day of the weekend left... time for a well earned whisky.

For James's take on the trip, or more info on birding in Northumberland, check out his excellent blog here.

New Year, New Gear!

This Christmas I've finally decided to upgrade my kit. The old eos 450 just wasn't cutting the mustard any more, so - with I little help - I have moved on to a lovely second hand 7D. The 450 will be retired to landscape work. AND, to stop myself dying as I carry both scope and camera, I have purchased a brilliant Black Rapid sport strap. I have already noticed the difference, its made lugging the old sigma 150-500 much easier.

I have also made provisions for my welfare; I've picked up a new stanley (as I often drive home with massive headaches after only drinking half a bottle of H2O on 8 hour twitches) and a toasty fjallraven hat (which has nothing to do with my coveting Gordon Buchanan's kit on The Snow Wolf Family and Me). So the birding bug-out bag is a little heavier, but hopefully my pictures and posts will be a little better. I hope everyone is looking forward to 2016 as much as me. Bring on the birds!

Mwahahaha, I'm a big girly girl and I use filters on my pictures

Ending the Year

After the usual unsuccessful attempt at Hawfinch on my birthday (the big three-"o"), there wasn't much opportunity for birding before returning to York. So by the morning of the 31st I was keen to get out and about, and was in my car by 7:45. Hartlepool first for black-throated diver. I was expecting the cold and the wind. I wasn't expecting a slightly emotional meeting with an old friend. 

Aora, the University Marine Biological Station's largest research vessel, has been working out of Hartlepool since she was sold off. Somehow I didn't twig that she would be there when I was out birding. She was the first thing I saw when I parked up, and I couldn't grab my camera and scope fast enough as I shot out of the car. Aside from the change to the registration she looked just the same, but I couldn't help but give her a full check over with the scope; so engrossed I nearly missed the diver feeding of her port side. 

Still Beautiful

Low light and a fair amount of chop

From Hartlepool I headed up to Widdrington in search of the Bewick's that had been seen the previous day, but driving along the side of the lake I could see no sign of anything swanny on the water. I pulled up next to the lone car in the car park, dragged out my scope, and set up on the windy shoreline. Nothing on the water (besides goldeneye, gadwall and mallard), and only a juvenile mute swan on the bank. The couple from the par car joined me and also set up scope and then a third car appeared and together we gazed over grey water. I had the usual "unusual to see a girl birder" talk with one half of the couple that were in the first car, before checking my phone to see that two Bewick's had been seen at Grindon Lough, over an hour's drive away. 

Dejectedly I swung my scope to the far shore in order to look over one of the flooded areas behind the lake-proper, landing it straight onto the great northern diver that had been seen earlier in the day. Calling it, I was complimented on the keenness of my eyesight; I was so miffed about the swans that I decided to take the compliment rather then admit to my total luck. Eventually the others left and I decided to walk further up the lake to try and get a view on the obscured near shore, as I did so a second birder pulled up and asked what I'd had. I complained about the Bewick's and pointed out the rough direction of the great northern; he headed down to the car park and I carried on to set up at the new vantage point. I picked up the GN diver again, but still no swans. Sod this, off to Grindon.

After a pretty uneventful drive I arrived at the lough at noon. A couple of birders were there and reported seeing a few swans tucked behind a rise in one of the flooded areas (around 5 birds), but not being sure of their identity due to the distance. As they spoke one bird swam out - a juv mute - and my heart sank. 

I rearranged the scope so that I could sit in the car out of the chilly wind, and soon another 3 mutes appeared. Urgh. Looking back another birder was parked about 200 meters behind, doing exactly the same as me. I contemplated walking out to get a decent back view on the bank, but didn't fancy the breeze and sat tight. Then finally, thankfully, after 15 more frustrating minutes, two more swan heads appeared. Smaller swan heads, with beaks that looked entirely black at the distance.

I hoped out of the car to re-sight the scope and the red car behind me drove up to park just behind mine. And there they were, two diminutive little swans. Too far for a decent shot even through the scope. But undeniably themselves. Finally my stomach rebelled at the lack of food on offer and I decided to head for home. Two birds better off before the new year. 

I'm still hoping for that 400 by 40 target, only 176 to go....

Swan-like blurry things

Swan-like blurry things next to a larger mute-swan-like blurry thing

Norfolk Madness - 04:45 is a terrible thing

This weekend fellow blonde birder, Tom, and I decided on a day in Norfolk to mop up some winter migrants. The reports had been coming in all week and we were even more sure than normal that the working year couldn't end soon enough. The plan was to hit as many sites as we could, before dark, then Welney for tea and floodlit swans.

We were into the car at the god-awful time of 5 am and arrived at Holme at 7:30 (where there had been reports of shore lark the previous day). As we worked our way out along the spit there wasn't a thing moving, we were the only things daft enough to be out at that hour. The wind was battering through but the light was good. As we made it to the end of the point - at about 8:15 - a few bits and bobs were starting to move. Then, disaster. Three shapes lifted ahead of us and made of in the direction of the marsh. Three lark-like shapes. 

We settled in for a long wait on the leeward side of the sand dunes; ducking low out of the wind. But thankfully, suddenly, they returned; calling as they passed over head, before settling back in the same scrub as they had appeared from, and proceeded to pick through the dead vegetation. Once fully awake they were more tolerant of people, allowing passing dog walkers within 50 meters and letting me get a few snaps.

Shore lark trio

From there we went to Choseley, ticking of the lingering rough-legged buzzards, then on to Titchwell in search of water pipit. We picked up the birds but, after leaving, found out that the bloody red-rumped swallow had been at the other end of the reserve while we were there. After Titchwell we headed over to Cley for a rattle round before dark, grabbing snow bunting, but with no sign of the phalarope that had been seen again in the morning. The light dropping and hungry and sleepiness rising, we headed for much needed chips, then swans, then another 3 hour drive back to Sutton Coldfield and some well earned rest...

After sleeping for 11 hours I decided to have a run at the hoopoe in Kingswinford. Regular readers will know that I spectacularly dipped on hoopoe two years ago - running for a bird in Dumfrieshire - so I was pretty determined to bag this one. Arriving on site there were a few other birders about ready to wander in; they had been told the bird was about and showing well, so we hurried onward together.

There were a few other local birders on point when we arrived and, as usual, the blasted bird had just flown. Into the trees at the bottom end of the field in this case. After standing for a minute of two, one of the locals offered to walk down the slope to locate it. Minutes later he was pointing us into one of the fenced areas. 

We walked across but couldn't locate the bird in the scrub. Just as we settled in to wait it helpfully flew to a conspicuous spot in the trees behind. Sitting for a while in full view before returning to vanish in the dense, tussocky grass. For a while I stood with the others, racked with guilt over the lunch that I was about to be late for. After a few more minutes of grass obscured snaps, I caved and packed up for the drive home - calling the weekend at 4 new species.

Not living up to its friendly rep

Best view before the drive home

Crag Martin at the Crooked Spire

After moving back to York a month ago, I finally got the opportunity to get to Spurn for the weekend, just in time for the tail end of the hurricane to hit the UK. Arriving at 10:30 I nipped into the wetlands, stopping at the car park for a while to watch a short eared owl quartering the field across the road. From the hide there was only a dunlin, redshank, and a flock of brent geese, and after 20 minutes I decided to head down to the reserve. 

There wasn't much moving there either and the clouds were brooding. I wandered down the point past the wash-over, but the beach was bare and the waders well dispersed over the exposed mud, so I turned back north. As I walked between sea-watch and the Blue Bell I could see another SEO over Canal Scrape, but aside from a couple of goldcrests at beacon lane, that was as fun as it got. I forged onwards to the lagoons, hoping for snow bunting on the beach, but no luck; then the rain hit, and I enjoyed a damp half hour trudge back to the obs. The persisted brizzle was quick to soak me through and turn my thoughts first to hot drinks and drying off, then to curries and pints.

Sunday started dismally; as the rain tailed of at 9 the next morning we stood on the cliff top, counting through the siskin, goldfinch, redpoll and twite. There was little moving on the sea, just a few divers and auks, but I did pick up my first little gull on the Humber. All last week I had been looking at the reports of crag martin at Chesterfield, but had not had the opportunity to get on the road. After fidgetting at sea-watch for half an hour in the hope of something exciting I cracked, said goodbye to everyone, and hopped into the car. 

Two hours later I'd parked the car and found the small crowd off birders at the church. As I arrived one car was leaving for the stadium, where the bird had been most recently sighted, but it suddenly appeared round a building and began circling the church.

I watched the bird for just over an hour as it made quick passes around the crooked spire, only once vanishing across to the stadium. Luckily the rain held off, but unfortunately for me the bird was just to fast for me and my poor camera. I did get a couple of records, but none of the real super-shots that I saw on the LCD's of some of my fellow twitchers. Still, one closer to 400!

Tail spots just visible

Buff under-side

Chaos in Crete

A belated post following a workshop on storytelling in science education Rachel (FSC Scotland) and I were running at the European Marine Science Educators Association conference in Crete. Cushy right? 

I'd gotten a little preparatory reading done and, as far as I could tell, the Heraklion area was not the buzzing hub of Cretan bird life; but after a drab Scottish summer and the short winter nights on the horizon, I was certainly ready for a chance to be out in the warm (hopefully not too warm). I was also aware that spare time would be incredibly limited, so I set my sites low with hope of a handful of new species: maybe a shrike or two, or a new heron, perhaps a red-throated pipit... 

On the first day there was the usual disappointment. The venue were nowhere near fresh water, there were very few birds on the surrounding wires, the scrub was filled with sparrows... As we walked along the sea front I failed to spot a single gull or wader. Inside, I was grumbling... too warm... bloody heavy camera... gotta be a dry river bed somewhere...

We eventually reached the aquarium, our venue for the week, and I got my first hints of wildlife. In amongst the ubiquitous sparrows, a few crested larks and pipits foraged... not much, but a start. 

Crested Lark

prob. tawny pipit

The next day I cracked it. Look up. As I sat dejectedly with a coffee I watched a falcon come in from the sea. Then a flock of egrets go over. Then purple heron. Three hooded crows. Over the break I ticked of a further four species before giving up and immersing myself in the haze of networking and strong coffee that is the conference day.

Unfortunately that was abut it, aside from the flyovers the real highlight was the incredibly confiding kingfishers that worked the little inlets along the beach. But there was so much promise in the hills that loomed on the horizon, covered by low scrub. When I return I'll be heading to those hills (more prepared for the hot weather), with warblers in my sights. Until then I have the memory of strong coffee, friendly delegates, and the promise of doing it all again next year in Belfast.

Storytelling workshop

The Brampton Bee-Eaters

On the way back from York I decided to nip in on the bee-eaters that set up home just outside Carlisle. Two pairs had set up burrows amongst a thriving colony of 500 sand martins in an active quarry. The RSPB had wisely suppressed their presence until the eggs hatched, however, one of the nests failed due to a cliff slide. Since news of the nest was released the remaining pair and their helper had been incredibly popular.

When I arrived today the quarry couldn't have been more like the Mediterranean; the weather was warm and windless and the steep quarry sides radiated the heat back - it was baking. In my eagerness to get to the view point I passed three groups of slogging birders heading up the slope, and by the time I reached the first stop I was toasted. 

Happily, one bird dropped in as soon as I arrived, and the adults were visiting the nest every 10 minutes or so. Not only that, we had great views of a hobby hunting martins over the quarry. I snapped away for an hour before heading back to the car for the last 4 hours in the car.

The pictures aren't amazing as the birds kept their distance from our side of the valley, but the views were great.