Scotland - part 2

Image by Sebastian Niedlich (Grabthar) via Flickr

I bade a sad goodbye to Grantown and made the slower than expected drive over to Oban, where I was to spend the night in the rather less than glamorous (but perfectly adequate) Oban Backpackers. The next day I took the ferry journey over to Mull for a day of birdwatching with Island Encounter. I had been on a similar trip two years ago with a rival firm and Yorkshireman David, who was brilliant, but I wanted to try the opposition. I wasn't disappointed. Richard was, I was pleased to discover, another Yorkshireman (why are there so many on Mull?! they weren't the only Yorkshire accents I picked up that day) but with a slightly less gruff manner than David and just as much knowledge injected with a good bit if humour.

We started off looking for white-tailed sea eagles, without any joy, though I was delighted to see a male marsh harrier, which I've never seen before as well as some little meadow pipits darting in and out of the hedges.

We moved onto the shore and were rewarded with cormorants, curlews, eiders, gannets, canada and greylag geese, an abundance of grey herons (spotted constantly throughout the day), blackheaded, common and herring gulls, kittiwakes, oystercatches, ringed plovers and shags.
We stopped to watch some seals playing just a little way from the shore.

Driving a little further on Richard stopped the car suddenly and we were rewarded with my only ever sighting of a couple of red deer. A fawn staring staring straight at us and his/her mother, rump towards us but neck arched all the way round so as to keep us in her sights.

We did manage to spot what I had come to see - but only right on the horizon. A pair of golden eagles soaring gracefully above the mountains disappearing in and out of the drizzly fog.

The highlights of the day came in the afternoon. We stopped the car to look for otters and it wasn't long before we were rewarded. A single otter, just metres away from the shore and the sun glistening on his wet fur, dived and dipped in and out of the water and emerged with a fish. He was so close I could hear him eating in the surrounding silence.

We watched him for a bit before heading on to another good place for sighting sea eagles. It was raining and Richard started scanning the trees where they often sit. And sure enough, there they were, a male and a female sitting a few trees apart, looking composed and haughty as the drizzle streamed off their feathers. The day was ended on a high after I spotted another of the eagles (or possibly one of the pair) flying quite close overhead with some sort of animal in its talons.

Funnily enough it was back on the mainland in beautiful Plockton two days later where I got to see a golden eagle up close. I went out on a seal trip with the jovial Calum and got a great view of the colonies we had come to see. But then, just as we looked to the horizon...was that a gull...a big gull? No, as it flew overhead we got to see the golden eagle in all its glory.

What a trip...and coming up shortly: South Africa!

Scotland: part 1

Image: the-owl-barn.com

Imagine looking through your binoculars at a red squirrel only to see a Great Spotted Woodpecker poke its head out from behind the squirrel. Two beasties I've never seen in one sighting! I was up in Scotland visiting the Osprey Centre near Aviemore in the Cairngorms.

I had been lucky to arrive just in time to see an osprey sitting on a tree at the far end of the reserve. It was there for 5 mins, long enough to get a good look through the telescope, before it rose up and soared over the building, giving us an even more magnificent view. 

The centre (closed now for winter) is a fantastic place to sit and watch literally dozens of different breeds of birds (and animals) feasting on the feeders. I suppose you could argue (and dedicated twitchers no doubt will) that it is a bit of a zoo, given that the birds are there for the feeders. But it is a fantastic place to see all sorts of birds in one go. As well as the osprey, red squirrel and woodpeckers I also saw greenfinches, chaffinches, coal tits, blue tits, great tits and robins. 

I learnt how to identify the different genders of great spotted woodpecker; the juvenile has a red cap on its head, the male has a red patch on the back of its head and - as usual - the female is a little more drab with no red patch.

I spent three days staying in the Grant Arms in Grantown-on-Spey, "the wildlife hotel", home to the Birdwatching and Wildlife Club. The club organises walks and tours and so on from the hotel, some you can do on foot from the hotel itself. I set off on a couple of hour hike with the club to the woods behind Grantown, where red squirrels are in abundance. The birds were in short supply that day unfortunately but the walk is beautiful and comes out at the maginificent River Spey. 

Taking advantage of the decent weather, having arrived - and left - just before the floods, I also spent an afternoon heading up to RSPB reserve at Udale Bay. The drive up there is beautiful, with sweeping views of the Cromarty Firth. The reserve ittself is 'blink and you could miss it'. One hide overlooking wetlands. But there is certainly no shortage of birds from oystercatchers, curlew and plover to teals and mallards. 

Further round the coast, a gorgeous spot to stop for tea and cake is Cromarty. From there it's short drive to Chanonry Point, the best spot in the area for dolphins apparently. I was unlucky that day - but hey, you can't have everything.

Struck gold...

Image by jvverde via Flickr

I saw my first goldfinch this morning. A pair of them; parent and juvenile. They were in the neighbours' garden, which says something for leaving your green patch as a bit (I'm being kind) of a jungle. Last night we harvested our first beautiful juicy green pepper and four whopping leeks, so I'm sticking with our tidy(ish) veg patch though, birds or not!

Warbling amongst the rushes

Reed warbler: Image via Wikipedia

It was a beautiful day today, the perfect weather to take my parents out for a stroll (well a bit of a hike as it turned out) around Rye Meads and then up the canal to Hertford.

Bar a couple of quick and gentle showers, we had the perfect weather to warm us throughout the day. We headed up the reserve's kingfisher trail, our hopes pinned on seeing the elusive bird in the hide at the end.

Tiny pale blue and larger deep red butterflies flitted between the bushes, heavy with ripe blackberries, that lined the path we were taking. The vast clumps of bullrushes showed evidence of having been visited by the birds as they swayed in the breeze, while blackbirds hopped in and out of the bushes as we ambled by.

The first two hides were a tad disappointing today; just a few coots and the odd duck or two. But when we got to the kingfisher hide, things instantly changed for the better. A beautiful, slightly scraggly grey heron sat on top of the water tap near the kingfisher hide preening its feathers, stretching its legs and yawning occasionally. The thick spread of algae on the water would make it difficult to spot fish; it didn't even seem interested.

After 20 minutes or so of spotting coots, terns and, for the first time in my case, reed warblers we were rewarded with what we had been waiting for. One of the kingfishers shot out of the nest hole, with something large and white in its beak (probably the faecal sac I was told). Ten minutes later he (or she?) returned, hovering with a blur of beating wings outside the nest hole for a few wonderful seconds.

As with all these things, the sighting was brief but very rewarding - and my parents were happy, which was the main aim. While we were in the hide, a few more people joined us, one with a lense about the length of my arm. I sensed they were getting slighlty annoyed when I accidentally dropped my rucksack on the floor with a bang and my dad was struggling with the zip on the binoculars' case, though neither had any effect on the birdlife outside. What is hide etiquette? Are you meant to remain hushed and try your best not to make a sound or is it generally acceptable to have a chatter and maybe a spot of lunch while you while away the time? Personally, I think as long as kids aren't running around screaming and people are not shouting across the hide at each other I'm happy - though of course there is something beautiful and unusual in pure silence.

The king of birds

Image by SteveB! via Flickr

A sense of anticipation hung in the air at the Kingfisher hide at Rye Meads yesterday. The half a dozen people in there exchanged whispers - and sandwiches - while glued to the sand bank a few metres across the water to our left. And then it happened in a flash - a kingfisher shot out of one of the holes, straight up and over the foliage across the water...and it was gone. The shutters went off but there was no chance of getting a picture.

We waited another ten minutes and were rewarded. Back through the same space came another kingfisher - the female, I was told, as she has a red beak, the male's is black. Happily, she landed on the the pole metres from the nest and sat there for a good ten seconds or so. It gave us all a good chance for photographs or in my case, just to get a close look through the binoculars at my very favourite bird.

I waited another half hour, all of us hoping she would come back out or that the male would return, but eventually I gave up.

The other hides were also fruitful. There were tufted ducks, coots with their chicks, a coromorant, a common tern, a flock of black-headed gulls and a grey heron that sat for a good hour at least on the top of a low tree by the water (I saw it on the way to the Kingfisher hide and the way back).

I'll be back to check on the kingfishers in a couple of weeks time.

Walkers spoonfed in Norfolk

PHOTO COURTESY OF BRENNAN MULROONEY

I would love to have been with the group of visitors on a guided walk at the Norfolk Wildlife Trust's Cley Marshes last week. The group were treated to the amazing sight of 12 spoonbills feeding together. This is the highest number recorded in a group since the Second World War when 17 were seen in 1940. 

Following the recent hot weather and lack of water (ha! well at least that was the case...), staff at the nature reserve opened an inlet pipe that runs water on to Pat's Pool. Stickleback fish - the 'genius' of the fish world - were sucked through the pipe, attracting the spoonbills. 

The colour rings on two of the spoonbills indicated that the birds were hatched in the Netherlands. One has been recorded as far north as Caerlaverock, Scotland and Cadiz in Spain, where it spent the winter. These same two birds have regularly been on the south west coast of England, showing the distances they travel. 

"It's not going to put your girlfriend in a coma is it?"

Image by gussifer | thecolorawesome.com via Flickr

Three things I have learnt of late.....

The amazing:
Once they are born, swifts can fly for up to four years without ever landing. I include the words 'up to' as although I swear this is what they said on Springwatch, a certain male close to me decided to check that particular fact out with 63336, who replied that it was two to three years. Yeah, whatever. Maybe that's just the lazy ones.

The bad
I was listening to Stephen Moss and Chris Watson on Radio 4 earlier presenting a programme about water birds. Apparently sailors used to kill kingfishers and hang them upside down because they belived they would then point in the direction of the wind. What the..?! A travesty!


The downright weird (but very amusing!)
Chris Packham is a cheeky little chap isn't he? According to two of my friend, L & D, who are big Morrissey fans, Packham spent the whole of Springwatch sneaking the glum ones' lyrics into his on-air patter. Check this out - it really is true. Particularly love the way Kate Humble appears to have no idea what he's on about except for her give away right at the end of the series when he gives her the flowers. Humble: "It's not going to put your girlfiend in a coma is it?" Packham: "No, some girls are bigger than others". Pure genius. Nice one Chris! Just choose a better musician next time....


I have been getting back to the books (and the web and the mags) to get up to scratch gradually on birds, wildlife and conservation related issues.
Thanks very, very much on that front to the wonderful ladies at the Wildlife Trusts who were good enough to take time out in their lunch hour to share some lovely sandwiches with me and talk about birds. We had a stroll round the beautiful Camley Street Natural Park, which I highly but reluctantly (sssssh! These things are best kept a secret. Or am I starting to display twitcher like tendencies?! See previous post) recommend if you haven't been already. They are about to embark on a project to encourage kingfishers to land nearby, which I await in eager anticipation.

I have also signed up to LearnBirds, which is a real beginner's tool but for me absolutely brilliant as I love studying, even if it is largely 'click and drag' bits of birds and listen to their songs! I was torn between learning via the books or online, but this is interactive so I think it will keep me engaged.

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Close encounter with a cormorant

Image via Wikipedia

It was a beautiful warm, slightly muggy evening last week when I nearly cycled into a tree. I spent too long staring at what I thought was a black bin bag hanging from a branch. On closer inspection (brought about by stumbling off bike trying not to end up in the river) I realised it was a cormorant. Just sitting there in the middle of town, keeping an eye on the river from its perch in the tree. It seemed oblivious to my fumbles with my bike just a few metres away. I swear there was a slightly weary look in its eye as it eventually turned its head to look at me as if to say: 'Yes, and, your are staring at me why exactly?" I picked up my wheels and made my exit.

On the domestic front I have been watching a wood pigeon make a nest in the tree at the end of our garden. Pigeons may not be the most fascinating birds but my interested in this particular specimen can be found in my determination to cry 'but I have!' to this age old question. Thanks Max Wurr for your slightly patronising but useful answer.

I have also made pals with a robin. He follows me when I dig in the garden and will come right up to my spade. I know they are not shy but this one is a really friendly chap. I am going to get some mealworm if I can and follow Simon King's tips on hand feeding them. He made it look quite easy, as though you just chatted to it a few times and it came to your hand for dinner. Surely not?! Anyone ever tried this - am I wasting my time in the summer when it already has lots of lovely grubs to feast on??

ps fellow bloggers, I have just started using Zemanta when I blog and, even for the technologically inept like me, it's a pretty nifty tool.

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Off the record: why twitching is as sad as they say

Not spotted: The Hermit Thrush

I was reading through a copy of Birdwatch earlier this week and I was shocked. Not by news of a rare bird but by a double page spread half way through the issue under the headline 'Off the record'.

The piece was written by Nigel Pepper, a birdwatcher from Essex, who in 1994 'found' a rare Hermit Thrush near his home. The find was submitted to, and accepted by, the Rarities Committee (which itself, appropriately for this story, sounds a lot like something that would not have been out of place in 1984).

The article is a confession; a confession 15 years later by Pepper that he had in fact made up the find. But why? What he recalls I find fascinating.

As he explains in the piece, he starting birdwatching in the 1980s as a "relaxing way to spend time". What started out as a harmless hobby gradually became more serious. Pepper received annual reports from the Essex Birdwatching Society and became increasingly frustrated about the birds that, despite being in his own county, he had missed. In his words: "The same finders' names cropped up time after time, belonging to an elite self-appointed circle of observers who had decided to keep this information private, while hypocritically using reports provided by other birders to attend twitches."

He goes on to say that Essex has been responsible for some of "the most outrageous episodes of suppression in the annals of British birding". He found himself ashamed of the county. He became increasingly angry and decided to "make a point". So he waited for the right time of year and conditions and 'found' a Hermit Thrush.

The episode has haunted him ever since, he says, as he has faced never-ending questions about his 'find' - and friendships with other birders have become strained. The article was Pepper's moment to 'fess up.

My feelings after reading this article were dismay and then something slightly short of anger. Birdwatching is one of those pastimes that many people regard as 'geeky', on the same level as train spotting or, say, metal detecting. I have always joked about it myself but at the same am always keen to set the record straight and point out that the fascination with birdwatching is in appreciating the world around us that we fail to notice enough in our every day life (I don't feel the same way about trains. Or metal.)

Programmes like Springwatch do much to promote this idea and have gone a long way in bringing wildlife watching to the masses (even if Chris Packham is a bit of a geek...).

So this idea of birders - or twitchers in this case (there is a distinct difference) - going around like bunches of immature teenagers 'suppressing' information about where they have watched a rare bird is frankly at best, sad, and at worst destructive of the ethos of bird watching. Seeing something amazing or unusal in the natural world should be shared with other people, not hidden. I strongly suspect that the idiots who do this look not unlike the stereotype of a trainspotter. I also suspect they are sad, lonely individuals who find themselves suddenly 'powerful' when part of, what is probably mainly, a 'boy's club' of other sad individuals.

I don't condone what Potter did. To be honest I couldn't really care less, except to say that it sounds like he has acted in just as sad a way as the people he is trying to 'make a point' to. And how it backfired. But what does bother me is that it puts people like me off from pursuing an interest I have always enjoyed.

I shall be avoiding the men, and women, in anoraks like the plague.

"Like a crane on steroids"

Pic: orientalbirdimages.org

I have joined some odd groups on Facebook, but perhaps none as odd as the Great Bustard Group. This strange looking bird, described by the man that has recently reintroduced it to Britain as "like a crane on steroids", has just hatched chicks in this country for the first time in 177 years. I'm following the Facebook group in hope of seeing updated pics of the birds as they grow. I was also interested to read that the white-tailed eagles I was so privileged to see on Mull last year, were also once extinct from this country and only reintroduced in the 1970s. I wonder what will be next?

Big Garden Birdwatch time!

Long-tailed tit: where for art thou? Photo: RSPB

I'm not sure if someone put something in the water near me over the weekend but all the swans seemed to have given birth at the same time. Two separate lady swans I see on the way to work were being followed by, in one case four, in the other five, signets this morning. 

In more important news today, the RSPB has launched its summer garden wildlife survey. This involves spending an hour this week writing counting the birds and any other wildlife that visit your garden. If anyone has done the RSPB's Big Garden Birdwatch, now in its 30th year, you'll get the gist of what is required. 

I've been doing Birdwatch for the last two years and I'm sure the feathered ones have conspired against me and hidden deliberately on those days. I've had to submit counts that total something like 'two blackbirds and a sparrow' or, worse, 'one wood pigeon'. Then you read the results and half the country have seen long-tailed tits in their gardens.

This year I won't be spotting bees. We recently knocked the shed down and found a bees nest underneath it - so the council are coming today to take them to a better place (a hive, not Heaven...).

First trip to the Hide

Image: Grey Heron, Cley, 6th August 2006 (Steve Gantlett). From Daukes Hide.

It was drizzly this morning and so I sat on my kitchen step, drinking my tea and watching the birds in the garden until it had stopped. I do this every morning before work. It's always blackbird central in our garden but today started particularly well because I saw a wren and a blue tit, two of my favourites, which I took to be a good omen before my first trip to The Hide. Then I saw a magpie but I didn't let that put me off.

I cycled to the hide, trying to avoid killing the eight million slugs that had come out post-rain. On the canal the coots were out in force. The first one I saw had three chicks, which make an incredible noise for small birds. Further along I spotted what I had been been dubbing 'evil ducks' but I have learnt today (my first lesson) that they are in fact tufted ducks. It's the yellow eyes I'm not keen on. Then I saw my first ducklings! Not ever, obviously. But the first ones this year. I can't understand why there are so many bloody ducks around this summer and never any ducklings. So that ticked a box.

Then it was Hide time. I got off my bike at the viewing point. There were birdwatchers there already - looking like birdwatchers. I chortled inwardly at their overly large waterpoofs, walking boots and enormous backpacks. I prided myself on not looking like one of them. Then I noticed my right trouser leg was still tucked into my sock from cycling: I looked like one of them.

I struggled to open the gate to get into the Hide, which was a bit embarrassing as I then had to pretend to be examining a sign near it when the Birdwatchers walked by so they wouldn't realise I wasn't a pro. Then I was in - and it was brilliant.

I couldn't believe how close I was to the birds - and I was the only one there. I watched one of my all time favourites, the grey heron (see pic) for quite some time. It was so peaceful. I was scribbling in my note book, my movements followed by some sort of moth and the only sounds coming from the birds outside.

I tried the next Hide. There were men with big lenses in there but I tried to act like I was a regular - except I couldn't get the flaps of the Hide open. They politely ignored that.

My spots for the day:

• at least a dozen cormorants
• three or four grey herons
• common terns, dipping and gliding over the water
  
• evil...oops, tufted ducks
• 2 x lapwings
• 2 x greylag geese
• a swan with four lovely fat fluffy signets
• hundreds of swifts catching insects on the wing (could be house martins...it's early days for my swallows v housemartins v swift identification)

Not bad for day one.