Having finally been blessed with a break in the weather, I thought I would take the opportunity to get out and have a final amble for 2012. Having cooked and consumed some of our avian friends in the last few days I felt I should make amends by visiting some of their live cousins in the field. I'd hoped for a trip to the Kent or Suffolk coast but with the forecast suggesting wind speeds nearing triple figures I thought it more prudent to stay local. So a short drive brought me to a soggy but bright Amwell reserve.
The day started with the inaugural field test of my new scope carrier. A spotting scope is a truly rewarding piece of equipment and if one is settled in at a prime vantage point or in a hide, then they are a joy to have with you. However, for more mobile birding they can be cumbersome and hinder one's ability to catch flighty and mobile species with the bins whilst trying to park the scope on the ground. So for Christmas the memsahib bought me a scope sac. Having affixed my scope to the carrier at home before leaving it was memorable to see the colour drain from her cheeks and observe the sheer embarrassment she felt at seeing me model my new kit. She said little, but I deduced she longed for a boyfriend whose passion was driving formula one cars or piloting aircraft: a hobby where she would not be forced to swiftly draw the curtains for fear of the neighbours observing my apparel.
The main lake held a variety of waterfowl including some charming widgeon and shovelers amongst others. A good scour of the reeds did not reveal the water rail I had been privileged to see in the open some weeks before.
Having read of a bittern the day before I moved on to the hide opposite the pool, but a near-hypothermic stay revealed no bittern. However, I did observe in the distance above the wooded hill to the West at least eight soaring and wheeling buzzards. A splendid site against the light blue hue of the sky, and all the more remarkable when one considers that when I was a small boy, a buzzard in Hertfordshire would have been a rare sight indeed. I'm not sure what the collective noun for buzzards is (if there is one), but based on their recovery in recent years, a joy would be an appropriate one.
I concluded with a walk along Tumbling bay and was delighted to see at least two male and a female scaup. I haven't knowingly seen one of these before and, until I refreshed and improved my identification skills since getting back into birding, would previously have most likely written it off as a tufted duck. Which is all the more shaming as it doesn't have a tuft!! They afforded excellent views in the winter light, and through the scope their green tinged head and blueish bill were clearly visible.
A pleasant end to the year and I look forward to continuing my birding and posting in 2013. Happy new year to my community of followers of this blog (Sharon, mum; thanks!).
Sunday 30 December 2012
Sunday 9 December 2012
Smew's a pretty boy then!
Nearby Bramfield is Amwell gravel pits, a location I have only recently started to visit, and a pleasing mix of flooded pits, reedbeds, and woodland.
Upon arrival conversations overheard seemed to be concentrating on a Bittern seen the day before which seemed to be the goal of many there. It's another elusive bird and one I personally have only seen on two to three occasions previously. An extended period of observation from the view point and one of the hides produced no result but there was a lovely assemblage of gadwalls, tufted ducks, cormorants, and widgeon amongst others.
I then visited the larger of the two hides and within a couple of minutes was rewarded with the sight of a male and female Smew. These really are an enchanting species,and unlike many other bird species, the female is, I find, equally as pretty. The male was in his beautifully contrasting black and white plumage; the white being extremely useful in finding him between his regular and constant diving amongst the fronds and roots of the trees adjacent to the island they were exploring. His pied colouring stood out well against the dark water and he resembled a simple but exquisite line drawing in the midst of a darker, Autumnal backdrop. The female followed close, diving with equal compunction, but offering a fine view of the distinctive red-head and soft pastels of her feathers.
A beautiful waterfowl with almost an ornamental flourish.
Upon arrival conversations overheard seemed to be concentrating on a Bittern seen the day before which seemed to be the goal of many there. It's another elusive bird and one I personally have only seen on two to three occasions previously. An extended period of observation from the view point and one of the hides produced no result but there was a lovely assemblage of gadwalls, tufted ducks, cormorants, and widgeon amongst others.
I then visited the larger of the two hides and within a couple of minutes was rewarded with the sight of a male and female Smew. These really are an enchanting species,and unlike many other bird species, the female is, I find, equally as pretty. The male was in his beautifully contrasting black and white plumage; the white being extremely useful in finding him between his regular and constant diving amongst the fronds and roots of the trees adjacent to the island they were exploring. His pied colouring stood out well against the dark water and he resembled a simple but exquisite line drawing in the midst of a darker, Autumnal backdrop. The female followed close, diving with equal compunction, but offering a fine view of the distinctive red-head and soft pastels of her feathers.
A beautiful waterfowl with almost an ornamental flourish.
A Heavenly View!
The BirdGuides site had suggested that the elusive and enigmatic Hawfinch had been seen in the small village of Bramfield. It has been recorded on two or three different days recently up to Saturday afternoon. So I headed off at first light knowing full well that as I turned the key in my car they would be high-tailing to another county and this delightful bird would elude me as it had recently in Norfolk.
However, after keenly observing the trees in and around the churchyard I was more than rewarded with the winging of a flock of four of which three landed in the tops of the trees in the centre of the churchyard. They were a delightful sight with their shape and plumage easily discernible in the sharp morning light, and they lingered long enough for a close up view in the scope.
An absolute treat and I can understand why these are such a keenly sought after bird. The first of many encounters with these birds I hope.
However, after keenly observing the trees in and around the churchyard I was more than rewarded with the winging of a flock of four of which three landed in the tops of the trees in the centre of the churchyard. They were a delightful sight with their shape and plumage easily discernible in the sharp morning light, and they lingered long enough for a close up view in the scope.
An absolute treat and I can understand why these are such a keenly sought after bird. The first of many encounters with these birds I hope.
Prologue
Birdwatching and I have enjoyed, if that's the right term, an intermittent relationship from a very early age. A country upbringing, combined with a pair of birthday binoculars and regular weekend walks as a small boy led me to notice increasingly the small twittering creatures that inhabited the trees and hedges of my ramblings.
Looking for and observing these unfettered creatures increasingly gave more purpose to the pre-lunch ambles every Sunday, and eventually finding and seeing them became an end in itself. A pastime I understood to be called birdwatching.
I came to delight in seeing their myriad shapes, characteristics and, above all, their beauty. I enjoyed in the wild those that I saw, and marvelled at those, oft of a brighter hue, that inhabited the world further afield. My searching never took me far, I was not driven to extend my sightings to far flung parts of the world or, indeed, even the wilder, untamed domains of Hertfordshire in which I grew up. Rather I was content with the partridges and pipits, and buntings and tits of the woods and fields of home.
Alas, as my schooldays and teens drew to a close my relationship with birds waned. We saw less and less of each other, my passion subsided and eventually we parted. The binoculars remained in their case, the field guides unopened, and the country lanes untrod. I had discovered an alternate world of work, backpacking and other passions.
I did not stop altogether noticing the birdies; I would still marvel at various species I saw on my travels to parts of Africa, Europe and Asia, but they were incidental and an aside to me travelling.
Then middle age crept up like the thief of time it is and, as many men are, I was drawn back to interests of my childhood. An inexplicable desire came upon me to seek again the birds of wood and field, and after a few simple amblings I experienced again that innate pleasure in witnessing the antics, variety and simple beauty of British birdlife.
A lot has changed in those years since I last practised this hobby and much of it down to the web and the wealth of information available to birdwatchers professional and amateur. I have found and enjoyed a variety of sites and bloggers, and read with interest their stories and observations.So, this blog is simply to be my humble and personal reflection on my own amateur birdwatching efforts, and a modest record of sites and sightings I have enjoyed.
Please expect not reports of rare birds blown to our shores from faraway lands, or records of the discovery of a Siberian wiffle-waffle or some such exotica: I wouldn't know one if I saw one. My efforts will be modest and my achievements worse. For me the joy is in their beauty and being in their environment, not the tracking down and ticking of lists.
Nonetheless, I hope that some of my recordings may be as valuable to others as the more dedicated birdwatchers' experiences have been to me since I recently rekindled this passion.
Looking for and observing these unfettered creatures increasingly gave more purpose to the pre-lunch ambles every Sunday, and eventually finding and seeing them became an end in itself. A pastime I understood to be called birdwatching.
I came to delight in seeing their myriad shapes, characteristics and, above all, their beauty. I enjoyed in the wild those that I saw, and marvelled at those, oft of a brighter hue, that inhabited the world further afield. My searching never took me far, I was not driven to extend my sightings to far flung parts of the world or, indeed, even the wilder, untamed domains of Hertfordshire in which I grew up. Rather I was content with the partridges and pipits, and buntings and tits of the woods and fields of home.
Alas, as my schooldays and teens drew to a close my relationship with birds waned. We saw less and less of each other, my passion subsided and eventually we parted. The binoculars remained in their case, the field guides unopened, and the country lanes untrod. I had discovered an alternate world of work, backpacking and other passions.
I did not stop altogether noticing the birdies; I would still marvel at various species I saw on my travels to parts of Africa, Europe and Asia, but they were incidental and an aside to me travelling.
Then middle age crept up like the thief of time it is and, as many men are, I was drawn back to interests of my childhood. An inexplicable desire came upon me to seek again the birds of wood and field, and after a few simple amblings I experienced again that innate pleasure in witnessing the antics, variety and simple beauty of British birdlife.
A lot has changed in those years since I last practised this hobby and much of it down to the web and the wealth of information available to birdwatchers professional and amateur. I have found and enjoyed a variety of sites and bloggers, and read with interest their stories and observations.So, this blog is simply to be my humble and personal reflection on my own amateur birdwatching efforts, and a modest record of sites and sightings I have enjoyed.
Please expect not reports of rare birds blown to our shores from faraway lands, or records of the discovery of a Siberian wiffle-waffle or some such exotica: I wouldn't know one if I saw one. My efforts will be modest and my achievements worse. For me the joy is in their beauty and being in their environment, not the tracking down and ticking of lists.
Nonetheless, I hope that some of my recordings may be as valuable to others as the more dedicated birdwatchers' experiences have been to me since I recently rekindled this passion.
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