One of the pleasures of bird watching is discovering and exploring new sites in our varied and beautiful countryside. One I recently read about was Thursley Common in Surrey which is an area of heathland, bog and bounded by mixed woodland. Various websites and birding blogs suggested the promise of a rewarding day's birding.
So with the forecast for New Years day suggesting a break from the pluvial inundation that has gripped 2012, I set off early. The day indeed dawned bright and I was granted a clear, if crisp, bright morning with very little wind; fine conditions for winter birding.
The common is a tranquil and picturesque spot and a sad reminder of how much of this crucial habitat has been lost in lowland England. The trees surrounding the car park were already alive with goldcrests, and assorted tits; and the adjacent moat held a number of Canada geese and a pair each of mallards and tufted duck.
A short walk along the boardwalk to the east brought quite a number of stonechats dressed in their winter plumage, but still delightfully brilliant, illuminated by the morning light.
Turning south, I happened across a small clump of pines from the top of which floated the mellifluous song of a smallish, brown, streaked bird, clearly visible at the peak of one tree, and intent on performing for all to hear. Now, I will freely admit (and repeatedly so) that certain groups of birds cause much confusion in the novice bird watcher. Families such as the gulls, the green & yellow warblers and winter-apparelled waders seem, to me, to contain many species who closely resemble each other. Separating them requires a keen eye and a broad knowledge of their idiosyncrasies to establish exactly which species is which. Included in these are the ubiquitous brown birds containing pipits, larks, and the like. However, on this occasion, the dulcet ballad of this bird left me in no doubt it was a woodlark. I had not seen one before and knew of it only from books, but what a minstrel, and one I would gladly travel to hear again and again.
From there I carried on to skirt round what I am given to understand is 'Shrike Hill'. I had recently read of reports of a Great Grey Shrike being seen at Thursley but I did not burden myself with expectations of, what for me, would be an exquisite and exotic find. But within five minutes of taking my leave of the lark, there, not thirty yards away, was the distinctive grey, black and white plumed 'butcher bird'. He stood out well against the sharp winter backdrop, and afforded glorious views by flitting from various perches in his territory. I was soon joined by a fellow watcher who too had never seen one before, and we observed for some time this intriguing winter visitor. I am fascinated by the origin of place names, and I would be keen to learn from anyone who may read my blog, whether the epithet of this mound is an ancient name reflecting a historical record of this bird's presence through the ages, or a more recent title given by bird watchers.
Eventually, as the shrike moved on, I did likewise and came upon a group of birders and photographers, many of who were looking for the bird I had just watched. By now I was in a small area of gorse and soon heard the scratchy call of a Dartford Warbler; a warbler that has the good grace to be of a distinctive and recognisable plumage. After a short search and a bit of patience two individuals came out to perch and show themselves well. A few of us enjoyed the show as they flitted and darted from bush to perch and back again.
So all in all a truly rewarding day and a delightful introduction to a place I would highly recommend. A superb start to my new year's birding.
Saturday, 5 January 2013
Sunday, 30 December 2012
Christmas Birding
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!).
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, 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)