Norfolk Trip

On the journey across the flat lands of Norfolk on Saturday, I was struck by the number and size of flocks of Fieldfare still about with not a Redwing to be seen. They fitted in well with the flat grey skies which threatened much but delivered little. The best part of the journey was the last 10 miles, turning up two hunting Barn Owls, their ghostly images lightening up the gloom. The best view was at Little Snoring aerodrome which was just a couple of miles from where we were staying, but although we often checked here through the week, we didn't see it again (well not there anyway). In the evening the skies cleared and the bright one thrid moon promised a lovely sunny Sunday morning.
On Sunday we were greeted by flat grey skies again, this time dropping the tiniest of snowflakes. Provisions had to be bought for the week from the excellent Walsingham farm shop, and whilst the shopping list grew, so did the snowflakes. Proper snow. We had to get food or eat logs. We opted for the journey out and decided to go via Stiffkey freshes having heard there had been a twitch there on Friday. We got there but there were no birders to ask what we were looking for and decided not to stop in the by now even worse snow which made driving "interesting" (especially when it wasn't exactly clear what was and wasn't tarmac). However we did see several Red legged Partridge and over 100 Greylag Geese from the car. We got back safely with a few dinners worth of food and despondantly stared out at the snow. After lunch it stopped snowing, so rather than drive, we decided to walk out and see what we could see over the snow laden fields, as long as it wasn't white, we would probably see it.

 

We didn't see too much really but it was just nice to be out, a male Kestrel, Blue, Great, Coal and Long tailed Tits, Goldcrests, Pheasants and Collared Doves and a huge number of Woodpigeons which you can just make out over the trees in the next photo.

  

We ended the day with a quick drive up to the aerodrome to try and photgragh the Barn Owl, which I failed at, although we saw it well about halfway there. One thing the snow did help with was to show up the healthy population of hares a little more easily. Brown hares lying flat on brown soil are not always obvious.

Monday

One of the birds I really wanted to see in Norfolk was Snow Bunting. I haven't seen them for about 15 years when I last used to do a winter birding weekend here, and it was pleasing to hear they were in the self same area of Salthouse beach carpark. They weren't exactly difficult to find despite their winter plumage blending in well with the shingle. We had to stop and wait for them to move before we could even get into the carpark. When all together there were around 100 in the flock although it kept fracturing with small parties diappearing off to other spots on the shingle bank. The light wasn't great for photography but I had to have a few shots of these confiding and most endearing little fellows.

Also by the carpark were the equally confinding Turnstones, and a surprising drake Teal as well as the ever present Black-headed Gulls.

  

  

I managed to drag myself away from this charming spectacle with the promise of a few hours at Cley marshes a few minutes drive away...

Eyeworth Mandarins

I hadn't much room on my camera card left and I had stretched my legs in the woods after hearing what I was pretty sure was a Lesser spotted Woodpecker drumming not so very far from the path. I coudn't find it and it stopped not long after I headed towards it. I headed back and got some bread and seed to fulfill that age old amusement in feeding the ducks (Mallards) and Geese (Canada) and to see if anything other than the expected Marsh Tit, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Chaffinch and Nuthatches would come down to feed on the gateposts.
The Mallards and Mallard crosses followed me up to hoover up any spilt seed, but I didn't expect in the melee for the normally more timid Mandarins to fly straight onto the gate to give me my best ever views of these extraordinary creatures.
I'm just going to post the photos of this cacophony of colour and bizarre design that is the Mandarin Duck, they are beyond words.
 

 

 

  

I can't help thinking that the artist who first painted these birds would be a bit annoyed that he or she didn't varnish them better below the water line. However, criticism is a little futile, even unacceptable

  

  

  

 

What a fortuitous coincidence to find both Goosander and Mandarins on the same pond, both the most unlikely waterbirds to nest in holes in trees, and both fascinating and beautiful in different ways. What a lovely morning,

Eyeworth Goosanders

When I rolled up at Eyeworth yesterday morning, I was wondering whether the Goosanders would be there again or whether they would have moved on. Given the sunny but cold weather forecast which wasn't too far off, I wasn't too surprised to find some very large lenses indeed focussing over the pond. I sat in the car as a mobile hide as was de rigeur and watched, by coincidence, 21 Goosanders going about there business. I say by coincidence because this was the same number as I had seen previously, but this time there were 6 adult drakes, so they weren't all the same birds as previously. As last time, they generally stayed a little bit far away for my lens, I couldn't get the best spot, and I discovered photography envy for the first time. Actually thats an exaggeration, it wasn't the first time at all.
Within a few minutes I forgot all about that as I watched all sorts of things I hadn't seen before about Goosander behaviour, the generally good light affording really good views through binoculars.
Like a true ameteur, I took probably a hundred photographs, very few of which turned out how I thought they might.
The drakes performed textbook behaviour, raising their crests every time they passed eachother to form that ridiculously neanderthal profile which entertained me no end.

Sometimes they just seemed to put their crests up for no particular reason, which indeed, I might if I could.

The fishing didn't seem particularly coordinated on the whole, and yet more was going on than I understood as when one bird dived, it was frequently followed by other birds in the vicinity despite their seeming disinterest in such activities moments before. It didn't seem particularly pre-planned, but it did seem effective as I saw more catched made than on my previous visit. Catches usually induced quite an excitement around birds close to the successful fisher and lots of running away as quickly as possible, and rather hurried swallowing. All the fish caught that I could identify were Perch, and pretty fat ones considering the time of year, at between 8-16oz (guesstimate).

 

  

 

Although there was a lot of interaction going on between individuals, only some of which I was palpably aware of, one little scene quite astonished me was this sunken female that concerned me for around a minute.

 

After what seemed an age, a drake surfaced next to her, but she continued to remain submerged next to him

 

 before eventually paddling in toe behind in a less drowning, but equally reverential pose.

 

Within a few moments they split up and that was that. The drake didn't appear to have any response or interest in the procedures and I am left to guess what it was all about.

 

I hoped that at some point individuals may come a little closer, and just on odd occasions they did following dives in my direction and quick paddling away. They were few and far between and always drakes, but magical moments to me

 

 

Quite a magical morning with these secretive and shy birds, but it wasn't all over yet.

Harbridge revisited (again)

I had to be up at the crack of dawn this morning, actually, rather earlier, and having got my chore out of the way I decided to go early down to Harbridge to photograph the Great White Egret which was bound to be there. It was a beautiful morning, albeit frosty and I left full of optimism. When I arrived the steady northerly wind soon warned me to add hat and gloves to my existing layers and I stood around counting the 8 Bewick Swans which turned into 13, and 17 Greylag geese which turned into 8 as 9 flew off southwards.

 

Shortly afterwards, in the distance, while I was trying to turn some of the Greylags into Bean Geese, a flock of 69 of what I first thought were probably Lapwings but with binoculars proved to be Black Tailed Godwits wheeled around mesmerically and entertained me for a few seconds. My immiediate thought of Lapwings was probably just because I had seen a similar size flock here a couple of days ago and complacency slipped in. I'm blaming the numbing cold whatever anyone says.

After a short time (which seemed like a long time) I felt something behind me, you know that feeling of when there is something dangerous behind you and it won't go away unless you turn round and it isn't there? Like that, only without the dangerous. So of course I turned round, but on the other side of the road there was just a Mute Swan. I crossed the road anyway and WAIT.... is that an Egret behind the reeds??

Of course my sixth sense that had led me turn round told me it was the Great White Egret I'd come to look for. How fortuitous...

 

...It wasn't. Nevermind, Little Egrets are always good to see, I am always mindful that however great their success here over the last couple of decades, their failure could be no further away, and they should never be taken for granted. I watched it fly past very close and was felt grateful for the sight.

 

After a short while longer with nothing much else turning up, I decided I was too cold and would move on, During a short chat with a very nice woman (with binoculars) in a lorry who had parked up behind me, a male Kestrel found something of interest quite close, and despite a drop to the floor, came up with nothing. All that energy wasted!

 

  

  

 

I gave up after this and thought as it was still early, I'd head off to Eyeworth and see if the Goosanders were back, I will leave that until tomorrow though because I saw something which may be commonplace there, but I thought extraordinary.

Out and about - Eyeworth

I had to pop down to Poole today on a delivery run and as usual spent ten minutes on Hatch Pond just having a look, but nothing exciting other than a pair of Great crested Grebes displaying, mirroring each other perfectly in every single movement. I don't know how they do that, down to every single shake of the head, not a millisecond apart. Fabulous. On the drive back I decided to have yet another go at Harbridge for the Great White Egret and yet again didn't see one, though my disappointment was tempered by seeing Bewick Swans much closer there  than previously. Eight in total, four adults and four juveniles. The wind and frozen rain meant my limited time there was grateful and I headed homeward, but nagging on my mind was the thought of disappearing off the radar and taking a detour to Eyeworth. Which I did.
Until recent years Goosanders have been one of my bogey birds, ones I should have seen easily but somehow always missed. Suddenly I seem to see them everywhere and Eyeworth was no exception with no less than at least 21 there on what equates to a largish village pond in the New Forest.
I am told these are probably some of the flock from Blashford who just come to feed on the apparently fish rich pond but don't roost there, though I can't be certain. The time I spent there certainly confirmed they were largely busy fishing. Its not a huge pond but there is room for any wildfowl to remain difficult to photograph in dark grey conditions such as they were today, however, I did what I thought I could do and will leave the photos to speak for themselves.

Ok, I'm not entirely going to let them speak for themselves, I'm going to interrupt briefly. I've often wondered why diving ducks (I know they aren't ducks they are Sawbills, but they are still duck-like)) frequently seem to slope into the water towards the tail. I hope the next three pictures, particularly the last one, explain this to anyone looking as much as they do to me..

I hope the last picture shows quite what a downward force is exerted by the tail feathers which never totally leave the surface and wouldn't work if they were cocked up. I'm sure this isn't new to science, but its new to me, and sad as it maybe, made my day.

Cold

No. It has not been especially cold, indeed it has been near average temperatures for the time of year.
But I have one. Not an average temperature, but a cold. And largely it has stopped me going out for anything other than Lemsips.
Of course I have been looking out of the window and noting what has been going on with my feathered friends from time to time although not with a camera. I posted the above from a year or so ago in the back garden (taken with a compact camera) just because this morning I heard a thump on the window and some shrill squealing, so rushed out to the conservatory, opened the door, and nearly accidentally trod on a Sparrowhawk which in turn was treading rather more deliberately on a male Blackbird. It hopped off over the wall with its breakfast and I went back in to make a bacon sandwich and muse over the beauty and cruelty of nature. Hmm.
This was the closest I have been to a wild Sparrowhawk (a male this time as opposed to the female in the picture) although they are irregular but not infrequent visitors to my birdtable and its environs. What is interesting about their hunting habits here is that although I have on a couple of occasions seen them hit Collared doves over the stream (which is a bit like seeing an exocet missile hit a feather pillow with a very audible thud) nearly every time I have witnessed an attack it involves a collision, usually with a window, in which they do not always come off best. My guess is that as they close in on their prey in a chase, they reach a "lock" where it doesn't really matter how suicidal an attempt of the prey to escape is, they are going to hit it anyway. I have thought this before when years ago seeing a Blackbird flying over a hedge and straight at the side of a house with a male Sparrowhawk in close pursuit. A brilliant last second 90 degree turn by the Blackbird left the Sparrowhawk staring at a very fast approaching faceful of bricks and mortar which it just managed to bounce of lightly as it turned upwards a fraction too late.
I did the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch last weekend, in fact I did it on both saturday and sunday to see what the difference would be. As it turned out, it wasn't enormous, although differences in the two lists included Nuthatches, Treecreeper, Bullfinches, Black Headed Gulls, Crows, Magpies, Jackdaw and Great Spotted Woodpecker. I haven't as yet sent in either of these records in case any of species find themselves on an RSPB hit list.

Singing in the Rain

Some things can be disturbing in a nice way. One thing that is, is waking up at 6.30 on a cold, dark,  rainy January morning and hearing a Song Thrush singinging its heart out. Its actually been singing all day for several days now but I haven't hear it in the dark before. Maybe its because at this time of year, 6.30 only really occurs to me in the evening. As yet it only really seems to be Robins and Song Thrushes that have seen a sign of spring, I haven't, apart from daffodil leaves. Spring to me is when you suddenly realise you should have planted seeds a month ago.
There are some things missing here this month, no Bramblings have shown up here, the Blackcaps disappeared in November, there are no overwintering Chiffchaffs, no Redpoll flocks, very few Goldfinches, and the Siskin flock which appeared just before Christmas as it usually does has made no sign of reappearing from mid January (which it usually does). Maybe it is the unusual temperatures that has displaced things.
Talking of disappearing things, I am going to have to remove my record of Ruddy Duck in an earlier post as apparently nothing less than the total eradication of this species will do for the RSPB. It appears that around a handful of British based Ruddy Duck (perversely introduced by Sir Peter Scott)  have made it over to Spain to hybridise with the the internationally threatened White Headed Duck although the actual number of hybrids appear to be almost stastically irrelevent. A more important issue surely has to be how the White Headed Duck became internationally threatened in the first place, which I would suggest might be loss of habitat and a surplus of orange sauce in the fridges of gun toting personages.  Presumably were a feral White Headed Duck population to be released in Britain, the RSPB would quietly ask DEFRA to do a quick, unthorough and unscientific appraisal on its environmental impact and order their destruction lest they impact on the increasingly rare British Ruddy Duck population (now estimated 500 pairs from a previous high of 6000).
Much as I appreciate the RSPB has international status which it is keen to uphold, I rescinded my membership of the RSPB several years ago on their stance on this extremely contencious issue as well as what I perceived their stance to be on breeding Eagle Owls in Britain which may, or may not be from captive escapees rather than vagrants. To my mind, regardless of the semantics, if you set yourself up as a body promoting the protection of something, you don't promote the shooting of it.
End of.

Blashford (part2)

Yes more cormorants. Aren't they lovely. I find it terribly sad that our own over-fishing of offshore waters which has driven these entrepreneurial spirits to feed and breed on inland waters, has led to their persecution on certain fisheries. It has to be more environmentally sound than some banker from London taking a return helicopter ride to the banks of the river Test for an afternoons fly fishing..

Herons were also busy on Ivy lake, but not fishing anywhere close, although this one spent a little time ignoring a Cormorant which seemed to be saying "I want to be a Heron when I grow up"...  I don't think it actually was.

Eventually, another Heron flying past enticed this one away. I'm glad there were two of them because my bird in flight technique needs a deal of practice and despite bursts of umpteen shots, these were the only two that were even remotely in focus..

 

What else, oh yes, Gadwall. These ducks which I usually see from a distance as black bottomed, flat grey ducks were a pleasure to see reasonably close up, revealing the complexity of their plumage which usually remains a mystery. I'm not sure why this one has a brown patch on its head, is it a first winter male? I don't know. Something else to look up. I love Black Headed Gulls in winter, they always look like bald middle age men to me.

Last but not least I thought I would include the Canada Goose. Even typing that name transports me back to the Bourneville model yachting pool of my youth where there were plenty. Lovely creatures that we all take for granted.

 

and this one which looks like a Canada cross Barnacle Goose hybrid (I think)