The Trip to Portland and South-west England: The First Day in the Portland and Dorset

It’s 5:55am, and I’m abruptly woken up by the sound of my phone alarm ringing loudly inches away from me, piercing my poor ears with its monotone, crescendo and repeated beeps. Not the most ideal of awakenings, I know, but at least it made me get up. As soon as the alarm sounded I pounced out of bed and started preparing to go into the Observatory; I don’t think I had ever been so eager to get up in my life. Such eagerness came from the prospect of being able to properly explore the whole of the Portland area and visit other nearby places, and possibly seeing some good spring migrants. I opened the curtains to find that the skies were clear; was this to be a good thing or not? The ideal of course would be to wake up to low lying dense fog, cloud or mist, but what did it mean at Portland if the skies were clear. Would all of the spring migrants there on the previous day still be there? Put it this way, I wasn’t as hopeful as I could have been, but I was still excited nonetheless and I knew that unpredictable was possible; as it always is when you’re birding. After getting dressed and wetting myself with cold water to help me regain my senses my Dad and I headed into the Observatory. We arrived to find a sizeable group of birders, some of which we had been acquainted with the previous day, looking out to see from the balcony, including the warden of the Observatory, Martin Cade. Upon seeing him we greeted, and he quickly told us that not a great deal had happened thus far that morning and that even though it was early days he had been around and noticed that a majority of the hundreds of Willow Warblers and Chiffchaffs that had been there the previous evening had moved on. This piece of information acted slightly as an ill omen for the rest of the day, as without bigger numbers of birds like Chiffchaff and Willow Warbler on passage the likelihood of something more noteworthy is not as reliable as it would be in conditions such as fog, mist etc. As I went out onto the veranda I looked out to see a breathtaking sunrise over the Dorset cliffs, which you can see in the picture below. I don’t think the picture quite matches the beauty of it, but you can see what I mean!

As I looked out to sea I quickly came to the conclusion that not a great deal was passing offshore, although there was a steady and fairly substantial passage of Common Scoters, flying in flocks of 3 or more. After a refreshing cuppa and some hobnobs, we decided to have a check of the Obs garden and go down to the Bill again as nothing of note was being seen from the Observatory itself. From Martin’s report I wasn’t expecting to see any signs of fall conditions. I was annoyingly correct in my expectations too, as despite a meticulous check of the Obs garden there were no signs of any of the scarcer species that had been present the previous day; not even any Redstarts. Maybe 20 each of Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff remained, but this was a significant decrease from yesterday’s numbers. One word was lingering in my mind, and that word, I thought, could well turn out to prophesise the rest of the day’s birding on Portland; quiet. What can one do though? Admittedly I was taken aback slightly by the sudden change from the previous evening (the change from definite signs of a fall and huge numbers of small birds, to very little indeed), but Portland is obviously one of those places that is dependent on certain winds and weather conditions for providing good birds. On the plus side, I was still very keen to explore other parts of the island, I could always go elsewhere and things could change. As I walked down to the Bill the atmosphere of the morning livened up a little as I discovered that the White Wagtail was still present, feeding busily with a few Pied Wagtails just a few paces away from the end of the huts round the Obs garden. As well as this I was delighted to come across 3 cracking male Wheatears flitting about on the rocks by the shore, their white rumps leaving me in a state of trance and allowing me to ID them instantly. These 3 birds were my first of the year and took the year list up to the big 150 mark. When we got to the Bill itself and had a look again out to sea much the same was passing, basically more Common Scoters plus a few Razorbills and Guillemots. Apart from that though, there really was very little happening, so we trudged back to the Observatory. Our entire walk and check of the Bill and the Obs garden took just over an hour, so by the time I returned to the Observatory it was coming on 8:00am. The sun was well up by now, shining high in the sky and casting an air of warmth on the area; it looked like it was going to be a lovely day. The atmosphere of the day birding wise remained negative though. Little did I know though that I was going to be in for a pleasant surprise when I got back into the Observatory...

I have to confess to being very hungry when I got back, and I decided to disregard birding for a while just so I could have some breakfast... toast had rarely felt as replenishing as it did then. Now for those who aren’t aware of this, a lot of ringing goes on in Portland, and every 20 minutes Peter will go around usually with a few visiting ringers and check if any birds have been caught in the nets. They leave the nets up from dawn till dusk, and anything that gets caught in them is taken out of the nets and is ringed (if the bird hasn’t been ringed already). Once ringed, if the bird is of the scarcer variety they will bring it up and show them to visitors in the hand, although sometimes I was told that they do bring up commoner migrants like Chiffchaffs, Willow Warblers, Whitethroats and Blackcaps. I was yet to see a bird in the nets or being taken up to the veranda, so when I noticed people getting off their seats and stopping staring out to seas and going towards Peter, I knew that something had been caught, ringed and was going to be shown to visitors. The question was which species? With me noticing this, I left my toast and hurriedly joined everyone on the veranda. As I did so I could see Peter walking towards us with a bird in his hand, from a distance looking like a Phyllosc. I wasn’t able to see quite where it was from that distance, but as he got closer I could see that it was far too small (minute) to be a Phyllosc and that it had a bright, orange crest. As he climbed the stairs I could see a whacking great supercilium... It was a male Firecrest!

Suddenly, the negative atmosphere had completely alleviated, giving way to intense and total joy. Peter proceeded to walk right to us, and everyone crowded round the bird. With a big group of people towering round it, the poor thing must have been scared out of its wits! It definitely looked as if it was, looking around the place nervously and cautiously, eyes wide and riddled with fear. I admit to feeling slightly sorry for it. It was a beautiful bird though, its intense orange crest mixing perfectly with its black eyestripe, grey down the side of it its face and broad white supercilium. The plumage was a fine mix of olivey, yellow and bright green. Just beautiful! I stared at it in sheer admiration for a couple of minutes, taking a couple of photos whilst I was at it. There was something really special about seeing it. It felt very rewarding in that I had finally seen a bogey bird long sought after, yet getting to see such an exquisite little passerine at such close range also added to the fantastic sense of the occasion. Was this lovely little bird going to act as a kick start to a successful holiday? I couldn’t be sure, but it was a memorable experience nonetheless seeing it, a moment I’ll think back on nostalgically in years to come... After giving everyone plenty of time to see and admire the bird, Peter let go if and it flitted into a far off bush. Peter told us that there is quite often a bird that sticks around in the Obs for a while during the early parts of spring, and this bird had been one they had already ringed. I returned to my toast very pleased, consuming the rest of it with great ease. I suddenly felt hugely much happier than I h3d been, and was keen to see what the rest of the day would hold. It was only 9:00am by the time we had finished eating and got ourselves fully prepared for the day ahead of us, although it felt like it could be 11:00am. It was turning into a lovely day, with the temperature already have risen at least a few degrees over double figures. I anticipated that it would get a lot hotter, which was good in one way but bad in another. It would be a pleasant change from the chilly weather of Aberdeen, but may not be good on the bird-front... My Dad and I spent another 20 minutes or so standing on the veranda to see if anything would be caught in the nets or if anything was passing through, but it was much the same as it had been before the Firecrest, very quiet. Peter did come up and show us a Chiffchaff, which was lovely at close range. I photographed this bird too. After seeing that nothing much was going on and having a discussion with Martin Cade about the Hoopoe that had been at Suckthumb Quarry, we decided we’d go up to Suckthumb Quarry and have a look for it. Martin had seen it on the Tuesday evening, but whether it was still there we would have to wait and see. Here are a few pictures I got of the Firecrest, plus a picture of the Chiffchaff and where Suckthumb Quarry is located in relation to the Isle of Portland.

You can’t see it on the map above, but Suckthumb is situated between the small communities of Weston and Southwell. The quarry itself mines the famous Portland Stone, a type of limestone mined only on the Isle of Portland that has been used since Roman times and is the stone to have built several famous buildings such as Buckingham Palace and St Pauls Cathedral in London. We had been told that Hoopoe had been favouring some fields on the very edge of the quarry, pecking around by some horse paddocks. We were given precise directions as to how to easily access these fields, and were there by 9:45am. Parking up just as the fields came into view, we got out of the car and proceeded to enter the quarry. I set up the scope and scanned the whole field as meticulously as I could whilst Dad scanned through the bins. A few Pied Wagtails were scuffling around, along with at least 5 Wheatears (2 females and 3 males), which was quite nice. The Hoopoe, however, was conspicuous by its absence. There just wasn’t one there. Hmm, what to do... The best thing was just to have a look around the whole quarry for it, plus check for anything else. The bushes looked ideal for catching a fall or a rare passerine, but it was by no means the right conditions for this. We trudged round the quarry, sweating as the heat of the day intensified, with no success. The best that Suckthumb Quarry had to offer bird-wise was those Wheatears plus 2 migrant Willow Warblers. I wasn’t surprised that we had failed to see the Hoopoe. After all it was bound to have moved on due to the lovely weather and clear skies. Having done this, we decided it would be most appropriate to head to Radipole Lake RSPB, not far as it was only in Weymouth. There had been an Alpine Swift around there a few days before. Plus, Portland was destined to be quiet all day with the sheer lack of migrants passing through. We didn’t plan to go towards the Poole Harbour until the next day, so birding locally seemed to be the best idea. A couple of pictures taken at Suckthumb Quarry are below.


It took surprisingly long to get from Suckthumb Quarry to Radipole Lake, with traffic acting as a constant hindrance to our birding time (WARNING: The traffic is terrible in Weymouth). It probably took around 25 minutes to half an hour to get there, plus time spent getting food for the day. When Radipole came into view I couldn’t help but think about how strange its location was, a lake fringed by dense reedbeds in the heart of hectic Weymouth; convenient for those living locally, definitely. On our arrival we paid at the car park, and headed off for a look around. The species I was most wanting to see here was Bearded Tit, a specialist bird to the reserve and a bird that is very hard to see here in NE Scotland (although they are just about annual at Loch of Strathbeg but very elusive). I was also looking for Reed Warbler (even though it was a bit early for them), yet another bird that you don’t get in North-East Scotland. I had seen both species on plenty of occasions before, but to see them both would be very useful on the year-list front. As we crossed the bridge to enter Radipole I couldn’t help but notice the escaped Hooded Merganser hanging around and feeding with the Mallards in its semi-tame fashion, and decided to photograph it just because it was an aesthetically pleasing creature. See below for a photo. If it only it was wild... hey?

Looking out from the other side of the bridge, there were a variety of species of commoner ducks, ranging from Shelduck to Gadwall, as well as a couple of Little Grebes and plenty of Black-headed Gulls. I quickly felt the need to get away from the general populous and thus headed onto the reserve quite quickly. It wasn’t long before we heard the explosive song of a Cetti’s Warbler, and it wouldn’t be the last time we’d hear it, as there were plenty around on the reserve. A Sedge Warbler was also singing nearby to where we had heard our first Cetti’s. It was rather pleasant walking around and being surrounded by reedbeds in the sunshine and hot weather, a far more tranquil scene than the hecticness of the car park. As we walked towards the North Hide I had fleeting views of at least 3 Cetti’s Warbler, with one individual briefly hanging onto a piece of reed very close to us before flitting out of view. A few more Sedge Warblers were singing and one was seen. However, despite meticulously searching for them, there weren’t any signs of Bearded Tits. I found this somewhat odd as I had the impression that there were a good number of Bearded Tits on the reserve. Furthermore, I hadn’t even heard any. On a couple of occasions we came to openings in the reedbeds and had a look for avifauna, but there was nothing apart from the same variety of wildfowl that we had seen earlier on. The word was once again staring me in the face - ‘Quiet’. Mind you, what do you expect? There is minimal wind, the skies are clear and it’s hot! When we finally reached the North Hide, which was quite a walk, we had a look out. After sitting there for 20 minutes we had seen much of the same, which was perfectly nice but was not enough to keep us fully occupied. As I sat there, staring out onto the reedbed fringed lake, I felt slightly soporific. The fact that I had only had around less than 8 hours that night was starting to tell on me, and I was feeling somewhat tired. As was my Dad, so we headed back to the car park to have something to eat and drink to fuel us up, yet again failing to hear or see any Bearded Tits. I now knew that seeing Bearded Tits at Radipole wasn’t as easy as I had originally thought. My overall impression of Radipole was that it was a nice reserve and could easily have potential when conditions were better; however it was a little too disturbed for my liking.

Lodmoor RSPB, where I visited next, was much the same habitat wise but was out the town more and was more peaceful than Radipole. It seemed generally prettier too, and come to think of it I didn’t see a single person, birder or non birder, on my visit to the reserve. Soon after arriving I was pleased to latch onto my second Little Egret of the year gliding across the reeds, always a nice sight. On the lake there were notable numbers of Canada Geese, as well as 6 Gadwalls. Lodmoor unfortunately but predictably proved quiet like Radipole and unable to produce any Bearded Tits, but was probably that little bit better on the day. The Little Egret was nice to see, and hearing a Water Rail was also a good bonus. Both locations were pleasant, but unfortunately lacking in good birds. It was lunchtime by the time we had visited and been round both Lodmoor and Radipole, and I decided, having received no texts from Simeon, that I might as well check Birdguides. In doing so I discovered that nothing had been reported in Dorset whatsoever, save Spoonbill at Middlebere, where I was planning to visit the following day. After having lunch, it was kind of a sense of what to do next. After all, there wasn’t anywhere locally that may be worth visiting and nothing had been reported. In the end, we decided to spend the afternoon down by Chesil Beach at Langton Herring, where a long stay Hoopoe had been. However, having missed out on one Hoopoe that day and because of the weather I wasn’t hopeful that I was going to see this bird at all, but why not have a check when you’ve got nothing else better to do, I thought to myself, even when there’s 99% chance it won’t be there? Here are a couple of pictures of Lodmoor and Radipole respectively.

Langton Herring itself is a beautiful little village, and to access where the Hoopoe was hanging around you have to park at the end of the village and walk down through rolling fields towards the coastguard’s cottages by the beach. The field that the Hoopoe had been favouring was in fact before you reach the coastguard’s cottages, on the edge of the only oil seed rape field in the area. It took us a little while to find where we were supposed to be going to get into the area, but with the help of a birder (who unsurprisingly said that he hadn’t seen it) we found out where to go and proceeded to walk down. The area itself was very scenic, the ideal place to spend a sunny afternoon. When we reached the rape field, we walked slowly down the edge of it, seeing if we could flush up anything orange. But no, it wasn’t to be, as I had expected. Once we had walked down the side of the whole field we came to a lagoon, situated in front of the beach. It held a few species of wildfowl, the commoner suspects and, on the more notable side, at least 6 Red-breasted Mergansers. A Little Egret also flew by. Yet again though, it was quiet. With the feeling of quietude and being soporific, my Dad and I couldn’t help but just sit there and relax for a while, admiring the beauty of the area. After a while we moved on, slowly wheeling round past the coastguard’s cottages and back up the track towards the car, with still no sign of the Hoopoe. Not that I felt at all disappointed though, I wasn’t expecting to see it by any means. From here we couldn’t really think of much else to do or anywhere else to go. It was nearing 4:30pm, and we were both feeling tired. We both agreed that we might as well go back to the Observatory. Below is a picture of Chesil Beach.

And we did return to the Observatory, to find out that nothing but a few more Chiffchaffs, Willow Warblers and Blackcaps had been ringed. Nothing new had been seen apart from that. Dad was more tired than me, and shortly after we arrived back he had a kip. I had a brief look around the Obs garden, but with little success, the best I could see being a few Chiffchaffs and Willow Warblers. At this point, I gave up for the day, and woke Dad up. We spent the rest of the day sitting in the Observatory chatting to other birders, and as it got dark, went to the local pub with one of the birders and the ringer Peter. Overall, a very quiet day, which was frankly rather disappointing, what with the fall on the previous day. However the Firecrest was lovely. Without that, it could have been even worse. Not the ideal start for the holiday, but there was room for improvement. The next day we would spend the day in Poole Harbour, which we hoped would prove more productive. Whether it would or not is a story yet to be told. For more on that, tune in to my next post.

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

The Trip to Portland and South-west England: Casual Somerset birding, the visit to Shapwick Heath/Ham Wall RPSB and the arrival at Portland

First things first, I apologise for not posting in so long! I've had to do a lot of exams at school recently and thus have been very busy. I am aware that this puts me way behind again and that I probably won't be up to date for a long time now, but I'll get there eventually! If you wish to know any more of my recent sightings keep up to date on the latest sightings part of the sidebar to the left of this post.

Birding was really at a minimum up until the 7th April, when I'd leave for Portland. From the 30th March till the 4th I stayed in Bristol with my grandparents, taking the one day out (1st April) to visit Chew Valley Lake, where I started the holiday superbly. On the evening of the 4th I headed westwards. My relatives have a cottage in a little village bordering the Exmoor National Park and we stay here annually (sometimes twice a year). This was the first time I had visited this year, and I was going down there to spend some time with my auntie, uncle and cousin. We would stay here for just a couple of days (5th-7th), and then head down to Portland. There are several nice countryside walks you can take near where the cottage is positioned, and on the 5th I found myself doing some casual but very pleasant birding whilst on a couple of hour or so walk. I managed to get very nice views of a Nuthatch, a bird which you don't get in North-east Scotland but I do see on most occasions that I'm down in England, as well as fleeting views of a Green Woodpecker that I tracked down when I heard it calling nearby, yet another bird which you don't see in North-east Scotland. The biggest surprise of all, however, was a Red Kite which my Dad first saw when he did a casual scan of the fields around us. This magnificent creature was in one of the closest fields to us, and rose suddenly to the air. There were a few buzzards circling nearby, and it looked positively longer-winged and bigger than them. It circled briefly, showing wonderfully, and then flew eastwards and out of sight. What was really significant about this sighting was the fact that, after nearly 20 years of my family staying in the same cottage and walking around the same countryside, this was our first Red Kite in the area; I had never seen any there in the past. This almost certainly suggests a recent arrival of Red Kites in the area, which is very good news. I reckon they're in very small numbers, but there may be a few pairs dotted through the area's countryside. So, this walk provided me with three useful yearticks. Later that day I was rewarded another new bird for the year in the form of a Tawny Owl that flew in front of the car as we returned from an evening's meal late on, which rounded off what was a surprisingly beneficial day, even though it wasn't intended to be a proper birding day.

One annoying thing about the place I was staying was that I couldn't get a signal and thus couldn't receive any texts (I had made a deal with young BF member Simeon that he would send me texts from Birdguides). It so happened in the end that Simeon couldn't text me updates anyway as he was busy, but I was keen to keep up to date with what was being seen in Somerset and Dorset. As a result I had to take a walk each evening to gain enough height to get a signal, and on top of that use up quite a bit of my credit to see what was around. I did manage to keep up to date, noting on paper any significant sightings from the abovementioned counties. I became quite excited at news of a Rose-coloured Starling seen in the centre of Weymouth (the closest town to Portland), but it turned out that this disappeared on the day before we would go. I also kept track on the two Hoopoes at Portland and Langton Herring. The Langton Herring bird was present on the final day before we'd head for Portland, but the Portland one hadn't been seen since the Monday. Apart from this, there wasn't anything over significant reported. However, I was becoming very excited. I couldn't wait to stay in the Observatory and discover what wonders Dorset birding would hold...

Then the day came, Wednesday 7th, possibly my most anticipated Wednesday ever! When I got up that morning I was raring to go, and we were away by 10:00am. Portland is probably just over 2 hours away from where we were staying, so there was no need to hurry straight there. I had planned in advance that we do a bit of birding on the way, suggesting to my Dad that we stop at Ham Wall RSPB and the adjacent Shapwick Heath NNR. The last time I had visited this reserve was July 2009 when I went in search of the long stay Little Bittern that was seen at Ham Wall RSPB. Unfortunately I failed to see the Little Bittern (missed it by 5 minutes!), but saw some fantastic marsh species including my first ever Bittern and Cetti's Warbler. It's a fantastic site, and I felt that it would be a crime not to visit it on the way. My Dad thus obliged, and we arrived there just before 11. When you park at the car park you have a choice of crossing the road and going east towards Glastonbury and Ham Wall or heading westwards into Shapwick and Meare Heath, Shapwick being the first area you reach. For the previous two days before our arrival there had been a Great White Egret at Meare Heath, so it seemed a reasonable idea to go and look for this as well as check both Shapwick Heath and Ham Wall. We were in vague hope that we may be in luck and see a Bittern as well, but of course this would be difficult. We wanted to head off towards Portland by around lunchtime so we had a couple of hours or so to spare. Thus we set off.

Like Ham Wall RSPB, Shapwick Heath was a marshland paradise. Everywhere you looked there were reedbeds and muddy pools, and a flooded scrape. This habitat is ideal for marshland specialities such as Cetti’s Warbler, Bittern and Marsh Harrier and for waders and wildfowl. As we viewed the scrape at Shapwick Heath we could constantly hear the rapid, staccato song of several Cetti’s Warblers reverberating the area and dominating the other warbler songs that could be heard. It seemed to be literally teeming with them. The other warbler that seemed particularly in abundance was that of the Blackcap, although Willow Warblers and Chiffchaffs were also singing a lot. Whilst we could hear this pleasant harmony of warblers, I was meanwhile having a look on the scrape at 51 fantastic summer plumaged Black-tailed Godwits. These beauties with their plumage mix of rufousy-orange and silvery grey were my first of the year, and a sure sign of spring. Whilst these Blackwits busily fed, several species of commoner duck including Shoveler and Pochard were also present on the lake. Whilst we stood on the scrape we asked a couple of birders if they had seen the Great White Egret today. Unfortunately the news was that it hadn’t been seen all day, but this didn’t surprise me too much as the sheer expanse of reedbeds gives the Egret plenty of space to hide! With the Egret not having been seen all day, we came to the conclusion that it was best not to go as far as Meare Heath and thus spent more time at Shapwick Heath. We were just about to move off towards Noah’s Hide, arguably the best hide on the reserve, when all of a sudden there was a cry from one of the birders viewing the scrape of:

“BITTERN!”

With this everyone that had been watching the scrape stopped what they were doing and looked to the skies. I too turned and looked up to see a magnificent Bittern gliding high above the reeds behind the scrape. This glorious create glided slowly away from the reeds behind the scrape, passing high right over my head, lowering as it passed the muddy pools and finally descending into the reeds behind the pools. This was a moment of pure magic as that was only my second Bittern ever and in comparison to the few seconds view of one rising above the reeds at Ham Wall the year before, the views were far more prolonged and at much closer quarters. I reckon it stayed in the air for about 45 seconds, which is quite impressive for a species that can be very elusive. As we left the scrape and continued towards Noah’s Hide, I felt as if I had been tinged with good fortune. I certainly didn’t expect to see one, that’s for sure. Shortly after this Bittern sighting I managed to hear and locate my first Sedge Warbler of the year which luckily was singing very close by. Arriving at Noah’s Hide nothing of great note was around, although at one point an impressive female Marsh Harrier was seen quartering the reeds, another new bird for the year. Plenty of common wildfowl species were present too. After about 20 minutes here we left, and due to no sightings of the Great White Egret, headed for Ham Wall. As we were walking back along the scrape and heading towards Ham Wall when I heard the most peculiar sound coming from the reeds. However, I didn’t fail to recognise it; there really was no mistaking it. It was extraordinarily low pitched, almost foghorn like ‘wooooomp’, heard just for a few seconds. I had just heard my first booming Bittern. I stood and listened in delight as it sung, and as it died down I couldn’t help but think what a bizarre but fantastic sound it was and how privileged I was to have heard one.

The walk to Ham Wall is quite a long one and can be tiring, but we were kept entertained by a few Cetti’s Warblers that showed themselves, my first two Little Egrets of the year at the first viewing point which was the same viewing point that I had seen my first ever Bittern and dipped on the Little Bittern, gorgeous views of a male Blackcap, good views of a Whitethroat (yet another year tick) and by the beauty of the commoner birds. By the time we had checked both Ham Wall and Shapwick Heath it was nearing lunchtime, just the time we were hoping to leave. I felt that I had real felt spring coming to life at these two reserves. Numerous species of warblers were in abundance and constantly singing, there was a decent flock of Blackwits, a Bittern was booming brilliantly and the first Marsh Harriers were quartering the reeds. It was a lovely thing to experience. Not only was it great in this way, but as a result of this visit my year list had now increased to 148 species when the initial target when I got back from Norfolk was 150 species. Not reaching this total by the end of the holiday would be virtually impossible, so I was now aiming for 160 species on my return to Aberdeen. I did manage to not see the Great White Egret, which was a bit annoying, but look at this way, I did get fantastic views of a Bittern in flight, and Bittern isn’t a species I normally expect to see! After a plain lunch, Dad then commenced the drive to one of the most southern points in Britain, Portland. Within a couple of hours I would be at the Portland Bird Observatory, where I’d be staying for 5 days. The time had now come... Here are some pictures taken from Shapwick Heath and Ham Wall RSPB.

As we drove out of Somerset and into Dorset I decided I would have a check of Birdguides in the event of anything notable being present en route to Portland. As I progressed through the long list of birds that had been seen that day, nothing caught my eye at first. However, about a quarter of the day something caught my eye that made me feel even more excited than I already was... Here was what the phone read:

“Pied Flycatcher – 1 male in the obs garden, as well as 2 Grasshopper Warblers, 12 Redstarts, 2 Firecrests and a Black Redstart. Also upwards of 200 Willow Warblers and 100 each of Chiffchaff and Blackcap”

A fall! Of course this fall had not producing any major rarities, but as a matter of fact it happened that a majority of my passerine migrant target species had been seen there today. With this news I was starting to feel that I may have a very nice start to the holiday, but would all these birds still be present, or just passing through? I was soon to find out... At 4:00pm we arrived in the bustling town of Weymouth, the closest place effectively to Portland. Now, for those that are unfamiliar with this area of Dorset, Portland is actually an island which is linked to the land and only by a causeway by the famous Chesil Beach, hence why Portland is accessible. Portland as an island is quite large, and the Bird Observatory is right on the tip. Here is a map of the island. Note that when I mention my explorations of different parts of the island, this map will crop again and the areas I am mentioning will be circled/cropped so you can get an idea exactly where they are in relation the island. You will see below that I have circled the Observatory’s position on the island and that it is incredibly to the southern-most tip, Portland Bill.

As we progressed up through the causeway into Portland and through the small community of Fortuneswell and Easton, we eventually turned a corner and all of a sudden we had alighted on verdant green fields and the Portland Bill Lighthouse. It was an exciting sensation seeing the Portland Bill Lighthouse come into view as I knew that not far from there stood the Bird Observatory lighthouse. After travelling through the little village of Weston we turned another corner and the Bird Observatory came into view. Within a minute or two we had arrived in the bird observatory car park and upon entering the lighthouse met a small, old man with some binoculars round his neck.

“Are you Joseph and Mr Nichols?” he asked kindly (I'm not giving the name of my Dad), “I’m Peter Morgan, the assistant warden and ringer here at Portland Bird Observatory, pleased to meet you.”

Peter told us where we would sleep during our stay, which unfortunately wasn’t the Lighthouse but a small annexe nearby. We duly put our luggage into our room, and then headed back into the Observatory for a small exploration. The living room in the observatory looks out onto the sea ‘obs garden’ as it known, an area of dense bush which is ideal for and hosts a majority of any passerine migrants passing through. A few birders sitting in the living room greeted us and we became acquainted to the adjacent kitchen. On the table in the living room we had a look at the day’s sightings, scrolled down a notebook. These sightings reflected that of the Birdguides report. Peter told us that plenty of people were out checking the Obs garden and advised that we have a look as migrant activity was still high. We agreed to this, and headed into the bush for our first exploration of the area and some early evening birding on what was a lovely sunny day. We aimed to start with a meticulous search in the obs garden, then heading down to Portland Bill and coming back round to the Observatory. To give you an idea of what the area looks like here are several pictures, including a picture of the Bird Observatory, a view from the balcony of the observatory onto the sea and the obs garden and the coastguards huts behind them, the obs quarry (which is just beside the obs garden), and a view down to the Bill lighthouse and a view of the obs garden from the very top of the lighthouse, where I went a couple of times a day to get a signal so as to receive texts about sightings from Simeon and others.

Upon entering the obs garden I could instantly see signs of the fall caused by the covering of cloud early in the morning. Almost every bush that we checked had at least one Chiffchaff or Willow Warbler; they were literally everywhere that you looked. I had never seen so many of them before in my life, and I revelled in the fact that these two species were so abundance. I would have said that Willow Warblers were the more plentiful of the two, yet again reflecting the Birdguides statistic of a 200+ total of this species. As well as watching these Phylloscs, we kept our eye out for those species that had been reported earlier in the day – Redstart, Black Redstart, Pied Flycatcher, Firecrest, and Grasshopper Warbler. Unfamiliarity with the Obs garden meant that if these birds were being seen in certain parts of the garden that we wouldn’t know where to go to find them, which frankly lessened our chances. As we wondered around the Obs garden without any real knowledge of our way round we continued to scour the bushes for anything that wasn’t a Phyllosc. Whenever we saw any sign of movement from any birds, I’d quickly latch on them but would normally find that they were Phylloscs. On one occasion, however, this wouldn’t be the case. Quite early on, as we came to a slight opening in the bushes I was keeping my eyes peeled when all of a sudden I saw a bright red flash of a passerine’s tail on the ground ahead of me. Eagerly, I got my bins on the bird, and to my delight had found a cracking female Redstart. I quickly alerted my Dad, but as he turned to look it flitted off the ground and dived into the nearest bush, leaving us both mesmerised by that iridescent red flash. The views were brief, but it was a good start to our search and took the year list up to 149 species. This sighting was also pleasing in the fact that I had regrettably managed to not see a Redstart in 2009 and that this year I had finally managed to catch up with this stunning species once again.

Unfortunately for us, things didn’t turn out as successfully as we thought they might in terms of seeing the scarcer species that had been present earlier in the day. Despite a full search of the garden (there weren’t any areas that we hadn’t covered even with the addition of the quarry) we could not find the male Pied Flycatcher, Firecrest or Grasshopper Warblers. It was fair to say that these species had either passed through or were keeping themselves very secretive, although for Pied Fly and Groppers the first of those factors was the most likely. We were however lucky to get a fleeting view of another Redstart briefly as we were heading to the western edge of the obs garden, although we didn’t get sufficient enough views of this bird to determine its sex. Also the sheer abundance of Chiffchaffs and Willow Warblers kept us well entertained. The walk from the obs garden to the Bill itself was about 10-15 minutes long, and on the way we were fortunate in coming across a White Wagtail amongst a small group of Pied Wagtails busily scuttling around the in the grass surrounding the huts. Of course, I couldn’t year tick this as it is merely a subspecies, but it was arguably a smarter and prettier equivalent to our Pied Wagtail and a nice bird to see. When we finally did arrive at the Bill we went behind the lighthouse and had a look out to sea. It was a remarkable experience looking out from here, as the Bill and Portland itself sticks out so far into the sea. This meant that any birds that were passing were often much closer than you would expect them to be. We didn’t expect much to be going past, and nothing much did, but it was just the fact that we were having a look out to sea from one of the most southernly tips in Britain that was so fulfilling. On the way to and from the Bill we had a look for the Black Redstart that had been reported early on the day on the rocky shoreline, but alas it wasn’t present.

Due to having to sort several things out such as getting the dinner and unpacking our stuff, when we returned to the Observatory we didn’t go out again that day. After doing these things, we sat in the lounge and got to know a few of the birders that were staying in the observatory, sharing a few birding experiences and commenting on how good the day had been until there was sunset and then darkness. At 9:30 we retired to bed, as we were going to get up very early the next morning. At Portland, it is always vital that you get up at sunrise as this is when you are most likely to catch the first migrants of the day arriving and migrant activity is at its peak. Sunrise in this case was around 6:00, so I set the alarm on my phone for 5:55. Whether my Dad and I were going to survive getting up at this time for 5 days straight, we didn’t know, but nonetheless I was eagerly anticipating what the next day would hold! I wasn’t too bothered that I had missed a few of the migrant species that had been seen that day, there was still 5 days to go! In my next entry you can read about how my first full day in Portland and Dorset went.

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

The Trip to Portland and South-west England: In Search of Rare Ducks at Chew Valley Lake

For some teenagers, holidays seem to be received with great joy but end up being a source of deep and intense boredom. The boredom occurs due to the general lacaidaiscal attitudes that some teenagers possess and the fact that they can't think of how to use their time. Of course, I am not referring to all teenagers. Some teenagers manage their time brilliantly and get the most out of their time off. On my Easter holidays I certainly wasn't bored. I was the exact opposite, I was fully occupied! Just a few days after I had seen my first Bewick's Swan and had spotted an Egyptian Goose in the Ythan area, it was time for my Dad and I to travel down to South-west England. I am often down that way to visit relatives, and on this occasion I was down there for that reason. Well, partly. The difference was with this trip down to the South-west was that as well as visiting relatives, I would be doing a lot of birding and staying at the Portland Bird Observatory, a place renowned for the multitude of migrating bird species it gets. I would be staying in the Observatory for 5 days (7th-12th April), which would maximise our chances of spring migrants. For a whole week before this, however, I'd be seeing relatives. So on the 30th March we travelled down to Edinburgh and took a flight from here to Bristol, where my grandparents live. We arrived at my grandparents' house that evening and would be with them until Sunday 4th April, when we'd travel to Exmoor to see my auntie, uncle and cousin. One day between these dates though my Dad had said to me that we could go birding on one of them. Now, there were two birds that enticed us to get out birding during one of the days we spent in Bristol. Both birds were at a place called Chew Valley Lake, a massive area of freshwater that is just outside Bristol. The fact that it was just outside Bristol meant that going there was a perfectly good idea. Not only that, but my Dad was very familiar with the lake due to him birding there a lot in his teenage days, so not going would seem a bit stupid. The two birds that had been seen regularly for at least two weeks prior to our arrival were a Lesser Scaup and a Ferruginous Duck, both of which I had never seen before. On my visit to the lake I hoped to see either one or both of these ducks. The question was, which day was I going to visit?


In the end it was decided that we would go to Chew Valley Lake on Thursday 1st April, so after a day of pleasant socialising with my grandparents we headed down in our Renault Megane hire car and were there by half eleven. I had visited Chew Valley Lake before back in 2005 but my memory of the place was blurred, so visiting it again was actually like visiting it for the first time. Chew Valley Lake is a semi-natural reservoir ten miles south of Bristol, and it's the largest lake in south-west England. Fringing the water are plentiful reedbeds, rolling green fields and several areas of decidious and conifer woodland, an ideal range of habitats for birds. The one downside is however that fishermen and sailors use the lake a lot and thus it doesn't possess the splendid isolation of a lot of birding spots. Access to the several viewpoints on the lake is achieved by car with a road going round the whole lake, but to go to the birding hides and maximise your chances of seeing good birds you need to get a birding permit, which you can obtain at Woodford Lodge on the north-western side of the Lake for a cheapish sum of £2.50 for adults and £1.50 for children under the age of 16. Being just under 16 meant that my Dad had to pay a sum of £4.00 to visit the hides for the day, which seemed perfectly reasonable. When arriving at Woodford Lodge we found the trees to be alive with the calls of birds. Several Chiffchaffs were singing, and I was fortunate enough to locate a Willow Warbler which was singing very close by, my second spring migrant of the year. Having obtained our permit, we were in the process of heading southwards towards Heron's Green Bay when, as I looked out onto the water I spotted a large group of hirundines flying low over the lake. Getting my bins on them, I found out they were mostly Sand Martins, but with a good number of Swallows amongst them too. All of a sudden, I had seen 3 new species of spring migrant for the year within the space of a few minutes. The fact that this had happened so quickly instantly suggested to me that England was a couple of weeks ahead in its transition into spring, as I hadn't seen or heard any of those three species wheh in search of early spring migrants a week earlier at Girdleness. It really did seem comparatively spring like. So, having been nicely acquainted with 3 spring migrants in quick succession we headed to Heron's Green Bay as planned. I don't suspect you will know the route that I'm taking as a reader, so here is a link to a map of Chew Valley Lake (http://www.cvlbirding.co.uk/birdingmap.html). I reccomend that you look at it so as not to be confused when I'm mentioning places on the lake that I'm visiting. The plan was to do a full circle of the lake, spending most of our time between Moreton Point and Stratford Bay as it was between these two places that both the Lesser Scaup and the Ferruginous Duck had been seen the most.



Within a few minutes of leaving Woodford Lodge we arrived at Heron's Green Bay, which had a fantastic view onto the lake. From here several species of duck could be seen with Goldeneye, Pochard, Shoveler, Teal and other commoner suspects present in good numbers, as well as good numbers of fine summer plumaged Great-crested Grebes and two Little Grebes. A Blackcap was heard calling from here but wasn't seen, as well as several Chiffchaffs and a couple of Willow Warblers. Also plenty of Sand Martins and Swallows continued to circle the Lake. Apart from this, however, it was relatively quiet at Heron's Green Bay so we headed down to our next stop at Moreton Point to visit a hide looking out from there. Here is a picture taken from Heron's Green Bay:


It was a small hop down to Moreton Point, but finding the hide here proved quite difficult. We presumed there would be a small turn off for it. There was, but first time round we somehow managed to miss it. In realisation, we turned back and due to more focus we soon found a small turn off down a track which said: to Moreton Hide. As we travelled down the track, my Dad noticed a large corvid sitting on top of a dead tree. Getting our bins onto it, we discovered that it was a Raven, being way to thick billed and bulky for a commoner crow and my first one of the year. Shortly after this unexpected encounter, we reached the small car park and found the hide with relative ease, which to our surprise was empty. Opening up the shutters, we quickly found a group of Tufted Ducks about 50ft away from us, and set out to scan them for one of the rarer ducks that we were pursuing. Almost every duck was a Tufted Duck except one small, grey backed and non-tufted individual. There it was, the Lesser Scaup! You couldn't mistake it. It was way too small for a Greater Scaup and was even smaller than the Tufted Ducks that it was beside. Checking birdguides we found that it hadn't been reported thus far, so I put it in at speed. As well as being told by its small sized, this cracking drake Lesser Scaup also had a small crest-like crown peaked at the rear of its head and darker which lacks on a Greater Scaup and a coarser, darker grey vermiculation than its commoner cousin. It showed absolutely superbly, feeding and drifting casually with the 20 Tufties that it was with and diving every few minutes. I noticed a lot of the time that it had a habit of hanging its head very low and close to the water, which a Greater Scaup rarely does. Even when it did straighten itself up, it was visibly smaller than the Tufties. The other thing that struck me about this bird was that it spent quite a lot of the time hanging around with a female Tufted Duck, and at one point tried to peck at her as if it were attracted to her. It seemed to me that it almost thought it was a Tufted Duck or that it was with a group of Lesser Scaups, as if it wasn't aware that it was a different species from the others. As the Tufted Duck group moved, it moved, and the closest the flock got was around 35ft from the hide. Even at a further distance I managed to get some ok photos of it. It was fantastic to see this Lesser Scaup, as the views were ideal and also it seemed that we were the first people to have come across it that day. Here are a few pictures that I got of this beauty of a bird and a view out from Moreton Hide (note that in every picture the Lesser Scaup is the smallest bird):


After about 15 minutes of watching the Lesser Scaup we were joined in the hide by a few of the local birders who were happy to know that it was still around. We watched it with them for another half an hour or so, enjoying very nice views of it. Whilst the locals were there we asked them to tells us how to get to the nearby Stratford Hide (which looks out over Stratford Bay), and after 3 quarters of an hour of watching the Lesser Scaup we decided that we were going to go there. At the same time we found out that no-one had seen the Ferruginous Duck there, but hope wasn't lost as it could still be anywhere on the Lake. After a nice walk in the sunny weather, we arrived at Stratford Hide. It was a perfectly placed hide, sticking some way out into water (hence why there was a boardwalk to it) and allowed for fantastic views of the wildfowl. Tufted Ducks, Great-crested Grebes, Coots and Pochards all came with no more than 12ft of the hide. It was great to see them all so close up without even having to use binoculars. As the birders at Moreton Hide had said, there was no Ferruginous Duck amongst the multitude of common duck species, but it was nice to just sit there for quarter of an hour having a late lunch looking out across the Lake and watching the wildfowl come very close to me. Once we had finished our lunch, we walked back to where we'd parked the car near Moreton Hide and headed to the next place along, Herriot's Pool. Here is a picture of Chew Valley Lake taken from Stratford Hide:

Herriott's Pool is a medium-sized pool situated just behind the Stratford Bay viewpoint, and is where the Ferruginous Duck is often seen. Yet again, there was massive variety of the common ducks, but no Ferruginous Duck to be seen. It seemed like the Ferruginous Duck was going to elude us now. However, Herriott's Pool had a bit more to offer than Stratford Bay and Heron's Green Bay. As my Dad and I were busy scanning the pool for any sign of the Ferruginous Duck, we heard a loud, warbler-like call from the reedbeds behind it. It was the unmistakable call of a Cetti's Warbler. The call had come from very close by, so in response to it calling my Dad and I tried to locate it. Most of the time these warblers are elusive little critters, but persistence managed to pay off after about a minute of staring fixatedly at the reedbeds when I saw the Cetti's Warbler fly across the reeds for a few seconds. It then proceeded to vanish from view and called again. I felt relieved and touched by luck to see the Cetti's Warbler as not only are they elusive but you don't get them in Scotland at all, so this was a valuable year tick. In fact, it was only the second bird ever that I had managed to see in Britain.

By the time we had checked Herriott's Pool it was getting towards late afternoon and we had agreed with my grandparents that we were going to be back early in the evening. This meant we only had time to check one more part of the Lake, namely the East Shore, where we took a walk to the Bernard King Hide. The East Shore was the most densley wooded part of the Lake, and we had to pass through quite a lot of woodland to get the Bernard King Hide. On the way to the hide I managed to see my first Blackcap of the year, a fine male that made its presence known by calling nearby and then was seen on the top of a tree. Also on the walk to the hide several Willow Warblers were seen and up to 5 Cetti's Warblers were heard calling in the reedbeds. Masses of other birds filled the woods with melodic song, which was lovely to hear and a certain sign of spring. The walk to Bernard King Hide was quite long, and in the end didn't provide too much unfortunately. The best birds were a pair of Goosanders, the first we had seen on the lake.

It was 5:00pm when we returned from our walk to the Bernard King Hide and back. It was time went back to Bristol. It had been a lovely days birding. Not only had I seen one of the rare ducks that I was hoping to see and had great views of it, but I really enjoyed visiting Chew Valley Lake, getting up close to the commoner species and feeling the signs of spring. With Willow Warbler, Sand Martin, Swallow, Lesser Scaup, Raven, Cetti's Warbler and Blackcap all new birds for the year, my year list was now on 138 species. I couldn't have hoped for a more ideal way to start my holiday. So, Chew Valley Lake had turned out to be pretty successful. What next? Where next? That is what I'll be accounting in my next blog post.

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

In Search of Early Spring Migrants and Bogey Birds

Ok, ok.... I know I said I wouldn't post again until after I get back from Portland. Afraid not! For a couple of reasons I found myself casually lured to get out birding. Firstly, a period of nasty, misty weather had brought in the first spring migrants at Girdleness. These included Chffichaff, Blackcap and Wheatear, and most notably a Black Redstart. Secondly, there had been a Bewick's Swan seen at the Ythan, which has always been my worst bogey bird and is a rare sight in Scotland. I mean, if you have your worst bogey bird present only 10 miles north of where you live and have some early spring migrants just outside town, what else are you going to do but go out and have a look? So on Friday afternoon after school, I headed down to Girdleness in search of spring migrants. We started our search by checking the Battery, where Mark Lewis had originally seen the Black Redstart which I mentioned. We gave the area a thorough check, but there was no sign of a Black Redstart nor any migrants.

Thinking methodically, my Dad and I decided that the best idea would be to have a walk across from the Battery towards the sycamore tree (nearer the Harbour for those that aren't Aberdeenshire birders). After all, the area is thick with bushes that would likely shelter migrants from the bitter wind and intermittent light rain. I have also seen Black Redstart at Girdleness before, and at the time I saw the bird in the past it was on the rocks which this walk goes past. The walk is of a fairly reasonable length and allows for a thorough check of half of Girdleness for any birds that may be present, so I constantly kept my eyes peeled on the bushes for any passerine that decided to show themselves. Satisfyingly, a passerine showed itself shortly after I started walking - my first Chiffchaff of the year and first spring migrant of the year, showing well. This was later followed by another Chiffchaff towards the sycamore. Besides these Chiffchaffs however, I didn't see any other notable spring migrants with the Black Redstart proving elusive and thus far no Wheatears. By the time I returned from the walk it was about quarter past five, which left me without an hour and a bit to check the rest of the Ness. From the Battery I headed to Walker Park in search of my first Wheatears of the year. There had been some seen here earlier in the day, but when I gave it a careful scan I could see nothing but a Meadow Pipit and an Oystercatcher on here. A look out at sea proved very little save a few Kittiwakes (my first of the year), and checking the rocks between the foghorn which I seawatch at and Nigg Bay there was no Wheatears either. They must have been passing through, presumably. At Nigg Bay there was little to report either, despite a Snow Bunting having been seen for the previous two days there. There was a Kestrel here and a singing Song Thrush though. Overall the early spring migrants that had been seen earlier in the day had proved annoyingly difficult to find. On the positive side though I had seen my first Chiffchaffs and Kittiwakes of the year, which was a sign of spring and meant my year list had increased to 129 species.

Now I only had yesterday (Saturday) morning to search for the Bewick's Swan at the Ythan. Ken Hall had reported it on Wednesday, saying that it was in a field between Waulkmill Hide and the Collieston crossroads with a juvenile Whooper Swan. Whether it was still there or not was for us to find out, so at quarter past 9 we headed to the Ythan. We arrived roughly at quarter to ten, and instead of checking the estuary first we went straight up to check if the Bewick's Swan and the juvenile Whooper which it had been with were in any of the fields viewable on the road down from the Collieston crossroads to Waulkmill. Half way towards Waulkmill there were no signs of any Swans whatsoever and I was starting to think that it had maybe moved off. But I was in luck. About 3/4 of the way there though I spotted two Swans at the back of theclosest field to the car at the time. The car came to an abrupt halt as I exclaimed that I had thought I had found it, and looking through the bins I could see a juvenile Whooper Swan and beside it an adult swan that was visibly smaller. I had found the Bewick's Swan. As I locked onto it I felt a real sense of relief. I had finally set my eyes on what had been the most embaressing species that I hadn't seen before. There was no mistaking this fantastic bird, as it seemed quite a bit smaller and wasn't standing as tall as its commoner cousin , even though the Whooper was a juvenile. It was so easy to compare too. I could visibly see that it had a much shorter and thicker neck than the Whooper, with the Whooper Swan's neck seeming positively thin and very long. As well as this, I also noted that the yellow on the bill was far less extensive and more contrasting than on the Whooper Swan, whilst the black was more extensive (just the opposite to Whooper which has more yellow on the bill). The views were ideal for the aforementioned comparisons, with the birds probably at most 50 yards away from us in absolutely excellent light conditions. The two Swans seemed perfectly happy hanging around together; it was as if they were oblivious to the fact that they were a different species. They spent a majority of their time meandering round the field, stopping frequently to feed or in reaction to any sounds they had heard. We watched them for about 20 minutes, then decided to move on. I felt very happy that I had seen the Bewick's Swan, as not only was it relieving to 'clean up' on what was my worst bogey bird but the views of it were top quality. Here are a couple of distant photos I got of the two birds plus a picture of the field it was in. I think the first one shows the comparison in size particularly well (it is the bird on the right in both pictures).

From here we headed to Meikle Loch, where frankly I didn't expect to see much. I was wrong in my prejudgement. Shortly after we arrived a flurry of wildfowl took to the air. Amongst them I spotted ia big, sandy coloured bird with hugely prominent white wing bars. My initial reaction was 'What the hell?!', but I soon regained my senses and discovered what species I was seeing. It was an Egyptian Goose. It was sort of extraordinary when I latched onto this bird, as I have never seen one in Aberdeenshire before, let alone on the Ythan Estuary or Meikle Loch. There was no mistaking it, and was too big/sandy coloured for it to be the other wildfowl species that has prominent white wing bars - Ruddy Shelduck. It's head was also too pale for Ruddy Shelduck and I could see a shade of green towards the wing. Annoyingly, it flew some way from its originally location on the Loch and landed in the fields behind. Here it annoyingly went of view. However, a few minutes later it flew back onto the Loch, sticking at the very back. This meant views weren't all that satisfactory, but through the scope you could easily see that it was an Egyptian Goose. It stayed near the back of the Loch for another few minutes and then flew off completely, heading south-east. What a strange bird to see! When it had disappeared, my mind puzzled as to why this bird was in North-east Scotland and of its origins. Was it a bird that was part of the established stronghold of Egyptian Geese in southern England and had migrated up to Scotland? Was it an escape? I doubted the latter, as it was incredibly flighty and only stayed on the Loch for about 10 minutes. Later that day I reported the bird on Birdguides and Birdforum and my Dad on ABZ Rare Birds. Just today, I got a response from an aberdeenshire birder on Birdforum who told me that the only other record of Egyptian Goose in North-east Scotland ever was a bird at New Deer in 2009. He told me that this possible made the sighting very significant, which makes me feel quite excited. On the other hand, he did mention that it is hard to know whether the credentials of such a bird would be suitable for one of the birds from the established strongholds in Norfolk and southern England. Having checked Birdguides I have noticed that an Egyptian Goose was seen last week in Shetland, so I'm half inclined to think that it may be the same bird that was seen in Shetland. However, it could also be one of the birds from a small stronghold in the Gosford Estate, Lothian. These are just possibilities. Its actual origins still remain clouded in ambiguity... My Dad and I aren't the only people to have seen it, as one person reported that it was seen on the Estuary itself an hour and a half after we'd seen it fly off. It hasn't been seen since, as far as I'm aware. An interesting one... I did year tick it, which now means that my year list is on 131 species.

From Meikle Loch we headed to Collieston where we stopped briefly for a look out at sea. There wasn't too much going past at all apart from a few Fulmars, some Guillemots, a couple of Gannets and a Kittiwake. The rocks by the sea there regularly provide Wheatears, but there were none there when I looked. From here, we went on a walk from the car park at the north end of the Ythan Estuary and into the Forvie National Nature Reserve, an area of coastal moorland which can provide migrants and the like. Unfortunately there were no migrants present here, but the area wasn't completely devoid of birds. Dozens of Skylarks and Meadow Pipits were singing and taking to the thermals of the area. It was a lovely to see them enjoying the early spring sun. Because the weather was so nice, I thought it would be a good idea to take a few pictures at Collieston and the Ythan. The first two are from Collieston, whilst the latter is a view looking west from Forvie.

Now that really is all I'm going to post in here until I get back from Portland! I hope I have a lot to report to you, as I'll be going to several places in Dorset, Hampshire and on the first part of my holiday, Somerset. Before I go to Portland I'm going to be spending a week in Somerset with family. On one day (maybe next Saturday) I hope to go to Chew Valley Lake, where Ferruginous Duck and Lesser Scaup have been seen recently, and on the other day I hope to go to Ham Wall/Shapwick Heath where a Great White Egret has been seen recently. When staying in Portland it is likely that I'll spend quite a bit of time in the areas round the observatory, but I will almost certainly visit places like Ferrybridge, Portland and Poole Harbour, Arne RSPB, Radipole Lake and Lodmoor RSPB. I may also visit places in Hampshire if Portland is quite quiet (for example Blashford Lakes). I have got my target birds for the trip, but I won't mention these to you until I get back. Anyhow, I'm leaving for England on Tuesday. I'm immensely looking forward to staying in Portland, and hopefully will enjoy reporting back my trip in here.

Thanks for reading and happy birding,

Joseph

A March Weekend's birding (20th-21st)

This weekend just passed I decided that I should get out birding again. After all late March is just the time that the first spring migrants arrive on the coast, so what better than to give the 3 local patches a check? We chose the Saturday to do this, but reports on Birdforum from Mark (Fat Paul Scholes) and Andrew Whitehouse’s weekly patrols round Girdleness were not seeming hopeful on the migrant front, with neither them reporting of any migrant activity. Furthermore there were no reports of any migrants from elsewhere in the county on either the local ABZ Rare Birds service or Birdguides, so the chances of Wheatear, Sand Martin and the like being seen was minimal. And it proved to be at Girdleness, which was very quiet. A walk from the sycamore to the Torry Battery and back proved unfruitful, with a few Robins, Pied Wagtails and Blackbirds being the only birds on this walk. Walker Park, a place that regularly holds Wheatears, had nothing in it at all save a couple of Rock Pipits, and the sea was too still for anything to be seen but a few Guillemots passing by. However, there were definitely signs of spring at the Ness, with the songs of Skylarks filling the air. Not only that, but it generally seemed a lot warmer too. A stop at the Ythan also proved very quiet with a scattering of wildfowl and waders such as Mute Swan, Wigeon, Goldeneye, Shelduck, Redshank and Curlew present in good numbers, but not much else.

It’s just before midday, and I’ve already checked two of my three patches. There was still a possible 4-5 hours birding before sundown, but there was little point in birding for more than a couple of hours longer. Arriving at Strathbeg, we were greeted by one of the wardens. As always, we asked him what was about. From the sombre tone of the post thus far, you can probably guess what he said.

“There isn’t too much about today really, but still a nice variety of the common species.”

He was right to think as he did. There really was not much from the Visitor Centre at all, just really those species that we had seen on the Ythan plus a few Herons, Moorhens and what not. A Peregrine, however, was seen sitting distantly in the fields behind the pools. The Pink-footed Goose flock could just be seen through the scope towards the north of the reserve as well. It’s always worth it having a check through the goose flock, so after what was a brief stop at the Visitor Centre we made our way to Fen Hide to have a proper look at the geese. Arriving there we found a nice assortment of the commoner wildfowl, with a few Pochards amongst the copious Wigeons and Tufted Ducks. There were a few Goldeneyes present too, and I particularly enjoyed watching them. There were 3 individuals very close to the hide, consisting of 2 males and a female. It was a fascinating and beguiling sight to watch these 3 individuals as the two males were displaying to the females, both of them tossing their head back such a great distance that it nearly reached their backs and then stretching their necks up with their bill pointing upwards. I have seen this before on several occasions, but it was particularly good to watch it today as the Goldeneyes were no more than 25ft from the hide and I was looking at them through the scope. Looking through the geese we found 9 Barnacle Geese amongst the numerically superior Pinkfeets (c.400 birds). 121 was also a splendid number, and I presume pre-migratory gathering, of Whooper Swans. We sat in Fen Hide for over an hour, just enjoying watching the common species. Yet at the same time I felt that there was a sort of soporific calm and a general languor to the occasion. When there is little of note to see all one can do is watch those birds that are present. Otherwise, they can do little else. It was nearing two thirty when we decided that, having checked the three local patches, we’d call it a day and head back home relatively early. That was the first time this year that I came home early, and the first day that I felt it really was very quiet on the bird front. Oh well, what can you do?

But there is something I’m hiding from you. I was disappointed that we arrived back home earlier than usual on Saturday. Now, what I haven’t told you is that on Friday night the report of a Great Grey Shrike in the moorlands west of the village of Rhynie had come in from Birdguides. Rhynie is situated on the north-western most borders of Aberdeenshire. Here is how the exact details to the bird’s location read:

‘One perched on top dwarf willows 200m southeast of the Forestry Commission car park west of Rhynie, although this was seen yesterday (Thursday)’

Obviously this sounded a bit vague to someone like me who wasn’t familiar with the Rhynie area. On the Friday evening that this Shrike was reported, my Dad and I discussed whether it would be a good idea to go and look for it on the Saturday. However my Dad seemed to think it wasn’t a good idea. Combining the fact that Great Grey Shrikes can be elusive, that no one had seen it on Friday and that Rhynie was a long way off course from any of our local patches, we came to the conclusion that day could easily be wasted if we headed up there. So instead, we opted to check our local patches, which you know provided very little. If we were to go and see the Shrike on the Saturday, it would have to be reported on Birdguides whilst we were out. Despite me checking my phone quite often to see if it had been reported, however, nothing came through. As we headed back home on the Saturday afternoon my Dad said that if the bird was seen that day we would go and see it the next day. I check Birdguides and ABZ Rare Birds when I get home; still no updates on the Great Grey Shrike. I then proceed to go onto Birdforum, where the previous night I heard that a birder living close to the area in which it had been seen was going to have a look for it on the Saturday. This birder (Fiona, known as Tree Sparrow on Birdforum) was my last hope if I was going to go up and see this bird. I checked the ‘Wild in Aberdeen – City and Shire’ thread, and suddenly my sombre temperament metamorphosed into a feeling of pure delight. Fiona had seen it! It was still there after all. What’s more, she even had photographic evidence of the bird’s presence! This was fantastic, so I alerted my Dad and he agreed that we would go up and see it tomorrow, so long as I sort out the directions. That night on Birdforum, to make things even better for me, Fiona very kindly offered to show me and my Dad the bird, and later in the evening I found myself on the phone to her and organising meeting times and being given directions to where to go. After finding out how to get to the exact location of the Shrike, it was eventually concluded that we would meet at 8:30am outside the car park from which the car park was seen. This would mean an early start the next day.

6:30am, and the alarm clock is ringing. Both my Dad and I are out of bed very quickly, and are soon having breakfast. The birding equipment still hadn’t been put away from the previous day and Dad had made some food for us, so after breakfast and getting ourselves washed and our teeth brushed, we were out the house and travelling towards Rhynie by 10 past 7. Travelling past Loch of Skene, I picked up a Great Spotted Woodpecker dipping across the road, which was a year tick and took the year list to 122. Several Buzzards were enjoying the early morning thermals too, and were seen on a majority of the journey up to Rhynie. The drive was very efficient, and we found ourselves in the Rhynie area at around 5 past 8. Finding the appropriate turn off, we soon found ourselves driving right into the heart of the countryside, encompassed by the looming, heather-covered moors, some of which had a small scattering of snow on them, presumably the remains of the snow caused by the previous month’s hard weather. We progressed down the road for what seemed like quite a long time when eventually after 5 or 6 miles we saw the Clasindarroch Forest to our right. To the left was a fairly expansive lay-by where a Land Rover was parked. Beside it stood a woman who had her binoculars fixatedly on the willow bushes in front of her. It was Fiona, and my first impression was that she was watching the Shrike. As we got out the car, we greeted her and she said:

“It’s still there, perched on the largest of the willow bushes.”

I raised my binoculars in the direction of the willows in which she had said the bird was in, and sure enough, perched proudly on the top of the willows, was a fabulous Great Grey Shrike. It was a fantastic feeling to become acquainted with this bird, and so quickly after our arrival too. It was a terrific bird, easy to pick out even with the naked eye due to its diagnostic and distinctive features. No bigger than a Mistle Thrush, it had the archetypal stand out long tail that a majority of Shrikes obtain, whilst its back and the cap of its head were uniformed with a fantastic dove-grey and its breast a clean white. A black mask was also visible around the eye and its cheeks were white. I must say, it was rather sweet. However, bear in mind that this species is a small but efficient killer. Half of the Great Grey Shrike’s prey biomass consists of small rodents, making it, in a way, carnivorous. The fact the bill is hooked in a raptor like fashion would suggest this. It seemed pretty content sitting on the willows there. I presumed it was on the hunt/in search of prey as I could see its watchful, keen and somewhat mean looking eyes staring at the ground below it as it sat on the topmost branches of the willow. About 5 minutes after watching it my thoughts were confirmed as it abruptly rose from the tree and caught what was most probably a flying invertebrate before returning to its perch. It was a fascinating creature, and a lot of the time it seemed to just stay on the same perch, waiting for more food but at the same time being vigilant of what was going on around it. When a group of people returned to the car after about 20 minutes of us watching the bird, it became scared and took off, flying to a more distant willow bush and propping itself in the usual manner on top of its new perch. Whilst it was in flight, I noted the black and white visible on the tail and wings. What a fantastic bird! Having a look at the closest treetops in the Clasindarroch Forest behind us, I was able to connect with a few Common Crossbills and a few Common Redpolls, which surprisingly took the year list up to 125 species. The moorland was alive with the calls of these birds, as well as that of Siskin, the jangling song of Skylarks and the sweet calls of the first Lapwings and Curlews that had come to nest inland for the spring on what was a lovely, sunny morning. Here are a couple of pictures of the Shrike and the bush in which it was perched. Thanks to Fiona for the two pictures of the Great Grey Shrike and to Ken Hall for a picture of the willows in which the bird was seen on. The pictures aren’t that close up of the Shrikes, but I will link you to some closer up pictures of the bird at the end of the post.

As the Great Grey Shrike was more distant now we decided we’d leave it be for a while and head in search of a speciality species that was known to be present in the area – Black Grouse. Now, Black Grouse has always been a species that I have never seen, solely because hitherto my trip into the Rhynie area I had never been anywhere that was fairly reliable for them (yes I haven’t given the Highlands proper justice!). However, now was my chance to connect with this wonderful species. With Fiona hopping into our car, we left the car park, took a turn off and headed down a road in which she said she had seen Black Grouse before. A little way down this road she told us to park up and scan the moors. We did so, waiting patiently and looking meticulously for any medium-sized, sturdy gamebird that decided to venture behind the boggy grass that dominated in front of the tall heather behind. 10 minutes pass... no sign of any Grouses, but a few Curlews and Lapwings. Another 5 minutes pass and there is no change. But wait! Just as we were thinking that we may have to move on a little, I spot the back of a black coloured, medium sized bird behind a piece of bog. I stare through the scope fixatedly at it, and alert Fiona and my Dad of it. I was almost certain it was a Black Grouse, but for confirmation’s sake I needed it to appear from behind the bog. It did so, and there before me stood an astounding male Black Grouse. My reaction as it appeared was one of complete and utter joy. It was a beautifully ornate bird, with an almost fully jet black body. Going down its neck I noticed it had an exquisite, glossy green blue sheen and I could see its blood red, comb-shaped eyebrows, the latter feature being akin to that of the Red Grouse but much more vibrant looking and noticeable. It was an absolutely tremendous looking bird. As I watched flabbergasted at the beauty of the Black Grouse, my Dad pointed out that he had spotted another male not far to the right of the one which I was watching. Zooming out a little on the scope, I managed to get both birds into my field of vision. The one which I had originally been watching was busily feeding, whilst the other was just standing there. It felt almost like a dream to watch them, as not only is Black Grouse my favourite grouse species but one of my favourite birds. They were divine. After about 5 minutes of watching them, they suddenly took to the air. This was a stupendous sight, and I couldn’t help noticing their prominently exposed, long, lyre-shaped tails. I could also clearly see the white flash of the birds’ underwings and wing-bars, which were outstanding due to the darkness of the rest of the birds’ body. Unfortunately, they didn’t stay in flight briefly or not flight far. Instead, they flew completely out of sight. What extraordinary birds!

With their disappearance, we decided that we’d drive on a little and get to an area where there the land was less boggy and the heather was closer to the car. We eventually found somewhere to park, and were just about to set off into the heather when Fiona exclaimed that she had re-found the two male Black Grouses that we were watching earlier. This time, the viewing conditions were far more ideal. Both birds were closer to us, and were not in a field in which they could conceal themselves behind boggy grass; they were right in the open. As a result of this, I found myself watching them for another 15 minutes or so again. Once this time had passed, Fiona and I left my Dad to continue watching them and hopped over the fence next to the road and into the heather. The aim, of course, was to see if we could flush up any Red Grouse. Despite covering a lot of the heather, neither of us was successful. So after watching the two male Black Grouses a little longer we started to head back to the car park to see some more of the Shrike. Just as we were doing so, Fiona told my Dad to stop the car, and she pointed out a female Black Grouse in front of some heather. This was a comparatively dull bird to the males, but was interesting to see nonetheless. I observed just how much smaller this female was than the males, and I could easily see how one could rule out Red Grouse as this bird lacked the rufousy plumage of Red Grouse. Instead, it was a tawny brown colour and was barred all over. It also lacked the exquisite tail that the males obtain. We watched the female for 30 seconds or so before it disappeared behind the heather again. We then continued our return to the car park. Here is a picture taken by Ken Hall of a male Black Grouse that he saw in the area whilst looking for the Shrike. Thank you very much for letting me use the picture, Ken!

Arriving back, we found the Great Grey Shrike back on the perch in which we had originally seen it. I proceeded to look at it through the scope, trying to take a few pictures but failing to do so. Just as I was trying to take a picture, a van pulled up beside us, and out of it came a man with binoculars in his head and a young girl also surprisingly with binoculars. Who could this be? Well, the man seemed to know who I was.

‘Joseph, isn’t it?” he said as he got out the car, “Gus Guthrie, and this is my daughter Alex. You know us off Birdforum.

What a coincidence! I had just bumped into and met the only other young birder I was aware of in North-east Scotland, and the only person that also had a birdwatcher as a child. I greeted them both warmly, and showed them where the Shrike was. They were soon watching it. It was great to see Alex watching the bird, as she is only 11 years old. I think it is special for someone of her age to be so interested in birds and take such delight as myself in seeing the Shrike. We talked quite a lot as we watched the bird, and were very fortunate when the Great Grey Shrike came to the closest willow bush to us. It didn’t stay there long however, and after that disappeared out of view for a few minutes. At this point Alex and Gus left, as they were hoping to go up to Burghead in search of the King Eider. We wished them good luck and at this point set off for a walk in Clasindarroch forest. The walk proved rather annoying, as we surprisingly found ourselves walking in quite deep snow and occasionally losing our footing as our feet sunk deep down into the snow. However, on this walk up to 30 Siskin were noted, as well as a few Redpolls and a few Crossbills. The walk took half an hour or so, so it was just before midday before we returned to the car park to watch the Great Grey Shrike for the final time. Here we met another few birders who had come up from Aberdeen to see the Shrike, and we watched it with them. It was far more distant this time though. After about 20 minutes or so Fiona left, and we thanked her for what had been an incredibly pleasant morning’s birding. We soon followed her, and headed back to Aberdeen very, very content. As we were travelling back towards Rhynie, we briefly saw a Red Grouse scuttling from the side of the road into the nearby heather, which took the year list to 127 species. Anyway, I had not fully expected to see either Great Grey Shrike or Black Grouse to be quite honest, so it was a real surprise and delight to see them both. I think that both species are lovely birds in their different ways, and I couldn’t have hoped for better views of them. It was fantastic. There was a good cast of other birds that I wasn’t expecting to see that day too, including Crossbill, Redpoll, and Red Grouse. And to round it all up, the scenery was spectacular. Here are some pictures of the moorland round the Rhynie area, as well as a link to some top quality images of the Shrike on Birdguides from Alan Sinclair.

http://www.birdguides.com/iris/pictures.asp?f=242599 - Great Grey Shrike photo

I think that my day in the Rhynie area now stands me in really good stead for my Portland trip. And it just so happens that the next thing I will be blogging is that of my Portland trip. I’m really looking forward to the trip, and have written a whole itinerary of target birds and places I could visit. I will hopefully be doing birding in Dorset, Hampshire and Somerset, and my aim is to have seen around 150 species for the year by the time I get back. That should be possible, providing I have a good time. If I do, I’m sure I’ll have lots to report, and with having lots to report, will find myself not up to date with this blog once again!

Thanks for reading,

Joseph