Close to Nature

6.4.16

I was standing quietly in the garden beneath the bare branches of an apple tree wondering whether to add to my now decaying log pile when my reverie was broken by the sound of crashing branches and the frantic flapping of wings. I quickly looked to my right to see, not twenty foot away, a female sparrowhawk land or rather tumble to the ground amongst the overhanging leaves of the artichokes. She had obviously taken her prey from either the leylandii or the bay tree above. With fierce yellow eyes and her wings outstretched and pointing forwards she shielded her prey and for good reason as this attack had not gone unnoticed. Above, the air was filled with around ten jackdaws all calling wildly and circling around the tree tops. At this point I could not see her unfortunate victim but as I moved slightly she must have suddenly realised I was there and released her grip and off flew a rather battered collared dove, its feathers ruffled, to say the least. Like a rocket the sparrowhawk was off in pursuit and within fifty yards caught up and stretching out a talon it plucked the dove out of mid-air and plunged with it to the ground out of sight amongst some large shrubs in a neighbour’s garden. The jackdaws, now joined by a magpie, followed but soon their raucous calls subsided and they flew away leaving the hawk to dine in peace.
On two occasions over the past few years I have disturbed a sparrowhawk in the garden feeding on a collared dove and at others times I have found piles of white feathers on the lawn suggesting a hawk had plucked a dove but I have never witnessed an actual kill in the garden and certainly not at such close quarters. While the smaller male might struggle with prey the size of a collared dove it is certainly no problem for the larger female. I do wonder if the proliferation of the collared dove and the more recent increase in sparrowhawk numbers are in someway linked.

A Special Bird

Despite the best efforts of storm ’Gertrude’, my wife and I recently enjoyed a short break in North Norfolk. That evening, after a windswept day of birdwatching (the highlight being a stunning male brambling at Titchwell), we sat down for dinner and as the waitress recited the ‘specials’ we were surprised when she said “woodcock”!

This pigeon sized bird with a long bill and delicate brown and grey barring frequents damp woodland and, being crepuscular, often remains hidden during the day unless flushed. At dusk during the breeding season the male performs its ‘roding’ display flight above the tree tops while calling - a sight and sound I would love to witness.

I like game and I eat it regularly. I eat pheasant and partridge (red legged of course) but these are bred for shooting and therefore I can justify them being on the menu. The woodcock, on the other hand, is a truly wild bird and sightings are rare indeed, especially in my part of Essex. What I cannot understand is why this secretive, red list bird (along with the more common snipe) are classed as game and, as such, they are allowed to be hunted in season.

For a moment I wondered what it would taste like and thought I should try it, after all it had already been shot but then my conscience got the better of me. No - why should I encourage the shooting of this bird by creating a demand even though in the Autumn the number of woodcock in the UK increases dramatically with an influx of visitors from Finland and Russia?

Looking at the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 on the computer, I found schedule 2 part 1 which lists the birds that can killed or taken outside of the close season and was surprised that it also includes pintail, gadwall and golden plover! Conversely: pheasant, partridge and red grouse do not appear on the list but do appear from time to time on the menu! I know It can be dangerous for the likes of myself to negotiate the minefields of legislation and therefore I rely on organisations such as the RSPB to protect our wildlife when needed. So I will ask them why a red list bird such as a woodcock still features on menus.  

Winter Visitors

With Christmas and the New Year packed away, I finally managed to arrange a day out birdwatching with a friend.  A real chance to kick off my year list which up to now consisted of only the common garden birds and a few I had seen flying over.  Unfortunately, the day we chose coincided with the first real wintry conditions of the year, with temperatures in low single figures, showers and a brisk northerly wind.  

As we approached our destination, Abberton reservoir, the first new bird for my list flew across in front of the car. It was a ghostly white, little egret. My friend recalled the time twenty years ago when he went on a ‘twitch’ to see this now established species. We parked on the lower causeway and surveyed the wide expanses of choppy grey water dotted with wildfowl and gulls. As it was raining, we opened the car window on the leeward side and used our binoculars to scan the birds. It wasn’t long before we picked out, amongst the numerous great crested grebes and pochards, two goldeneye. From the comfort of the car we watched as these winter visitors from northern climes dived repeatedly in the cold water, disappearing from sight for what seemed a remarkably long time until bobbing back to the surface, their large white loral patch showing well even at a distance. By now the rain had stopped and somewhat reluctantly we left the car, telescopes over our shoulders, ready to brave the elements and to seek out more species. Next, we found three elegant goosanders, with their long red bills hooked at the tip, another exciting winter visitor. Among the mainly black headed gulls wheeling low overhead, was one individual with an unseasonal, almost complete, black hood and a few common gulls. Back in the relative warmth of the car we drove to the other end of the causeway and resumed our search and were soon rewarded with good views of what must be the most attractive of the sawbills, the male smew!  Breeding in northern boral forests beside water, this rather scarce duck graces our winter months with its white plumage, edged with fine lines of black. Nearby was the female, with its brown-grey upperparts and chestnut-brown head, commonly referred to as a ‘red head’.

Our year lists were growing but the cold forced us once again to retreat and this time drive to the visitor centre for a hot drink as well as information on one winter visitor that had so far eluded us, the Bewick’s swan. Despite the recent reports of around three individuals being seen, we had only found mute swans. Apart from a stonechat on the approach to the centre, we did not see any new birds from its panoramic windows but we were informed that the Bewick’s had been seen in Wigborough Bay, so now warmed, we left to find them.       

We tried from various vantage points to locate the elusive swans without luck, but on one occasion while focussing on two distant swans both with their heads underwater, we did see a male marsh harrier quartering the rough grassland in the background. The swans- they eventually raised their heads, they, like all the swans we had seen that day, had orange bills not the yellow that we had hoped for!  

We came away pleased with the birds we had seen, my year list is now at 51, and it seemed fitting to witness these winter visitors who had migrated for conditions that we found cold and bleak.      

New Year, New list

Have you ever wondered what it is that drives some birdwatchers to year after year compile lists of their sightings and is there a useful product at the end of their often dedicated endeavours?

Being a 'lister' myself, the initiation of the cycle is of course the approach to New Year's Day when I begin to look forward to starting my brand new lists. It's the time to put all the successes and failures behind you, and ahead, a whole new year in which you will perhaps have a chance to add new species.

The anticipation reminds me of schooldays when you were given new exercise books at the beginning of term, your neatest hand writing on the pristine cover, a fresh start. Looking back I suppose I exhibited all the trademarks of a future 'lister' when in my younger days I and a couple of school friends would go bus and train spotting. Ideal training for any aspiring birdwatcher really i.e. standing around, often at the end of a windswept platform or a cold, remote bus station, underlining or ticking off the engines and buses in our books. It was around this time of my childhood that my first bird list was born when I started to tick off the birds that I had seen in my Observer's Book of Birds.

Nowadays, like numerous other birdwatchers I am sure, I keep two lists- a garden list and a year list. I won't bore you with the details of my somewhat mundane year lists which, by the way, has never exceeded the 150 mark but I would like to share some of the highlights from over the years that have appeared on my garden list in Corringham, Essex. They include ;  waxwing, wryneck, barn owl, reed bunting, woodcock, spotted flycatcher, coal tit, grey wagtail, ring necked parakeet, brambling, willow warbler, goldcrest, redwing, fieldfare, song thrush, siskin and sparrowhawk. 

So going back to my initial question [what use are lists?]. Well obviously they are great for looking back and rekindling memories of the more exciting sightings and perhaps their locations. They can also remind you of the harsher periods of weather as most of the scarcer birds have occurred in winter during periods of snow or very low temperatures, especially in gardens. If you compare your lists year by year you may see changes in the species turning up in your garden or even further afield. On a wider scale, submitting your records to the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) or the RSPB's garden watch schemes, you can contribute to the monitoring of population fluctuations on a national level.

Happy New Year 

Birds do Brighten a Winter's Day

The recent cold snap, with overnight temperatures dropping below freezing for a couple of days, seemed to bring the garden to life. With the drab grey-green tones and bare branches the birds certainly provided some much needed colour.
The highlight was a female ring -necked parakeet that paid a visit to my peanut feeder. Watching this bright green parrot with a 'soft' red bill and long tail clinging and moving around the feeder I was surprised at its agility.
Soon, I wasn't the only one watching. A male great spotted woodpecker, black and white with splashes of red to add to the palette, alighted on a nearby branch and must have been equally surprised to see this exotic new-comer.
Then to complete the picture, three goldfinches, flashing yellow, flew down to the nyger seed feeder.
It is scenes such as this that make me look forward to winter when more birds, including the unusual, come to take advantage of the food that we provide in our gardens. 

Essex Man is back!

I can’t believe that over two years have passed since I last blogged but here I am back into print after finally publishing my book called, naturally, “Essex Man Goes Wild”. I have collated a series of articles written over a number of years detailing observations, experiences and sightings in my own garden and further afield. All profits from any sales will be divided equally between Basildon Natural History Society and Essex Wildlife Trust. The book is available on Amazon.

So, what’s been happening in my little corner of Essex? Well, it was around the middle of February that I started to notice two long tailed tits in the garden on almost a daily basis. Normally in winter we see family ‘troops’ of up to twenty birds passing through, emitting their high pitched contact calls but then only on the odd occasion. So this regular sighting of what might be a pair caught my attention. More so when after a few days I noted that they seemed to be particularly interested in our berberis, a spiny evergreen shrub, which has grown to a height of  around 15 foot with honeysuckle growing through it. 

The pair of blue tits who appeared to have ‘reserved’ the nest box on a tree about 20 foot away seemed to take exception to the presence of the newcomers and would make darting flights to drive away the long tailed tits. Not to be deterred they would return and quickly disappear into the shrub only to reappear minutes later from another part of the bush. By now I started watching through binoculars and to my delight on occasions I could see material in their bills, confirmation they were building. Their tiny bills would only have a small amount of material, sometimes moss, sometimes perhaps it was cobwebs and now and again what looked like small white feathers, I couldn’t be sure but what an intricate and time consuming business it must be. 

I did wonder if both birds were involved in building but as male and female are alike it wasn’t easy to confirm. But with patience I did manage on two or three occasions to see both birds with nesting material in their bills before they disappeared into the berberis. I should not have been surprised, for only one bird to build such an intricate nest would, I feel, have been a Herculean feat too far.

   

I was intrigued to think that I would be able to witness the formation of this bird’s elaborate nest. A small, soft, domed pouch with the entrance hole near the top, made of moss held together with cobwebs and sometimes finished with lichen it must be one of the marvels of avian construction. 

Despite their quick, darting and often acrobatic movements, using my binoculars I was on occasions afforded some close up views of this delightful tiny bird. The plumage is mainly black and white with a prominent white ‘flash’ in the middle of the head. The scapulars are a wine-red or reddish brown and on the flanks and belly the reddish brown sometimes takes on a pinkish hue and there is a gorget of small dark spots across the breast. On one such close encounter we watched from the kitchen as a long tailed tit probed the corners of the garage window and edges of the soffit plucking strands of sticky spider webs and having harvested a small bundle flew directly back to the nest site. The mortar for the moss!

The comings and goings continued daily over the next week with the blue tits, who were not making any attempts with their own nesting, still keeping up their ‘bullying’ tactics but I was pleased to see it did not deter their black and white cousins. Another encouraging sight was to see them feeding on the peanuts or fat balls, helping, I like to think, to sustain their energies for the task in hand.     

As I watched their tireless determination I could not help but think of the trials that may lie ahead. On occasions I have seen a sparrowhawk flash through or drift high over the garden and a pair of magpies are often squawking harshly in the tops of nearby trees. Then of course there are the local cats and even great spotted woodpeckers, which also visit my garden, all can be a threat to either the young or adults. Even the weather might play a part, how would they fare if we had a cold snap with snow and ice? And then there is me! Mowing the lawn, gardening, will these disturbances cause the birds to desert the nest? These may be dangers that most nesting birds face but when it might happen in your own back garden it somehow seems more real. 

Around the middle of March the nest looked complete, what a feat of engineering, all accomplished without hands! However, sightings of the pair had diminished drastically. Trying to be optimistic, I put their apparent absence down to the fact that they could be laying eggs and therefore keeping a low profile but by the end of March and no sightings for over a week I was certain they had deserted the nest. And so it proved to be, to think that this pair would have to spend another hectic three or four weeks building a second nest. I do so hope they will be successful wherever they are!  

Winter Stores

It was not long after I had discarded on to the lawn, the rather ‘tired’ looking peanuts from the bird feeder and refilled it with fresh nuts, when a flash of white, pink and dazzling blue landed in the apple tree. It was a handsome jay and with sharp black eyes it surveyed the scene before ‘bouncing’ down onto the lawn.

I watched through binoculars from the kitchen window as it quickly gulped a number of whole peanuts before flying off.  Within twenty minutes the bird returned and this time I counted the number of peanuts it swallowed: sixteen, the last two could still be seen gripped in its partly open bill. I threw out another handful of peanuts and over the next hour the bird made a further five visits, the last two hampered by the bullying tactics of a pair of magpies. Nonetheless, I estimated that this bird, about the same size as a jackdaw and certainly the most colourful of our corvids, collected over sixty peanuts in total!!  The maximum I counted in a single visit was twenty! I could have sworn that I could see its cheeks and throat bulging with the nuts and subsequent investigation revealed that the bird does in fact have a sublingual pouch in which they store and carry food.

The jay is mainly a bird of woodlands and not a common bird in my garden with usually only one or two sightings annually but this year with the poor acorn crop, their main food source, they have become a frequent visitor to many gardens. No doubt the peanuts have been stashed safely underground - hopefully, to be retrieved in leaner times over the coming winter months.