Black Grouse Theory

The last few years have seen some mirky corners of my UK list properly cleaned out. One brief view of a Nightjar silhouette? Now a decent view of birds flying round and churring. Fleeting view of Goshawk? Prolonged view of several at Cockley Cley on several occasions. Short brief view of Little Auk, may have been a Starling? Close up fly-byes and one on a reservoir.

One dingy-record remains. A bird ticked, but not experienced. Black Grouse. A brief view of Blackcock lekking at distance. Not the lekk itself, as that was just over a hillock. Just birds in the air. Good enough to tick, in the small hours of a bird race sometime last century. Roll forward thirty years, and family business in Leeds gave me an opportunity to spend the morning correcting this state of affairs.

But where to look? Unlike some of our local rarities such as Stone Curlew (Weeting Heath, or Minsmere entrance road), Goshawk (see above), or Savi's Warbler (Minsmere, Island Hide, bushes at the back left corner of the mere), information on where to see Black Grouse is difficult. Lekks are closely guarded secrets for obvious reasons, but general winter habitat?

Careful curating of my twitter feed gave some clues. The southernmost English population to my knowledge is in Swaledale, and specifically the northern tributary of Arkengarthdale. The 'road' from Langthwaite to Barnard Castle goes past Shaw Farm, a local centre for aiding the status of Black Grouse. Other names that popped up were Whaw, a village in Arkengarthdale a few miles north of Langthwaite, and West Stonesdale which is the dale from England's highest pub, the Tan Hill inn down to Keld, the village at the top of Swaledale. So, 8am out the door ...

The sun shone as I left Reeth heading north, and I started stopping off at likely-looking spots on the road and scanning. My working theory was that Red Grouse like the moorland heather-rich tops, but Black Grouse prefer the wooded edges lower down the slope avoiding the barren windswept moors themselves. I searched diligently, found lots of likely looking blobs, but when I got the scope on them they were either stones or clods of earth casting shadows, or rabbits. And there were lots of rabbits. Odd how, when you remove every predator from a grassy landscape, that the place should become over-run with rabbits.

I was soon on open moor where I connected with a few Red Grouse, and a couple of distant waders in flight that were probable Golden Plover, but other than that is was barren, and I found myself at Tan Hill Inn where I stopped for a bacon sandwich. Yes, that Tan Hill Inn. the one where Vera was filmed (partly), the one that gets cut off by snow every winter, the one that is on TV so often Mrs DD feels she knows personally the young couple who run the place.

On down West Stonesdale, Its a beautiful little dale, and the area round Keld is for my money England's finest landscape, but Black Grouse there were none. I started getting a bit desperate, stopping at places not on my itinerary and searching. In the end I thought, well Whaw was on the list twice, so go back.

Find Black Grouse at Whaw? I couldn't even find Whaw. I eventually decided the collection of odd buildings and huts on the far side of the valley were Whaw, so I pulled in by the side of the road, set up the scope and had a good look among the edges of a few stands of bushes and trees. Nothing. Just a flock of Fieldfare and Starlings.

More out of desperation than anything else I decided to scan the moorland at the top of the opposite hill. Bracken, heather, grand, and rocks. Lots of little outcrops, grey, brown, and black in the low afternoon light. Scanning back one of the black clods seemed to have moved. And then a grouse-like head appeared. Could it be? I kept watching, and soon realised there were two blackish birds and a brown one. One of the blackish birds lifted its tail to show off all-white under tail coverts. Prolonged views at 60x were enough to rule out the classic confusion species of Dark-Bellied Brent Goose and Moorhen. I scanned further and found two Red Grouse and another Blackcock. This bird, slightly lower down, showed all the features. White under tail, white crescent on the wings. At last. All that stood between me and fantastic views was half a mile of valley. I decide not to try and get closer, but headed off, turning in the road at a point that I later found out was the actual hamlet off Whaw, and headed back to Leeds. No longer with just one distant view of Black Grouse on my list, but two distant views of Black Grouse.

If you want to see Black Grouse in winter, then, weather permitting, you can go on the road from Langthwaite to Tan Hill, stop just north of Langthwaite and scan the distant tops of hills with a good telescope. On the OS Map it is opposite Wood House looking toward Low Moor. There are some roads near there so if you trust your vehicle on these single-lane tarmac tracks you could try and get closer, or if you fancy a walk you can park at Langthwaite (£), walk up to Shaw Farm and then across the moors to Whaw and back down the valley to Langthwaite. The grouse could be anywhere, on the tops of moors as well as on the edges.

MEGA!

Back in the homeland for a family visit, and a chance to get a truly rare bird on the list!

A stop at Fairburn Ings on the way back south, and a walk down Lin Dyke at the western edge. There was a Great White Egret but that was not the target. A Sparrowhawk shot through the bushes much to the consternation of several Blue Tits and some Redwings that erupted from nowhere, and then there it was, that harsh call I hadn't heard for years. Two of them, one each side of the path. I eventually got some great views of one of them, my first Willow Tit this century!

Here in East Herts the Willow Tit's close cousin the Marsh Tit is something of a speciality, so I've had a good look at them over the years, and the immediate things that struck me abut Willow Tit was all the things the books say; the bib was more diffuse over the lower region, that pale wing panel was clear, the cap was noticeably matt, and the cheeks seems higher and paler, the black cap more of a wide black line when seen from above. But the call is the clear and obvious thing.

Other than that, a Curlew, then off to St Aidans's and Marsh Harrier, Pintail, Stonechat.

I got to asking myself when the last time I saw a Willow Tit was, and its hard because I have not been the most assiduous record keeper in my birdwatching career, I tend to make a note of the main birds as I see them at the time, and given my travels round the country and the decline of this species it was not obvious the last time I saw them that I wasn't going to see another one for ages. I certainly haven't seen one this century. Trawling through my notes I used to keep reasonable year-lists with dates,  and I suspect it was 20th June 1987 at a local North West Leeds site. I was just finishing up at Uni and the following month would catch the train south to start my career, and in a few months would be seeing Sabine's Gulls in strange corners of South West London, but not Willow Tits.

Back in The Dales

My birding developed during my teenage years when I lived in NW Leeds. As my interest developed I became aware that some of those birds in my Hamlyn Field Guide that I used to spend my evening studying spent the summer not far away. So on 30th May 1978 I made my way to Ilkley and Heber's Ghyll Wood. There I found my first Wood Warblers, immediately entranced by that descending trill and shivering song - what a performance! And that bright yellow throat! I saw three males in total.

Over the years I heard that song in more and more places locally, until the notion of going all the way to Ilkley seemed ridiculous. But time, relocation, and the degradation of the natural environment has led to Wood Warblers becoming much scarcer in The Dales and certainly much scarcer on my list.

Recently I've been googling to see if they still occurred in Hebers Ghyll, and drawn a blank. But the other day I had a tweet in my feed with a photo of a bird from the woods, and so almost 41 years later to the day - 29th May - I found myself back at Hebers Ghyll Wood on a detour from a family visit to see if they still make the long journey.

The first thing I heard on getting out of the car was that shivering song. I found the bird courtesy of a photographer carefully positioned nearby, and watched this gem for about half an hour. What a great bird. I climbed the path towards the moor - I'd forgotten what a beautiful wood it is - and came across two more singing males. Just the same as 1978.

So then up to the moor itself, and again some changes from when I was last here - mainly for the better. Plentiful Meadow Pipits, Willow Warblers, Two pairs of Stonechat with singing males, Reed Bunting, and Red Grouse - I didn't think these would be so close to the town.

The famous grouse

God's Own County

With the passing of the years my wildlife interest has expanded so I was particularly keen to see Bilberry Bumble Bee Bombus Monticola. Well, there was lots of Bilberry, and lots of a likely looking bee. So I spent a happy half hour snapping my first Bilberry Bees, although I did think that the raspberry-tail was meant to cover over half the abdomen? Needless to say, when I got back and checked, I'd spent my half hour snapping Early Bumble Bees. Well, I suppose we learn one mistake at a time, and I will at some time get to enjoy the thrill of seeing my first Bilberry Bees all over again!

An Early Bumble Bee. Clearly not a Bilberry Bumble Bee. What fool would think that?

Then finishing the day at the usual place - Strid Woods. The weather was closing in - one thing that hasn't changed in Yorkshire - so just a few Pied Flycatchers, Redstart only heard, Spotted Flycatchers, Nuthatch, Common Sandpiper, Siskin, Oystercatcher, Redshank. The usual.

... and some of these too.

Spurn Point on migration fest weekend

I stayed with my mother in Leeds on Saturday night, returning to Hertfordshire on Sunday. A quick look at the map will reveal that a straight line from Leeds to Herts practically goes past the front door of Spurn Point; just a small detour required, would be rude not to. And by coincidence, it is day two the Spurn Migration Festival, so I am curious. The only downer is the solid west wind that clears Spurn of interesting bird like a dose of salts.

I arrive and check #migfest and a Corncrake has just been seen! A lifer for me, I head down to the location and join a crowd of 40 looking at a field with grass much taller than any Corncrake. Surely a futile gesture but no! There it is! and soon I am looking at my first Corncrake through the scope. The head is peeking round above the grass, and I am somewhat surprised that a Corncrake should be that big, and so, well, there's no other way to put this, so like a Pheasant. Slowly the truth dawns on the crowd, but hang on there it is! next to the Pheasant is a much smaller bird. We all get onto that, and there are two small birds, and they are baby pheasants. Oh well.

I parked back at migration-festival central and walk up to Kilnsea wetlands. No repeat of last years experience, just a few Wigeon, three Black-Tailed Godwits, some Dunlin, a Common Sandpiper and a Ringed Plover. And lots of Greylag Geese.

On to Beacon Lane Ponds, and there are three cracking female Roe Deer in a field and beyond them I can just make out about a hundred Golden Plover. Sadly no repeat of last year's Merlin on the ponds, not much at all in fact, until I get back to the Discovery Centre and a crowd looking at a flock of Sparrows, and soon the reason becomes apparent when a Common Rosefinch pops up. So dull it makes the Sparrows look flamboyant, it is nevertheless a neat bird, and has a touch of pink on the bill which I believe makes it a first-year male. A Whinchat appears alongside it, and we soon forget about the Rosefinch and concentrate on this.

Flushed with unexpected success and informed by the walkie-talkies which seem to be present at every group, I go to the sea-watching hut and join a line looking out to sea. A Great Skua was reported, and it took a while to realise that the dot in the distance was what they were watching. Then an Arctic Skua, and much purring from the line about the splendid close views we were getting as the bird went north a mere half a mile out.

Then briefly back to Kilnsea Wetlands. No sign of the Curlew Sandpiper, but a Pintail and a first-winter Mediterranean Gull are nice additions to the list, then its time for home.

The main feature was the number of people there who had come for the festival, and in particular the number of young folk. It was great to be amongst so many birders. But call me an old moaner, I have noticed when ladies of a certain age get together in a hide they develop list fever and start seeing all sorts of things. I felt a bit of a killjoy telling some ladies that three Citrine Wagtails would be an exceptional sightings, and that most sightings at this time of year are juvenile birds and not bright yellow. Perhaps in future I should just shut up and let them enjoy their birds, real or imagined.

Dipping in Yorkshire 21-22 May

A trip to see my elderly mother in God's Own County gave a couple of opportunities for birding. First a detour on the way to Blacktoft Sands RSPB reserve to see the Montague's Harrier that had been consistently seen over the last few days. I used to visit this regularly in the 1980s and 1990s and had birds such as White-Rumped Sandpiper, Temminck's Stint, Red-Necked Stint, Spotted Crake, as well as lots of other waders. Like many similar places, it seems to have gone off the boil a bit, so it was really an all-or-nothing trip for the Harrier.

Long-story-short, the Montague's decided not to appear. I gave it several hours, mainly spent in the Singleton Hide, and had a brief bit of excitement when a medium-size brownish raptor with white on the tail appeared, but it was a female Sparrowhawk.

Nevertheless, it was a good day. A pair of Garganey, many Avocets, lots of Tree Sparrows - a bird Northerners stroll past without a second thought but that Southerners like myself always enjoy seeing, having none of our own. Bearded tits, Reed Warbler, Yellow Wagtail, but stars of the show were Marsh Harriers. I settled on 3 males and 3 females. There was hunting close to the hide, talon grappling, food passes, and displaying. One of the males was as fine a bird as I've ever seen; silver wings with heavy black tips and a chestnut body and coverts, then an orange tail. It looked like it had wondered over from the Indian sub-continent.

Worth noting Little Egret, Cetti's Warbler, and Buzzard. All birds I saw on this visit and I'm pretty sure I didn't see in my visits of the 80's and 90's.

The 22nd dawned cloudy and windy. I visited Norwood Edge for the Iberian Chiffchaff and found a couple of others there looking for it. It sang nice and clearly, and distinctively. Should I tick it? Well firstly, I didn't see it as it remained in swaying treetops, but if I had seen it I would have seen a chiffchaff, or possibly a silhouette of a chiffchaff. Secondly, part of me refuses to recognise these variants of chiffchaffs as real species. But on the other hand, a tick is a tick ...

On to The Strid at Bolton Abbey with now bright sunshine, and a repeat of last-years walk; up to near Barden Bridge then back down the other side. It was marginally less successful than last-year; no Dipper, and no Wood Warbler, but I did get Redstart (just 1), Spotted Flycatcher and many Pied Flycatchers, singing, perching, going into nest boxes, a truly spectacular sight. There was a nesting Treecreeper, Goosander with chicks on the stream as well as Mandarin there too. Then whilst walking down the far side, a flurry of activity in a small ravine just forty yards away. Three medium-sized round-winged birds flying at each other and giving repeated 'tic' sounds. Finally one settled and wandered round briefly with its large eyes and enormous beak. How often do you see Woodcock in the middle of the day? How often do you see three? As always with birding, it is the unexpected that puts the icing on the cake.

The strid in full flow.

Birding Disaster Recovery at Spurn Head.

After an eternity of westerlies, a brief window of South-Easterlies. Spurn Head was clearly going to be the place to be. Time to visit my mother in Leeds with just a small detour to see some birds on the way.

Late morning found me at Spurn Head with just one problem. Thick fog. An Olive Backed Pipit and a couple of Little Buntings had been seen, but by 2pm I reckoned given the number of people there that out 100 man hours had been collectively spent birding, of which thirty minutes had been spent looking at rarities and 99.5 hours at been spent staring at bushes through the gloom.

This was clearly a birding disaster. As the rain began to fall and I contemplate a list that was worse then an average morning in my back garden, I decided emergency action was called for. Time to put Birding Disaster Recovery into operation, which is basically to just go and find some birds, any birds, and look at them.

Kilnsea Wetlands is just north of Kilnsea. the first hide has a few ducks, mainly Wigeon and Teal with some Shovellers, and a couple of eclipse Pintail. I could just make out 3 juv Little Stints through the gloom, and a wader that seemed bigger than the stints but smaller than a Dunlin, like a large Temminck's Stint, but I was peering into thick fog round a corner and getting nowhere so I moved on. I walked round the wetlands toward Beacon Lane Ponds, stopping for some decent views of a small flock of Reed buntings - sadly no Little. On walking up to the top of the bank I realised the fog had lifted and I could see the sea. The ponds and dunes looked just ideal for a Merlin to fly though. A Merlin flew through and stopped on a low branch long enough for the scope; a vision of brown and white monochrome hunting perfection. four Whooper Swans in a field were the first of the autumn for me, and then out onto the beach where the sea had a few Gannets and three small parties of Common Scoter heading south. Then back to the wetlands where waders were gathering for a high tide roost. 3 Ruffs joined over a thousand waders, mainly Redshank and Dunlin but also Curlew and Bar-tailed Godwit. The birds went up and the air filled with white as about 30 Little Egret flew round prior to landing

From the end of the wetlands onwards, Thrush numbers had been building. Mainly Redwings, but small parties of Blackbirds and Song Thrushes, and a couple of Fieldfares. Stood on the beach there was constant calling as small parties flew over, and scans showed some flying in; one black bird had a silvery sheen and some white on the breast so was almost certainly a Ring Ouzel. a scan on returning to the car showed fields full of thrushes. I must have seen in excess of a thousand, with Blackbirds over a hundred and sing thrushes over fifty. So at the last, a decent list for the day and some classic Spurn October migration.

I could have done with my birding mates. Apart from the company and two extra pairs of better birding eyes, at times like this I tend to start dashing around, trying to see everything but ending up seeing nothing and they would probably have calmed me down. Perhaps we would have spent longer looking at that bird with the stint as today I see a White-rumped Sandpiper was recorded at Kilnsea Wetlands. Oh well. I think trying to make sense of that bird in the murk would have meant missing out on the Swans and the Merlin

Bramhope revisited - and the importance of comprehensive note taking

A bright morning walk to revisit old haunts round Bramhope. I walk I used to do periodically from the mid 1970s to the mid 1980s. Walking down Long Meadows a loud screeching turned out to be from a Little Owl sat in a tree on the edge of the field. Then past Old Rushes Farm. This used to be a tumble down couple of barns but is now all done up and inhabited, not just by people but by a small flock of Tree Sparrows. Up to Paul's Pond and a Little Grebe in with the Tufted Duck and Canadas. Up to the slopes of Golden Acre Park, and where once children sledged down a grassy slope there are now trees of all shapes and sizes, and consequently a family party of Bullfinch and a Nuthatch. Up to Lineham Farm where two Willow Chiffs hooet-ed in the bushes, back to Bramhope where an Oystercatcher flew high over.

I checked my records. I used to have Little Owl at the tumble-down Old rushes Farm, clearly not one there now. My records showed Tree Sparrows at nearby Adle Dam but no records from anywhere on the walk, and to be honest I have absolutely no recollection of seeing Tree Sparrows at the Dam. And no flying over Oystercatcher records either. Add the Ubiquitous Red Kites and that's four new species-records for the walk. In addition I had Nuthatch calling from all reasonable size bits of woodland (about 5 in total). I have Nuthatch records from Adle Dam but not anywhere else.

So has there genuinely been an increase in Tree Sparrows and Nuthatches? I'm just not sure my old records are comprehensive enough. If I'd done then what I do now, which is to regularly record all birds seen on my standard patch walk, I may have a reasonable basis for comparison.

If I could go back in time and have a word with my younger self, I would say - just once in a while, record everything you see. Things that seem commonplace and dull today may become of great interest in later years. And you will need to know that if its not on that list, that means it wasn't observed, not that you couldn't be bothered to note it.

Nostalgia

Some days stick in your mind. 23rd August 1986 was one such for me. I was wandering round my then home north of Leeds and took an unfamiliar route back to Bramhope via Lineham Farm. This is rough farmland right on the top of the escarpment that sits on the south-side of the Wharfe valley, and to the west becomes Otley Chevin and then Ilkley Moor. Long story short: 15 Whinchat, 6 Wheatear, 1 Redstart, 2 Tree Pipits. Birds I had never expected to see in those numbers so close to my home.

I went back on a couple of occasions that year and had more Whinchats and Wheatears. I moved out of the area but returned nearby in the early 90's and revisited a few times in early September and had regular Redstarts and Whinchats. My notes also show Yellow Wagtail, and resident Grey Partridge and Little Owl.

The decades have passed, life has moved on, but last week (9th) I found myself back in Bramhope with time to spare, so I headed out again down Breary Lane East and out to Lineham farm. How would it compare?

Firstly, its a shock to see the things you took for normal. The hawthorn hedges were windblown affairs; sparse, gnarled, twisted and stunted, not the lush and vibrant hedgerows down here in Hertfordshire. The fields were rammed with scores of sheep apparently being held for a few days prior to being taken to market. There had been crops grown in the area, but now it was just rough pasture and much of it looked as if it had been left to go wild and thistle-covered. And the views were fantastic, across Lower Wharfedale and up the Washburn Valley.

The first change in the birdlife was predictable: Red Kite. Not a single distant red kite, but four red kites in view at once, more behind me, one crouched in a field like a white-haired old lady with a grey shawl, and one just over my head. What an awesome change, and one worth jumping up and down about. The second change was Common Buzzard. 2 birds, sat in bushes so not just drifting over. this was a scarce bird back in the 80's in these parts, but like much of the rest of Eastern England they are now well established. Then c35 Lapwings in a field with 200 Starlings (not recorded in my old notes but were typically in the area), c150 Goldfinches and sat quietly amongst them 3 Siskin, also noted a Sparrowhawk, c20 Pied Wagtails, c20 Swallows, and a few Common Gulls - again a common bird in Yorkshire.

So on this occasion no migrants (other than Willow Chiffs calling distantly), no Grey Partridge, no Little Owl. That doesn't mean they aren't here, but the area has changed and I would not be surprised if the Partridge at least had gone.