Terns

lunchtime today, strolling by the Thames, when a small flurry of avian snowflakes appeared whirling over the river. A flock of Terns, tumbling and swooping around and under London Bridge. I counted 18 in total, a mix of adults and juveniles. I'd guess Arctic Terns, mainly because that's what I'd like them to have been.

Incoming

To Hanningfield Res today to get a few September goodies.

Late arrival due to infuriating Sunday Driving, so I dashed round to the Oak Hide. I was soon admiring 3 Black Terns, an imm Little Gull, a Greenshank, a juv Knot,and a couple of Common Sandpipers.

The point hide has similar but there was a Herring Gull sat down ...


... that morphed into an adult Yellow-Legged Gull when it stood up.



I was about to leave, when I gave the far shore another scan for the Buzzards and Hobby that had been reported earlier. They were absent, but there was this ...



... that on close inspection turned out to be this.



I spent the next half-hour watching this Osprey diving into the water in frustrated attempts to catch a fish.

I was just one annoying Sunday Driver away from missing it too, as I was overdue on my leaving time. I guess sometimes you just don't realise when someone's doing you a favour

Back to Weymouth

Bank holiday with the family and Dog.

Saturday I went to Ferrybridge in search of another mis-identified Little Stint.
Knot - 1 juv
Sandwich Tern 3
Barwit 2

lots of Ringed Plover, Dunlin, and Turnstone

Sunday D#2 had avoided going out all day so I persuaded him to go to Lodmoor:

Common Buzzard 1 put up:
Avocet 8 - first at Lodmoor for me.
Blackwit 4
Common Sandpiper 3
Yellow Wagtail 5 went South
lots of other common stuff.

Then Monday morning at the Nothe 2 Willow Warblers and a Wheatear. Sparrowhawk over the marina.

Radipole had a few Common Terns- spent time studying the juvs.

I dipped on Med Gulls - I think there's a few around, but mobile.

Alexander's Bands

On the way back from Weymouth D2 managed a photo of a rainbow. You can just make out the second rainbow with reversed colours and the slightly darker band between the two rainbows known as Alexander's bands.


honest

Dodgy ID's

Most of my birding I do by myself, so I’m constantly confronted by the limits of my own ID skills, particularly in Autumn when there’s a mix of plumages. I can’t seem to summon up the certainty of many other birders.

At the Common Tern colony at Lodmoor for instance, where there’s been Arctic Terns and a Roseate Tern recently, I was struggling. I’d only seen Roseate once before and had it pointed out to me in flight; would I be able to identify one sat in front of me without help?

The first visit drew a blank, just a mix of juvenile and adult plumages. On the second visit I found a juvenile with an all-black bill and an absence of the ginger shawl the juvenile Commons have, but otherwise apparently identical to the surrounding Commons. Was this the Arctic? Or perhaps the Roseate losing its summer plumage? I toured the reserve seeing little of interest and ended up at the bandstand looking over the tern colony again. All the terns went up and suddenly there, gleaming almost white, was the Roseate Tern. It settled on its own and was obviously different; easy to pick out with the naked eye; a black bill with a few splashes of red at the base, pale back and wings, bright red legs, and as I zoomed up was there even a splash of pink on the breast?

It seemed bored. All around were Common Terns engaged in a whirl of social interactions; squabbling juveniles, loafing adults, males offering fish to females, females refusing them because the female next door had been offered a bigger one. The Rosy seemed uncomfortable to be in such company, and eventually flew off. The wing-beats were faster than the Common Terns, so I should have no problems picking up a Rosy amongst Commons as they fly past the bill next spring.

The ID difficulties continued when I returned to work today. The Thames has a number of Black-headed Gulls on my patch by HMS Belfast, and they constantly deceive at this time of year. I’m forever spotting Little Gulls and Med Guls, but they always end up being bleached or moulting BHG’s. But today a Little Gull just wouldn’t turn into a BHG. The flying was consistently faster, and when it turned it seemed to flash some dark underwings. A clear-cut case one would think, but without binoculars it’s just so hard to be completely satisfied.

It seems I’m not the only one to have difficulty with ID’s. A Little Stint turned up at Lodmoor whilst we were in Weymouth. I decided not to go and drag the family round Lodmoor again, hence missing the opportunity to fail to spot that it was in fact this.

SWF

Dashed up to Hatfield Forest to see the Silver-Washed Fritillaries that are on the wing here in Lodge Coppice. There were a few records a couple of years ago that have mushroomed into people seeing ten plus butterflies.



I got a decent photo of a tatty male out of it, and if you were to look at my shot and some other folks visits then you might think the bushes of Lodge Coppice are festooned with SWF's sitting out in the sun waiting to be photographed. But they aren't. They were easy to see, but are strong fliers and seemed loath to settle. And I had the wrong lens - just a usual one, and my 100-300 mght have done the job better. Other butterflies - Peacock, Red Admiral, Brimstone, Ringlet, Gatekeeper, a blue, Meadow Brown, Large White, were out and some settled, but not so as I could get any decent shots.

After-work birding

As its midsummer and the days are long, I figure I should get out after work and see some birds. So despite the heatwave (mid 30s plus humidity) I get the subway to Davisville, walk a block south, and uncharacteristically for me find an entrance to Mount Pleasant Cemetery immediately. The cemetery is a beautiful, peaceful place. It’s like a large arboretum, with manicured lawns, tarmac walkways and some very lavish memorials. Its well used by joggers, cyclists, and dog-walkers, but being Canada they have the world’s politest dogs that trot by without fuss.

Its obvious from the outset that this will be hard work. The lawns are no good for birds, so they will be up in the trees. Being in North America the subconscious filter that in the UK means I don’t bother following up most bird calls doesn’t work, so I have to follow everything, and as soon as I see something I have my nose in Sibley instead of on the bird. Nevertheless, there are Black Squirrels, Grey Squirrels, and Chipmunks running over the lawns, and a handsome Robin allows close approach. This is very exciting until I realise that just about every bird that sits out on a tree-top, flies between trees, or bounds across the lawn is a Robin. By contrast a pair of Blue Jay’s come over to have a look at this curious visitor.

Following my birder’s instinct I head for an area with overgrown banks, and a ravine with a stream. However, I see nothing but a pair of Mourning Doves, a Red Admiral butterfly, some streaky finchey things in a tree and above Chimney Swifts whizzing round the sky and Ring-Billed Gulls drifting down to the lake front. I give up and head towards the centre of the cemetery and things pick up. Eventually I realise that the over-size chicken sat in a tree is in fact a Red-Tailed Hawk. Then on to the Eaton Mausoleum and at last I find a tree chock full with birds. There’s nine Robins, and a reddish bird that is a House Finch. There are two birds chasing each other through the tree, and I get a clear sight of it and it’s a slate blue back with an all white underside – White Breasted Nuthatch. A familiar type of call and a party of Black-Capped Chickadees move through. Back to the tree and picking through the various birds there’s a stunning Male Baltimore Oriole. The Nuthatch is back, but its got a deep rufous breast and a stonking eye-stripe – Red Breasted Nuthatch. I try to get a better view, lose it, and then find it again, but now its got a black back with fine white barring; Downy Woodpecker.

Its getting late, and as I don’t fancy spending the night alone in a park with a few thousand dead people I leave and get the subway back to Union Station, walk across Front Street and go and sit at the Sushi Bar in Benihana in the Royal York hotel. I have a couple of Asahi beers some Sashimi and Sushi, and write this.

Reggie the Hedgie

Elvis, normally a quiet well behaved dog, has recently taken to standing in various corners of the garden barking his head off. It took a while for the penny to drop - we have a hedgehog! Its only a small one - less than six inches long, and is normally to be seen curled up 6 inches from the snout of a barking dog, but once Elvis is removed he uncurls and waddles off.

The children were very excited to see a real live hedghog in their garden. The only other ones they had seen were on a road, and I think they had thought a hedghog was a flat dinner-plate shaped creature.

The excitment didn't last. They decided, strangely, that the hedgehog needed a name, whereupon the standard arguments started. D#2 decided it should be called Arthur. D#3 said no it was called Spike. D#1 said no I've already called it Reggie the Hedgie. D#2 said no that was stupid and it has to be Arthur. Meanwhile the hedghog had quietly waddled off into the undergrowth ..

some folks have all the luck

Graham Catley at the excellent Pewit blog is discussing his finding a Bonaparte's Gull and a Ring-Billed Gull on his local patch. He says finding rarities is "80% luck and 20% persistence". So I guess I'm just not very lucky.

But on further reading he says "have checked the gulls three times today", and then having noticed an odd bird writes "in the next three and a half hours it was asleep for 90% of the time".

Three and a half hours!!! Well, firstly I would have had just the one look through and found nothing, and then even if I'm with him at the start of his third look, its a good three hours after I've gone that he finally nails the bird.

So, as I suspected, its 50% skill, 50% persistence, and 0% luck.

I liked this

this sums up the joy of birding as well as anything I've come across.

Local Minsmere

Yesterday I commented that the local high ground "wasn't Minsmere". this morning I took elvis down the Stort Valley just south of Sawbridgeworth to the scrape. And it is quite like a mini-Minsmere.

There's a strip of land roughly one-field wide along the Stort Valley between Harlow and Stortford that is almost permanently wet. There are areas of reedbed, marsyh fields, a lagoon, and lots of rough fields and unkempt hedgerows. There is one reserve and at least two SSSI's. The land is not farmed with any seriousness, and is a guide to what the countryside may have been like a hundred years ago. you can see in the photo above a flooded rough field, and then beyond a field of Rape.

Today I stood on the bank looking into an open area of boggy willow scrub. A Grasshopper Warbler was singing out in the open in a Willow Tree. Behind me I could hear the low clicking of our resident male Garganey. It remains glued to a pair of Gadwall. the relationship seems quite a fractious one; the Garganey gets picked on by all the other ducks, and even in flight they seem to bicker and squabble, but its still here after a month so I guess that's how life is for a Garganey.

Otherwise there were Whitethroats in abundance, singing Lesser Whitethroat, Blackcap, and Sedge Warbler. 3 Jays, a Kestrel, a few Lapwings, a Bullfinch, and a host of other birds. overhead a few Swifts, a Swallow, and back in Sawbo a flock of about twenty House Martins