Under attack at Chalkney Wood.

I was attacked today, dear reader, physically attacked by a relentless and determined assailant. 

I went with Dave to Chalkney Wood in search of Butterflies. We have Hatfield Forest close too, but that's a lot of walking in the heat, and Chalkney offered a chance to see all HF can offer and more for an extra half-hour drive and without even leaving the car park. At my age, that's no contest.

Dave has given an excellent write up of the session here and provided some wonderfully spectacular photos. Purple Emperor, White Admiral, Silver-Washed Fritillary, a Hairstreak sp (for me), Painted Lady, and Southern Hawker. 

But it was as we returned to the car park the assault took place. We saw a Purple Emperor low down round some nettles, and to my surprise and joy it flew towards me, and kept coming, and kept coming, until it buzzed me just overhead, the noise of the wings clearly audible, then returned and buzzed me again, then did this again.

There is no doubt isn my mind this was deliberate. It wasn't just passing close, it was clearly having a go, possibly not liking my movement in its territory. Nevertheless, it was quite an experience to be that close to a Purple Emperor!

One of David's photos from his blog. Found by David quite low down, we got excellent views of the purple sheen as it opened and closed its wing.

Minsmere mid summer

15th July and the first visit this Covid-hit year to Minsmere. Our hopes of sunshine for the insects had disappeared under a forecast of cloud and wind, and we were without Dave due to injury, so feeling a little glum to be without a team member. Still, here Mike and I were at my favourite reserve. 

If, reader,  you are Dave, you didn't miss much mate. It was cloudy and windy, so zero insects, and the birds were nice but just the usual. No point in reading the dull details. Best to stop here and go and get a cup of tea. 

If you are not Dave, Wow! What a day! The fun started on the North Wall when a look up an open ditch revealed a hind Red Deer and a fawn. Here in their natural habitat they grow larger than they do on the hills of Scotland (apparently), and this hind was huge; nevertheless it slipped into the reed bed and disappeared.

Down the beach with Common Terns like a swarm of super-size flies buzzing low over us, then straight dow to the South Scrape public viewing platform to see if the long-staying Roseate Terns were around. They weren't but we had c20 Little Terns, 3 really smart adult/2cy Little Gulls, and a few Sandwich Terns. A fellow birder pointed out 3 Arctic Terns loitering on the mud. I think of these as having grey-breasts and short legs, but in reality that's Common Tern. Arctics have really deep grey breasts and absolutely tiny legs. Also could see the small-dagger shape bill in comparison to Common. Nice - can't rely on seeing these annually in the absence of being able to pop down to a suitable reservoir and string see them in Spring. Also Spotted Redshank, Black-tailed Godwit, Avocet, c20 Dunlin, a Turnstone, and Mike had a brief view of a mini-wader, probably a Little Stint. We searched, but could not relocate. Oh and a few Barnacle Geese too - nice easy year ticks these. Of course they are wild.

Back up to East Hide, and the full glory of the breeding bonanza was in front of us. C200 Avocets including chicks, Common Tern chicks everywhere, some Ruff, more Spotshanks and Blackwits, and tucked in a corners a Green Sandpiper.

Round the remaining hides, back to the car park for lunch, then out to Island Mere. 2 Hobbies gave a hunting display dashing across the mere - surely one of the best wildlife sights available anywhere, a couple of Marsh Harriers, then on leaving a Great White Egret flew past. On to the Bittern Hide, and from our elevated viewpoint an actual flying Bittern and more Marsh Harriers cruising the area.

Just time to return to South Scrape to see if the Roseate Terns had reappeared. Scan their favoured island in the southern corner, and what's this? Two light-pink flushed breasts amongst the mass of Sandwich and Common Terns? pale ivory-grey backs - check; all black bills - check; bright red legs - check; metal leg-ring - check. OH MY GOD Mike! Mike! THEY ARE HERE! We spent a good half hour plus marvelling at these beauties. Slightly bull-headed, a funny trotting walk, and really quite aggressive - one bird chased off the Little Gulls. We put some others onto them (between the Little Gulls and the Arctic Tern, yes that's it, with a Med Gull just behind it). Whilst we were revelling in these birds Mike spotted 2 Spoonbills flying in to join the third one just in front of us (What? How does a Spoonbill slip in near to you unnoticed?). They fed, pecked, argued, generally gave a great display, then flew up to the East Scrape, then West Scrape. 

After an hour or so when we admired a summer-plumaged Sanderling, another Ruff, and the various waders, we realised we couldn't find the Rosy terns any more so we set off back. Just a quick look off the beach at all the terns, a couple of littles in there with their much faster wing beats, then another tern with a faster wingbeat, not a Little Tern, all black head and bill, and smaller and paler than the passing Commons - we'd found another Roseate, presumably one from the scrape.

It's not just the breadth of species, its the scale. Minsmere is full of people just out for the day, or who bird watch occasionally, and why not? An obsession with lists, rarity, and species count can blind one to the spectacle, both visual and aural, of a mass of breeding and post-breeding birds. Being on the platform on the south scrape is like being a kid in a toy shop; fantastic birds wherever you look. Both variety and quantity. Just an unbeatable place when it is on form like this.

Putting the band back together at Hickling.

With jabs done and Lockdown easing it was time to get David out to join me and Mike for a day out. The always excellent and informative Birds of The Heath had reported a veritable smorgasbord of mediterranean rarities at Hickling, so we decided to head there for a change. I'd had a brief visit in 1984 before news of a candyfloss-pink Ross's Gull at Twitchwell had us running for the exit, so this was effectively new territory for me.

A pleasant surprise was how good the roads were until a few miles from Hickling. Apart from the 20 minute wait for road-works, at which inevitably no-one was working. The less pleasant surprise was the bright warm sunshine of Hertfordshire had been replaced with a sea fret of dull, cold, and drizzle.

We got the list rolling with a tick-and-run visit to the Roller at Icklingham. A UK lifer for David, barely a week-old repeat tick for me. Then Hickling and a walk out to Stub's Mill along Brendan's Marsh. This was pristine wader habitat, and delivered with 2 Black-Winged Stilts, 2 Wood Sandpipers, 2 Green Sandpipers, a calling Greenshank and a multi-coloured collection of Ruffs in addition to the resident Avocet, Redshank, and Lapwing. the Swifts and Hirundines swooping over the marsh were joined by a Hobby belting through. We reached Stubb's Mill and had two Chinese Water Deer to add to our list - a lifer for me - and 2 Spoonbill in the waterlogged wood.

Back to the centre and round the reserve path. Slower going here - no sign of the breeding Cranes, and unsurprisingly the Swallowtail butterflies were keeping out of sight too. We had Marsh Harriers food-passing, a male Marshy over our heads, then a Cuckoo working its way through the reeds, and a fly-over Great-White Egret. Back to the View point along the road on the eastern edge of the reed bed overlooking the marsh, and here finally we had the Stilts parading around in the open with those ridiculous outsize kinked red legs. We added Dunlin and Little Ringed Plover to the list, found a further 3 Spoonbill to bring our tally to 5; quite a bit of flapping, flying, and preening from these fantastic birds. A flock of waders over was 5 Curlew and two noticeably smaller birds allowed us to add 2 Whimbrel to the day list. 

And that was it. Any disappointment we may have had from the weather and consequent lack of insects was outweighed by the sheer relief of being out with great company enjoying good birds. The time spent at the view point with mediterranean birds visible amongst a wealth of waders and associated waterbirds was just exceptional birding. Will take quite something to beat that.

My year-list now stands at 148. I find, given constraints and ambition, that a target of 200 works for me. Much more than that and I would need to be out much more and much further afield. A look through the list and I think with a decent second half I can still make 200. A great start today. Can't wait for the follow up maybe next week. 

That's not a Wood Pigeon! Twitching in Kent

Collared Pratincole. Cliffe. Been there a week or so. A suitable gap appeared in my schedule so I set off and arrived in sunshine just after 10 to find loads of cars already on site but the car park just opened, largely empty.

The walk down to the pools was to a soundtrack of Lesser Whitethroats and Nightingales and a pair of noisy Mediterranean Gulls high overhead,  Returning birders recommended good if intermittent views from the path by the Flamingo pool so I headed down there and found myself alone looking north towards the black barns where through the scope I could see a couple of throngs of birders, mainly on their phones. The target bird clearly not showing yet.

Whomever was going on about disappearing insects on the radio recently clearly hasn't been to Cliffe. Swarms of flies were all over the place. If Kent is the garden of England, The Cliffe peninsular is the messy bit behind the garden shed. Clearly more insects were out over the pools and estuary as Swifts were present in number.

A scan of the opposite crowds revealed a change in their behaviour, all were looking west, so I tracked back west and there it was, all swept back wings and pointed tail, like a large brown swallow hawking over the pools, a bird of considerable grace and style. A species I haven't seen since sometime last millennium in Kos. 

It disappeared. By that time a few birders had assembled, and we chatted as birders do, exchanging local information (Yellowhammers disappearing in east Kent apparently. Like Hen's teeth. Still common on my side of the Thames). Then it was back, and we watched it perform again. It favoured the far bank of the pool and whatever it was that was just over the hedge. I suspect the crowds at the Black Barn didn't get much better views. We filled our boots with prolonged if distant views of the bird in flight hawking over the pools. 

It was very relaxed overall. Most people seemed to be back for their second views. Nice easy birding, and when it eventually disappeared out of view I'd had my fill and it was time to go. One said 'When we saw it we thought - well that's not a wood pigeon!' which tickled us all, particularly me given the number of times I've seen distant rarities that eventually turned out to be wood pigeons, or Stock Doves'

On returning home I got the spreadsheet up to add the Pratincole to my British list which now stands at ... well, I'm not going to put that out here, with you lot reading it. It is embarrassingly low. Looking through the list of recent additions I was surprised at how little the birds meant emotionally. Good days out, but not much more. I mean I'm glad I went and saw it, but that Lisbon trip a couple of years ago definitely knocked my perceptions - because there are bucket loads of UK rarities available in number on just one morning's trip out from any southern European city or town. 

Us men need a stage, a place where we do our thing and say "This is me, this is what I do, if you are going to judge me, judge me on this." For some it is twitching. See how many birds I can tick if I put all my effort into it! But my subconscious seems to have decided twitching is not the place I make my stand. I can take it or leave it. I had a nice morning, but if I hadn't seen it I'm not sure I'd have lost much sleep over it. 

Rainham Marsh on Grand Opening Up Day.

Monday 17th May. A day for the ages. A day when we take another step to freedom.

Unfortunately no-one seems to have told RSPB Rainham Marsh. The gate was closed. Mike was following so I texted to say go to Coldharbour Lane / Ferry Lane at the west end of the reserve.

From Ferry Lane a quick scope scan along the shoreline produced an Avocet, a couple of Redshanks, 4 Dunlin and a year tick in the form of a Great Black-Backed Gull. A couple of Common Terns went by on the river.

Then up to Serin Mound. A photographer said he'd had a Gropper up there - needless to say we didn't - but we did get a male and a female Marsh Harrier distantly, and a Heron being bombed by a Lapwing.

There was a large creche of about 30 Canada Geese chicks still at the fluffy stage. But elsewhere there were families of just a few chicks. Mike thought from previous reading that the creche was the offspring of first year female Canada Geese and they were being looked after by old Geese. So the other families were more experienced breeding geese looking after their own. That would make sense. 

A Cuckoo called. My experience is to look for a prominent high point to find it, and bingo there it was on top of a large bush. Excellent views. The effort these birds put into calling is quite noticeable. 

The air was full of gulls and Swifts, and amongst them 2 Hobbies cruising around. We got a great display form them as they stooped and chased. One was bringing its claws up to its mouth in flight so I guess they were finding some insects to feed on. 

Bumping into photographer again and he mentioned Wheatear and Corn Bunting from the grass-covered landfill mound. Back we went but before we got there another Wheatear along the river wall scrub. It went round a bush then completely disappeared. Anyway on we went, and after a lot of scanning found a Corn Bunting and indeed heard it singing, and another Wheatear briefly popped up.

That was it. A decent total despite, or perhaps because the reserve itself was closed.

Things you only say on local patches

Walking your local patch is a very different experience to doing a day trip to a hot spot. Unless your local patch is a hot spot, which mine isn't. Here's some things that I say to myself on my local patch walk but not on a big day trip.

1. Reed Bunting. Fantastic. What a bird a spring male is. I'll take 5 minutes to have a good look.

2. That's 4 Song Thrushes. Perhaps that's 4 pairs.

3. House Sparrows in the bush by the bridge. Just like last year. Guess they'll breed then disappear again.

4. I wonder what species that hoverfly is.

5. Please God just something for the list. A Whinchat, a Wheatear. Just something I haven't seen every day for the past month.

5. I wonder where those gulls are going.

6. What a great bird a Grey Wagtail is. I can see every feather.

7. six Swifts. That's an excellent total.

8. Little Owl not in its tree again. Wonder where it goes.

9. Bullfinch calling again. Not visible again.

10. That's 7 Whitethroats singing so far, and 3 Chiffchaffs.

11. Lapwing. Fantastic. Great record. At last something for the notebook. 

Going Dotty at RSPB Frampton Marsh

 'Normality' is slowly returning, and part of that is trips to star spots without having to pretend its on my way to work, or I have any reason other than wanting to go and see some birds. So, Frampton Marsh, with Mike travelling separately and later.

The formula for a good day is to get the target birds, in this instance Dotterel, on the list as soon as possible, then just relax and enjoy the wildlife.  So how did that go?

Helpful locals directed me to the SW corner where said star bird was loafing around in the company of a few Golden Plover on the wet farmland that constitutes the SW portion of the reserve. As I approached everything went up, and a small plover amongst the Goldies was clearly it, so, Dotterel on the year list. 

Mike had arrived and gone to the sea wall. I texted the Dotterel had flown in his general direction, and when I finally got one there he directed me to some Golden Plover on the ground with an accompanying wader. They were asleep and some way off, hence only limited views were available. I must admit, I knew the Dotterel was not a full adult female, but I hadn't expected it to look so plain, the eyestripe so dull, so like a Grey Plover. Mike was circumspect about it but I was happy to tick it.

We went up the  sea wall taking in the mass of birdlife on both sides. Ruff were everywhere with the majority males in their summer finery. Honestly worth going just for these birds, but in there too were masses of Blackwits and Avocets, with Ringed and Little Ringed Plovers and a few Dunlin mainly in winter, and then two Spotted Redshanks. One was dusky, but the other jet black apart from the spangling on the back. If you showed someone all the waders apart from Spotted red and asked them to guess what the last one looked like, no-one would ever guess all Black. Just an outstanding bird. 

We carried on round, battered briefly wind rain and hail, and had the first of 5 Whimbrel on the sea-ward side. We looked hard for the Black-Necked Grebes but couldn't locate them, and later learned they may have departed as regular scrub removal may have made the habitat unsuitable this year. 

Back to the centre, a pair of unseasonal Goldeneye flying past, and then back down the main path. A warden summoned us over and showed as a Blue-Headed Wagtail giving outstanding views. The warden thought it may have some Channel Wagtail in it as it was paler than a previous bird, but to me was a classic Blue-headed; blue-grey head, face and nape, thin white super, slight white in the sub-ocular patch, white chin. My first since, ummm, well some time last century.

The fun didn't stop there. We were told a Jack Snipe had been seen yesterday right in the corner of a lagoon close to the road - and there it was, bob-bob-bobbing. Then back on the sea wall, a fellow birder shouted 'look - Whinchats!' as two Wheatears landed in front of us. I would find it a laughable mistake if I hadn't myself done the same on a couple of previous occasions. These birds were males, but sandy on the back and very bright vivid peachy/orange on the breast, making confusion on a quick view easy. Maybe Greenland birds?

We had lunch well satisfied with the haul, and decided after lunch to walk the southern wall as Mike was keen to get a better view of the Dotterel still having doubts over the first non-definitive view. We duly had it pointed out to us, and there it was, with a patchy pink breast, large well marked scapulars, and a stonking eye-stripe. Ah. Clearly the bird I had seen earlier was not this! I think best described as a learning opportunity. We carried on round adding Hare and Roe Deer to the list, a few more Whimbrel, then from the sea wall Mike picked out a Pale-Bellied Brent Goose amongst several hundred Dark Bellied Brents, and that was it apart from repeat sightings of a pair of adult Mediterranean Gulls, which might be the same ones, or not.

A fantastic day. Not just the species, but the numbers. 40+ Ruff, similar numbers of Yellow Wagtail, 3 species of hirundines plus Swift, Sedge Warblers everywhere, The constant noise of breeding colonies.

It takes a few goes to get comfortable with a place. To know the spots to go, the paths, where to stop and watch, how long to allow for, how to pace the visit. This was my third trip to Frampton, and I finally feel I'm getting to grips with the scale of the place. And what a place, simply crammed with birds.

Given the nature of this year, plenty of year ticks. Not just Dotterel, but Dunlin, Ringed Plover, Spotshank, Whimbrel, Ruff, Brent Goose. And Grey Plover, I'm having that too.

Year-listing in the Brecks

 Like many of you, three months of house arrest has left my year list in need of some TLC. Where better to start than The Brecks. I'd seen a few tweets from people calmly announcing their fantastic day totals, so ...

First stop Santon Downham. Out of the car along the track toward the LSW site, and as hoped there was Woodlark and Tree Pipit, and a male Stonechat atop a tree. Under the railway line and then some magic in a small clump of willows. These willows are over a water-filled ditch, and finches come down to drink using the willows as perches and cover. Lesser Redpolls were here in beautiful pink. When birders came by I counted 18 fly out. Lots of Siskins around and a familiar 'chip' as 2 Crossbill flew by. 

I passed a woman with a camera who didn't seem to have much clue about the LSWs and got to the site. Not seen since 7am. I gave it a while, got Nuthatch and Treecreeper for the day list, then headed back behind another watcher who had given up too. He fiddled with his phone and the call of LSW rang out. 'Oooh LSW!' I said in mock surprise at his bird-call app. He turned round and said oh you heard it too! He hadn't been fiddling with his phone at all. It was indeed the actual bird! Confirmation came at the lady with the camera who had seen two birds briefly. Clearly more clued up than I. 

On to Lynford Arboretum. I had been told Firecrest was breeding in the car park. No sound or sign of it so I decided on the out-fast strategy, whereby I go quickly to the extent of my walk and come slowly back. No sign of the Brambling at the feeders, or Hawfinch or anything much, but on the way back by the bridge a familiar faint high-pitched 'zziiziiziizii'. I gave it a few minutes and the bird revealed itself - a male Firecrest. Back to the gate for the finches and yet again 'zziizziizziizzii', and yet again male Firecrest low down, giving a shiver as it sang, fantastic. So, in little over a hundred yards three Firecrests (including the ones in the car park seen by others). It may be that the prime Firecrest trees are all down this drive, or it may be that this species is now widespread in this area.

Quite pleased with actually seeing these in tall pines; I think with Firecrest they don't ever stop moving, so if you hear one just keep looking until you see a movement and then close down on the area until it appears. And both were lower down than I expected.

I mentioned it to an old chap, and immediately he had the expression of 'thanks but the days of my hearing Firecrests have long gone'. So I carried on whilst having this sick feeling I was telling him what he was no longer able to see. How long before that is me, watching silent flocks of tits and crests?

Anyway, back via Lakenheath I thought as there were Arctic Terns on the wastelands yesterday. The sat nav took me past Weeting and a couple scoping the field opposite, so a quick pull over and Stone Curlew is now on the year list. Then Lakenheath RSPB and up to the washlands.

No terns, but plenty of Avocet and Black-Tailed Godwit. A kingfisher appeared in the near corner perched on a reed stem, and behind it a pair of Garganey swam. Then distantly amongst some feeding Redshank, a small wader. Distance and heat-haze made ID difficult, but narrowing it down, smaller than Redshank, white underneath, brownish above, longish needle bill, some bobbing but not a lot, quite slight, walking around in vegetation and muddy fringes, I found myself thinking Wood Sandpiper, but it wasn't possible to get closer as on walking round to get closer the edge it was on became hidden by vegetation. So it will have to go down as wader sp. I mentioned it to a couple of RSPB people, both of whom said they would tell someone else. Maybe someone will be able to get up there for a better view...

And that was it. Fantastic. Just nice to be back in a place with loads of birds, to be surrounded by the constant noise of flocks of finches. And to get some decent ticks too. 

Goldies

Despite the lack of posts I have been birding these last few months. Quite frequently. It's just been a bit ... well, you all know.

Anyway, some decent report from the high ground west of our village, and a promising wind/cloud combination, so I met up with Mike at the local cemetery and headed up to the 'hills'.

Mike had seen a few hundred Golden Plover from a local lay-by, so we were on the look out and soon a flock was seen in the air, about 160, wheeling away. They came down just over the brow. We carried on, and on gaining a vantage point we looked but could not see them. We carried on along the ridge with the soft piping still carrying on around us, and then I noticed in the ploughed field next to us a wing, briefly raised. 

We scanned, and there, about 70 yards from us, were Golden Plover. Almost invisible, their brown mottled backs perfectly matching the ploughed field, and the ridges and furrows meant quite a lot of backs just visible. But clearly, there was the flock, and as we scanned, the flock went on and on. 

We counted, compared, counted again, blocks of 50, blocks of 10, and together with the ones we had seen go down behind us came to our final total. 880. 

A spring Golden Plover is something to behold. That bold black underbelly, neck, and face. There were a few like that. Amazing, that here in rural England a bird as spectacular as this should be in our fields. What spring birding is all about.

Local lore has it that there always used to be flocks of Golden Plover up here, but now they've gone. I would contend that there were sometimes flocks of Golden Plovers up here, and there are still sometimes flocks of Golden Plovers up here. Particularly in hard weather, or in spring and autumn migrations. But this was without doubt the biggest I've seen. If I'm blessed with longevity and still here in ten years, someone will mention Golden Plover and I'll casually drop in the day I had a flock of 880 birds. And the memory of scanning across the flock, the birds lifting their wings, softly piping away, with a dash of jet black bellies, will come back.

Apart from that it was, well, when there is nothing on the high ground, with its expanse of precision-tilled fields and field edges of uniformly constructed ditches, there really is nothing. We managed 2 pairs of Grey Partridge, 4 Red Kites, the odd Yellowhammer and Meadow Pipit, and a couple of lingering flocks of Fieldfare. Make a note. Might be the last this spring.

I got to wondering how many other species in this area could muster nearly a thousand birds. I would guess Wood Pigeon. Maybe Jackdaw. But then what. A thousand wrens? Almost certainly no. My patch walk has never got above 20. House Sparrows? I'd be surprised, the colonies are discrete and well spaced. Really cannot think of any other species that could challenge that number. So, today, Golden Plover, possibly the third or second commonest bird species in the area.

In Tiers

This is my local park. It might seem a dull shot, but contains something quite exciting. We are in Tier 4. Full Lockdown. But the horizon, those trees, well, that is Tier 2. Freedom

I think I can make it there and back in day. In tier 4 I am permitted exercise, but once I'm over the border I could wander freely without restraint. I could even go into a pub for a substantial meal. 

The main issue is the border guards. Maybe I should take some high status goods; toilet roll, or dried pasta perhaps, in case I'm stopped.

Patch latest

Dropped D#4 off and went for a short walk round the patch. The valley is flooded; water running over the top of every bank construction and lock and off into the fields. This usually happens a couple of times each winter. The path is nevertheless still walkable but I need to take a short diversion. A couple of Bullfinches call unseen, and the hazel and hawthorn scrub sounds like it is heaving with Redwings chattering away, with the odd one flitting across gaps. Along the river bank and I can hear a Water Rail in the flooded rushy pond opposite, and a Teal calling, but can see neither. 

Birds that aren't corvids or pigeons are fairly scarce until I get past Feakes Lock, where as I chat to a house boat owner struggling with his craft in the current of the river in spate a female Sparrowhawk shoots past and a Little Egret lifts from the damp field opposite.

Up the path into the chat field and a distant Stonechat appears fleetingly. Local Stonechats are a subject of some discussion; a local birder/photographer posted a picture online and stated that a couple of pairs winter regularly in the valley and another pair on the tops. Well, that's not my experience; early spring and late autumn passage, and the odd one appears here and there in winter, but not a banker by any means. Nevertheless, a December Stonechat. Lets see if it hangs around ...

Stop at the top of the field and take a call from Mrs D. She's taken the dogs for a walk, so I should extend my walk as I came out without a key. As I finish the call there's a gronking - Raven! A pair fly over, one settles in a tree, and the other flies around, goes quite close to my house - maybe one for the house list eventually - then after a few minutes cruising around heads off towards the willow bed in the park. It's a first for my patch for me, but not unexpected as they have been seen increasingly in the area. What a huge bird it is, and is the 91st species on the patch year list.

Another patch tick is just a few yards on - Sheep. A field full of them. The local farmer is always trying new stuff, always with an eye for nature, so will be interesting to see if they pull any birds in. Carry on round the outside of the field and two Green Woodpeckers fly off and 20 Goldfinches feed in the sun on the teasels in the overgrown field.

Up and over the road and onto some more traditional farmland. Two fields both hold about ten Skylarks, one has 5 Red-Legged Partridges, and there are thrushes flying around, including 30 Fieldfare some of which settle close. Multi-coloured, flecked, large; if you saw pictures of all the other European thrushes and were asked to guess what the remaining one looked like, you'd never guess Fieldfare. And that evocative shak-shak call, always a thrill to hear. Even after 40+ years of birding I still can't quite believe that Fieldfares exist, and not only exist but are common enough to be regular on the patch and elsewhere.

A few Yellowhammers and Chaffinches around the hedgerows, a Bullfinch goes over calling, then back down past the farm and under the railway. The Stonechat has moved up toward the overgrown pond and gives some nice views.

Back across the river, stop to see some Long-tailed Tits. Perhaps a Treecreeper keeping them company? And yes there is, almost as if I've willed it into existence. I spend a few minutes watching it run up the underside of branches, pick around bark. Always a good day when you see a Treecreeper.

And that's it. Another cracking list for a couple of hours walk out of the house. And that flood - Lets keep an eye out and see if as it slows and settles some wildfowl come in. This year I've relied a lot on the patch, and it's really delivered.