Author: martin

Today started with a mini-safari. Meeting at Church Point, the finer points of Black-headed and Mediterranean Gull identification were given a thorough going over as the flock of Med Gulls is still present on the beach. Up the coast and checking the pools, displaying Goldeneye were stunning, Herons were sitting around looking grumpy and a call from Sarah, who was surveying waders elsewhere in Druridge Bay, alerted us to a Barn Owl that was hunting in bright sunshine at lunchtime. As the tide fell we headed back down the coast, stopping to check the waders as they dodged the dog-walkers and settled on the rocks as they became exposed. Curlew, Redshank, Oystercatcher, Turnstone and Ringed Plover were all expected but three Purple Sandpipers were a real bonus. I still couldn’t convince Joanne that they are actually purple though…

After lunch we set out on a mission…to find the roost site for the Jackdaws and Rooks that we’ve been seeing on their evening flight-lines for a few months now. After mapping the directions of the groups of corvids, the roost site was predicted to be…exactly where we found it this afternoon! We also found the pre-roost site, a field where the birds gather in complete silence before flying into the main roost. As we drove around the opposite side of the wood we found another pre-roost gathering. So there’s another mystery to solve…why two separate pre-roosts? Are there two separate roosts in the same wood? Are there even more pre-roosts in the same area? Have we found a ‘super-roost’ of multiple roosts? As the sky suddenly darkened and the rain began to fall we abandoned our observations and drove home, planning our strategy for studying corvid roost behaviour further.

…well, I’m not sure really” We get a lot of ‘phone calls and e-mails that start like that.

“What Turkey-sized birds could be wandering about in Harwood Forest?” (We checked that report out with a visit to Harwood – remarkably the birds in question were, in fact, Turkeys).

Then we were sent a photograph of a Black Panther sitting in a tree, paw dangling down, looking for all the world like it was waiting for an unsuspecting rambler. (That was a stuffed toy, but posed very realistically).

“What’s this bird?” – nearly always a Chaffinch (they may be incredibly common, but if you’ve never seen one before then the psychedelic colours of a male are a bit of a shock).

“What’s this moth?” – these are usually something bright and eyecatching like Cinnabar or Burnet, but with 1000’s of species in Britain anything is possible.

“I’ve just heard a flock of geese flying over my house” (This call was a valuable one in our ongoing efforts to determine the roost sites of wintering geese in southeast Northumberland).

I love these calls. Each and every one of them means that someone has had an encounter with wildlife that has stimulated a desire to know more, leading to discussions about what it is, why it’s there, what it’s doing. When I left my career in chemistry and teaching in order to set up Northern Experience Wildlife Tours I thought I had a rough idea of how the rest of my life would pan out. I never realised the scale of the enjoyment that it would bring me though. Spending the rest of it talking about wildlife with journalists, clients, public sector bodies or people who just want to know what the ‘strange bird in my garden’ is really was a career move I will never regret. In fact, that was one of the comments that led to the existence of NEWT “Don’t regret the things you have done, but one day you may regret the things you didn’t”.

That’s what one of our clients today suggested was the reason we didn’t see an otter. Just before we arrived at our favoured spot, no less than 20 ramblers were there…watching an otter. It must have suffered a bout of stage fright because it had disappeared by the time we arrived. The howling southwesterly gale didn’t help either; the surface of the pond was whipped up into waves that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Hawaii 5-0 (if you’re younger than me you’ll probably have to google that). A lone Goldeneye was engaging in some half-hearted display and a flock of Tufted Ducks were looking very agitated before all scattering – with the rough water we couldn’t see what had spooked them. Back down the coast and a flock of Lapwings, Dunlin and Golden Plover proved rather captivating when viewed through the ‘scope as did a Curlew. Now that’s a bird I see most days but ‘scope-filling views of one feeding are still fascinating. Returning to Church Point at Newbiggin, the wind had now reached the point where it was taking the new beach and depositing it in the car park. Who needs expensive scrubs and exfoliants when you’ve got nature to scour your face to the smoothness of an apple? We headed home with rosy cheeks…

…and a Kestrel for a Knave”. So ends the poem in the Boke of St Albans. These are the two raptors that we see most regularly from our office and garden (although Buzzard, Goshawk, Peregrine, Merlin and Hobby are all on the list as well) but I never tire of watching them.

I’d just finished filling our bird feeders and, as usual, the Coal Tits had been sitting at the top of the apple tree and scolding me, impatient for the feeders to be replenished. I turned to walk back into the house, and almost every bird in the garden began alarming frantically. I looked back at the feeders, and felt the rush of wings as a male Sparrowhawk hurtled past me and into the tit flock. On this occasion he was unsuccessful, and perched on our fence as the garden emptied of birds; steely blue above, orange below and with a penetrating gaze from that orange-yellow eye – a male Sparrowhawk is a stunning bird. Not keen on being watched, he launched himself from the fence and away into the woods. 10 minutes later he was up over the trees with his female, both flying along with deep, slow wingbeats although not progressing into a full display flight. The serious business of breeding is still some way off but this semi-display isn’t unusual on bright days during the winter as the pair reaffirm their bond and their territory. It’s a real boost to see these birds because, as well as having the ‘presence’ that all raptors have, it shows us that there is a healthy population of small birds in the woods.

Long-tailed Tits have been one of my favourite birds for a long, long time. Almost undescribably pretty, these pink, black and white birds usually grace the feeders in our garden with their presence only once a week or so (not surprising as their diet is predominantly invertebrates) – at least until this winter that was the case anyway. Now they’re here every day, presumably because of the sharp frosts we’ve had which will be limiting their natural diet. Each visit doesn’t last very long, just 2-3 minutes. Peanuts and fat balls are their food of choice at the feeding station, and their already endearing appearance is multiplied as they all hang on the feeder at the same time; up to 8 birds on the peanut cage and another 7 or 8 on the fat feeder, a heaving mass frantically pecking at the food. Then, they’re off, all calling as they depart, and the feeding station is left to the Blue, Great and Coal Tits.

Today was winter bird race day. A simple enough task – find and positively identify as many different bird species as you can in one day in Northumberland. Teams have four members and three must record a species for it to be added to the list. Then, the day is rounded off with an enjoyable social gathering at the pub as each team declares their total for the day; what was missed and shouldn’t have been? what was found unexpectedly?

Our team had had no pre-planning or preparation so were weren’t exactly brimming with confidence. The tremulous hooting of (1) Tawny Owl at 07:00 and the flight calls of distant (101) Pink-footed Geese at 17:00 bookended our 2009 challenge, with gems such as Kingfisher, Nuthatch and Peregrine in between. Two teams failed to reach treble figures on a bitterly cold day when a lot of ‘easy’ birds didn’t appear on a number of lists, and the winning total of 113 (congratulations to Tom, Muriel, Neil and John) was 13 species shy of the Northumberland January record. Here’s to 2010 and the next one (of course there’s the May bird race as well, but that’s a very serious 24 hours of birding and a whole different kettle of fish).

New Year’s Eve was spent at The Swan, always an enjoyable location to see out the old year and see in the new and somewhere that we were given so much help and advice when we decided to start NEWT; it’s hard to believe that only a year ago we were yet to embark on the first Northern Experience Wildlife Tour. 1am on New Year’s Day 2009 saw me contemplating a glass of Malbec, a glass of Bushmills and a glass of Moet…9am on New Year’s Day, in contrast, saw me contemplating our 2009 wildlife tour schedule. Today we were back to what I enjoy the most, with a trip to Druridge Bay. A mixed herd of Mute and Whooper Swans allowed comparison between these close relatives and there was plenty of opportunity to compare the bills and behaviour of several waders (including Curlew, Redshank and Golden Plover) and ducks (including Goldeneye, Teal, Wigeon, Gadwall and Red-breasted Merganser). Participant descriptions of some of the birds were quite illuminating; “depressed” (Grey Heron) and “dressed for dinner” (Lapwing) are phrases that will linger long in the memory. Perhaps the star of the day was, again, an otter. Snaking sinuously through the icy-cold water, rolling on it’s back to feed, leaving a trail of fine bubbles while under the surface and, best of all, climbing out of the water onto a log and having a good stretch before looking straight towards us – while we were looking through a 60x eyepiece on the telescope. The best start to the year that we could have imagined, and hopefully a good omen for our upcoming otter safaris and Druridge Bay trips.

Another Otter Safari today and, as well as an Otter performing like a star in front of us (like yesterday, but today it was enjoyed through the delight of a 4-year old – who was very good at finding the otter when it changed location) we watched a swan soap-opera. At first the adults and their four cygnets were sitting around, not really doing much. Then another adult swan with one cygnet had the temerity to land on the pool. Both resident adults steamed across the water at great pace, wings arched in the menacing swagger of a mute swan riled, followed by the cygnets, all cheeping away – presumably the swan equivalent of “my dad’s bigger than your dad”. The interlopers flew off before any exchange of blows, and serenity returned. Then, unexpectedly, the swan family flew off – leaving one cygnet behind. As it swam up and down the pool, calling plaintively, the intruders returned…and the cygnet dealt with them by itself! As we left, the rest of the swan family could be seen on the adjacent pool – and we won’t know if they were all reunited until I check the site again (Friday morning on an Otter mini-safari – update will be posted on the blog as soon as I’m back in my office).