Thursday’s Druridge Safari was treated to much better weather than originally forecast. It was still very cold though so, when Friday’s forecast said it would be ‘noticeably colder’, I wasn’t convinced. First collection was from Church Point, where it was fairly overcast and not that cold. Then up to Amble, still not too cold, before making our way slowly back down through Druridge Bay. First stop was to check through a herd of swans in a roadside field. Everyone could pick out both adult and juvenile Mute and Whooper Swans from among the herd and we headed to Druridge Pools where Teal, Mallard and Wigeon were all very vocal and Goldeneye, Tufted Duck and Little Grebe weren’t. Looking across to the distant hills we could see clouds passing over them. As the cloud cleared to the east it was very obvious that it had left a pristine, fresh snowfall. By this time the clouds above us had cleared as well and the temperature had dropped considerably. Spotting a flock of finches flying across the road ahead of us I stopped so we could take a close look at the birds and check through for anything unusual. Mainly Linnets and Chaffinches, they fed close to the road, quite unconcerned by our presence. Then, there was a real gem; a male Brambling in amongst the flock. Eventually it settled on the barbed wire fence close to us so everyone enjoyed binocular-filling views. Flocks of Lapwing, Golden Plover, Oystercatcher, Redshank and Knot circled overhead, spooked by an unseen (by us, anyway) threat and a flock of Pink-footed Geese filled the air over a distant field. The waders picking their way over the rocks as we headed back towards Newbiggin included three or four Purple Sandpipers and there was great excitement amongst the group, seeing this arctic-breeding wader. Back at the Church Point car-park, the flock of Black-headed Gulls surely had to contain a Mediterranean Gull, didn’t it? It did, a stunning adult, sitting on the barrier in the middle of the car-park in the middle of a row of it’s commoner cousins. Fine ID details were studied before the birds took off and the Med really stood out with it’s ghostly white wings and it’s subtle, but obviously, different shape and flight. Seven days until our next Druridge Safari, but in the meantime I’ll be back there trying to get a prize-winning shot of that Brambling. We just need some snow to add to the ‘feel’ of the shot.
Blog
-
Sunbathing in January
I had a day at home today. The Landrover was in the garage having some minor work done so I had the opportunity to test my culinary skills (and the slow-cook function on our new cooker). Once the casserole was prepared, and started on the long journey to the plate, I decided that to make the most of the sunny weather I should set my camera up on the patio and capture the comings and goings at our feeding station. Blue Tits, Great Tits, Robins, Chaffinches and Bullfinches all performed admirably (I’m sure they were bemused as to why the man who usually just walks up to the feeders to fill them was sitting in a deckchair fully camouflaged…). Then, the moment I’d been waiting for, a Willow Tit; now scarce or absent throughout much of Britain, the best place I’ve found to watch them is my own garden. But I’ve never managed to capture an image of one before now. So scarce that a good friend of mine had seen nearly 400 different species of bird in Britain before he saw his first Willow Tit. Not only are they scarce they’re a real ID problem as well because of the very, very similar Marsh Tit. There isn’t a 100% foolproof way to separate these two species although there are some very good differentiating marks which, when combined in one bird, lead you to the correct identification. Ironically Marsh Tit is absent from our garden list but Willow Tit can be seen without having to wait more than about 5 minutes…which really makes me wonder about the field guide suggestion that Willow Tit is an infrequent visitor to feeding stations. Perhaps the authors were just looking in the wrong place?
-
Working apart…and together
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.
-
What’s in a name?
I have recently been dipping into an old book that a friend had given to me when he was having a clear out. The book, published in 1936 is called “Birds of the Wayside and Woodland” and is a fascinating insight into a bygone age and just reading it can transport me back through the decades. It does give a fascinating insight, however, into names and how they have changed. I was particularly reminded of this today when we were travelling down the A19 to take Martin’s grandma out for lunch on her birthday. We passed fields of pheasants, and usually you may not give this colourful game bird a second glance, but look closely and you will see wide variation. These birds, which feature in the Northern Experience logo, are really quite remarkable. Some of the males can be almost black in colour and some have vividly marked neck rings whilst others have none. My book gives some indication as to the reason for this under the entry for Pheasant. It refers to two species: the “Common Pheasant” Phasianus colchicus, introduced into this country centuries ago, and the “Ring-necked Pheasant” Phasianus torquatus introduced more recently. Of course, the pheasants that we see now are a mixture of various species and races and it is impossible to distinguish their ancestry. One of the distinguishing features of all pheasants, the long tail, does mean that the name is given to other species, colloquially, and I was interested to read in my book of “Reed Pheasant” and “Sea Pheasant”. I had never heard of these species before but, turning to the relevant pages, all became clear. They referred to Bearded Tit and Pintail, respectively birds of reed and sea and both with long tails. Whilst Bearded Tit is a rare bird in Northumberland, Pintail can be seen off the Northumberland coast in winter and is a spectacular sight on our Lindisfarne safaris.
Browsing through the book, I also got to discover some other local and now forgotten names for other bird species, for example ‘Black Curlew’ (Glossy Ibis – a rare visitor to Britain), ‘Common Bunting’ (Corn Bunting – now almost absent from Northumberland) and ‘Blueback’ (Fieldfare – a winter visitor from Scandinavia).
-
"I’ve just seen/heard a…
…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”.
-
An enigma wrapped in a mystery
Looking out of the office window I could see 6 bulky birds at the top of the Ash tree. They may have been silhouettes but they were clearly something out of the ordinary. Raising my binoculars (as crucial to my office desk as the stapler, calculator, in-tray…maybe even as important as my PC) the tell-tale mix of yellow-green females and red males with black wings and crossed mandibles gave the game away immediately; Crossbills. Wanderers from the conifer forests where they breed (sometimes during the winter when food is plentiful), and use those remarkable beaks to extract conifer seeds from cones, they have fascinating vocalisations, suggesting several different species that unfortunately look very similar. DNA studies seem to show that speciation occurred recently enough that the different species have near-identical genetic material as well. Enough to occupy most birders/ornithologists for a lifetime of study; that these birds graced my garden allowed me to think about ID, sonograms, speciation, irruption, conifer forests and how thoroughly amazing wildlife can be seen all around us.
-
Performance Anxiety
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…
-
It must be getting warmer…
…the sea’s starting to thaw.
It was our pleasure today to take award-winning photojournalist Lee Karen Stow on a tour of the north Northumberland coast. It really was so cold that along the Holy Island causeway there were extraordinary ice formations where the incoming tide had frozen. Patches of snow amongst the Spartina were an unexpected sight as well. As the tide approached, the wading birds were all frantically feeding and allowed a very close approach. Pale-bellied Brent Geese moved along the shoreline in rippling waves and Wigeon, Teal, Red-breasted Merganser and Pintail were all part of the wildfowl throng. Common and Velvet Scoters were alongside Slavonian Grebe and Common Eider on the sea, and Oystercatchers, Grey Plovers, Turnstones and Purple Sandpipers were gathering on the rocks as the tide lapped up. After a warming lunch of soup and a sandwich we headed south, looking for flocks of birds, gathering together for the night. Pink-footed Geese and Whooper Swans were feeding in roadside fields and a mixed flock of Whooper and Mute Swans made a precarious landing on the frozen pool at East Chevington. Further south, at Cresswell, waders flocked together in the middle of the frozen pond and ducks hid amongst the reeds. A mass of Wood Pigeons swirled overhead, and as we headed north again towards Alnwick a corvid roost of Jackdaws and Rooks was gathering. Amazingly, as the birds assemble in a pre-roost on the ground, all is silent, but as they move off towards their night time tree-top roosts they chatter loudly, no doubt informing each other of the day’s adventures. As night drew in we all thought of warming mugs of tea and coffee, warm slippers and a good night’s sleep.
-
Pillow talk
05:55. Another 5 minutes until the alarm goes off, but we’re already awake…and in the churchyard across the road so are the Tawny Owls. This morning it sounds like a very clear territorial dispute between 2 males. Each tremulous hoot was answered by another bird slightly further away. Listening to Tawnies is one of the great pleasures of life – whether it’s the birds in our garden, the ones that start their nightime serenading while we’re out checking our fox and badger sites, the one that usually starts our winter bird race list or the male that on a May bird race responded to an imitation of it’s call by flying in to investigate and perched on a horizontal branch just above head height and only 20m away from us. Although the ‘ke-wick’ and ‘hooo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hooo’ calls are typically given by the female and male respectively that isn’t always the case; the male uses the sharp contact call and the female can hoot, although it’s much coarser than the resonating beauty of the male’s song.
Easy to hear, but difficult to see, although in May our Kielder trips will include a demonstration of Tawny Owl chicks being ringed (when there is a brood of the right age). In the meantime, why not listen near your local woodland and enjoy the aural world of the ‘Brown Owl’?
-
"A Sparrowhawk for a Priest…
…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.