Blog

Every day when I’m at my desk at dawn or dusk, I get to see the movement of lots of birds. Thrushes and Woodpigeons roost in the woods that I can see from the window and, each evening, as light levels fall, small groups of Jackdaws head north, no doubt to a sizeable roost with Rooks, their baggy-trousered relatives. In a morning though, it’s noticeably different as a group of about 200 fly rapidly past my office window in a fairly tight flock. If I could follow them what would I find? Do they all descend on one feeding area for breakfast, then gradually disperse throughout the day before re-assembling at their night-time roost? Do they always head to bed when light levels reach a certain point? Do they feed in pairs? (Not such a strange question, even in the winter groups of Jackdaws soaring around over streets and houses can be seen to consist of discrete pairs). They are such fascinating birds, dapper grey and black with that curious, intelligent look in their grey-white eyes. The way that all of the Jackdaws along the chimney pots of a row of houses call in response to one of their number calling as it flies over was a revelation when I first heard it. Perhaps best of all anyone could study their habits; they’re common, they associate with human habitation and they’re here all year round.

No, not a homage to Newcastle United – although many of my birding friends may worship at the altar of St James’ Park, my best mate is a ‘boro fan and I’m a lifelong tiger, but a thought about how we perceive the world around us. We were out today and the low cloud base turned our normal colourful world into a gothic horror; skeletal bare branches reaching skywards, adorned with the horror film silhouettes of crows, rooks and jackdaws. Stripped of colour and texture it was a world of form and contrast aligned along the greyscale. Even Roe Deer were reduced to just a differently shaped shade of grey against the background of the grass, and the shades of the distant, and not-so-distant, hills revealed perspective in the colourless panorama. Shapes, shades, interleaved, interlinked, interlocked.

…or magical memories? Earlier today I had a long, and very enjoyable, chat with Iain Scott of Enterprise Island. I was fortunate to be a participant when Iain and his team brought their own particular brand of inspiration to Wansbeck in October last year. It’s a good job I didn’t have a blog at that point in time…

When Iain called, I’d just spent the entire morning writing Christmas cards…one of the occupational hazards that you never get warned about. In truth, as I wrote each card, memories came flooding back from the last 12 months; advice, support and help from other businesses and the support agencies in our area, cold, exhilarating boat journeys across to the Farne Islands, the day my Goretex jacket finally gave up any pretence of being waterproof, new-born seal pups, sceptical 10-year olds, endearing Red Squirrels, enchanted 10-year olds, majestic Peregrines, tiny babies too young to appreciate what is around them (in the world that will one day be theirs), sinuous Otters, retired or semi-retired couples with a remarkable connection to the environment, swirling Starlings. Actually, all that writing isn’t a hazard, it’s a joy – because all that we do is a thread that is weaved into the fabric of the world. I know that I won’t be able to watch a glistening Grey Seal pup emerging into the hostile environment without momentarily returning in my mind to other times when that happened; vivid memories of people and places, and the experience that connected us all with Northumberland’s wildlife.

The ground was covered in frost, like a dusting of icing sugar. The frozen puddles mirroring my footsteps and my breath condensing in the icy air. As I walked through the ethereal cloud I half imagined that it was going to freeze on my head and face, coating me with the same hoar frost that gave the pathside bushes a magical air.

The pond was covered with birds, and in the calm of a cold winter morning the calls of Teal, Gadwall, Mallard, Goldeneye, Shoveler, Wigeon and Mute Swan (yes, that’s right, although their vocalisations are quiet, if you are lucky enough to be close by, you realise that they are really quite conversational) layered the soundscape that makes these experiences so relaxing.

Then, a sudden frantic departure from one corner of the pond…and I re-focus my video camera to the now vacant area of water. A few Teal and Mallard are still half-hidden amongst the poolside vegetation, surely they haven’t overlooked the danger that scattered all of the other birds? They soon realise that it’s time to go as an otter bounds along the bank before sliding into the water. Bobbing to the surface like a corked bottle, gliding with menacing intent or rolling on its back and looking like the cutest animal on the planet, nearly an hour passes while I’m absorbed into watching one of my favourite predators doing what it does best. A handy raft covered in vegetation provides the ideal spot to tidy itself up after dinner, before slipping back into the pool. I leave, with face frozen, fingers and toes numb but heart pounding.

That was the title of the talk given by Roy Dennis at last night’s indoor meeting of the Northumberland and Tyneside Bird Club. A really entertaining talk covering, amongst other subjects, radio-tracking, migration and translocation projects. Roy was also selling, and signing, copies of his new book with the same title. The lecture theatre was as full as I’ve ever seen it; but you wouldn’t expect anything else with a high-profile speaker talking about raptors. At the North Terrace after the meeting Roy was chatting with a group of us about topics as diverse as Honey Buzzards, Hobbies and Pine Martens and the potential of Northumberland to hold breeding Ospreys and White-tailed Eagles. Hopefully it won’t be another 15 years before we have the opportunity to hear him speak in Northumberland again.

The first copies of Birds in Northumbria 2007 were also distributed at the meeting; it’s a very high quality annual report and first impressions are that the production is even better than in previous years. The quality of image reproduction in particular stood out. Congratulations to Ian Fisher and Steve Holliday who have the often thankless, and not necessarily enviable, task of editing it.

Well, it’s now 8am, there’s a heavy frost, the bird feeders are full and I’m away out to get some fresh air…

After I raised myself from my sick bed, Sarah suggested that some fresh air might do me good. So. I found myself as a passenger in Sarah’s car as we headed up to Druridge Bay and the potential of filming a Starling roost. As it happened the birds were very compliant, swirling backwards and forwards in ever-increasing numbers before they funnelled down into their night-time abode. Even better, as I was filming them I became aware of a movement low to my right…and then a Stoat ran straight over my feet! but before I could angle the camera downwards it had vanished through an obvious run in the hedge.

Then, after a visit to our friends Beth and Sharon at Holistic Harmony in Ashington, we were on our way to the Discovery Museum in Newcastle and a book launch. Mike Pratt is Chief Executive of the Northumberland Wildlife Trust and his first book ‘Wild’ has just been published. A very enjoyable and inspiring launch party saw Mike reading chapters from the book. I can’t say more than go out and buy a copy…it really is very good. So much of Mike’s reading struck such a chord with my own experiences that I could picture myself in those same situations.