Hidden treasures

One of the delights of local birding is that it encourages you to haul out the OS map and scour the local area for likely places to find birds. It's amazing what you can find virtually on your own doorstep when you do.

The first place I found is a little patch of field, covered with wildflowers and surrounded by hawthorn scrub, a small wood and a farm pond, all within 150 yards of my back garden. I was faintly aware of it already, but I was encouraged to explore it a bit better when I heard one night from my garden the sound of a Cuckoo. Sadly I couldn't track down this distinctive summer visitor (all too rare these days) but I did enjoy a lovely half hour stroll finding Whitethroat, Willow Warbler and Swallows in abundance, plus a nesting Moorhen on the pond.

Secondly I took a short trip to Cubbington Wood, a small but attractive area of mature woodland not five miles from my house. It appears to be maintained for nature by far-sighted private owners, and they also allow public access. Again, nothing spectacular or rare emerged, but Buzzards, Yellowhammer and Swallows filled the fields around it, while inside the wood itself we found a good range of woodland birds including Chiffchaff, Treecreeper and a Nuthatch feeding a juvenile bird.

ps. An additional note. I returned to Cubbington Wood a few week's later with a very experienced birder of my acquaintance. I thought I had given it a pretty good going over, but the list of birds he helped me find was phenomenal. Those that I had missed on my own visits included: Lesser Whitethoat (a lifer), Spotted Flycatcher (5 of these uncommon birds in all, I've only ever seen 1 before!), and Marsh Tit.

Three seasons?

Birdwatcher's have different calendars to normal folk (with all the dawn starts they tend to have different body clocks as well, but that's a different post). For us and the birds we watch, spring starts early, often in January or February. Then, in what for other folk is the dead of winter, we hear the first stirrings - Song Thrush singing or Great Tits with their distinctive "teacher, teacher" call. Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, our Swallows and warblers are getting ready for their marathon journey back to Britain.

By April they're back (the earliest of them since March), and the breeding season is in full swing. By the end of May, there are chicks everywhere, and while spring isn't quite over, it is drawing to a close. And after spring? Why, autumn of course!

This is an interesting view on how birds view the passing year, one I have just discovered hidden in the pages of Simon Barnes' book How to Be a Bad Birdwatcher. The theory goes that birds have just three seasons. First you have spring, with its breeding and the raising of young. Then follows autumn, in which strength is gathered and reserves built up - and possibly a migration is made to wintering grounds. And then winter, a battle for survival through to spring, when breeding can start again.



Well, I don't know how birds view the world or the seasons, but I do know that in common with most birders, spring (however defined) remains my favourite time of year. There have been no posts here since April because whenever I have had spare time, I have birded. I have seen Dippers, oh-so-elusive Wood Warblers and (my first ever) Tree Pipits in Yorkshire. I have found my first patch wader, a Common Sandpiper along Leam Valley, and I have enjoyed almost daily all of our spring visitors - including some favourites such as Willow Warbler, Chiffchaff, Cuckoo, Swift, Swallow and House Martin, Whitethroat, Garden Warbler, and, as photographed above, Reed Warblers, wonderfully elusive little birds of reed beds with endless chirping little songs that always remind me of summer - because actualy, no matter what birds or Simon Barnes may think of the seaons, for me at least, summer is just about here.

April is a splendid month

Whatever T.S Eliot may have believed, April is a truly splendid month. In March, we are still so close to winter, with every day carrying the threat of cold, wet or both. Each and every sign of spring is greeted with delight, as if we can't quite believe it is all going to happen again. By April, we are much more relaxed about everything. The bulbs are up, the migrants are returning, and the cricket season has started again (although that, ironically, is when the snow tends to come back for one last appearance).

Sadly, I've been working through most of it. There has been birding of course - Leam Valley has its Chiffchaffs back, Draycote Reservoir is awash (or so it seems) with passing Little Gulls, and at Minsmere, the internationally renowned RSPB reserve, I enjoyed Sand Martin, Whinchat, Sedge Warbler and Avocet - all signs that summer is on her way back.

For dull and technical reaons, I haven't done much photography of late, but this little smasher was one of two Little Ringed Plover at Draycote on April 24th. The picture may not be the finest, but the bird is undeniably beautiful.



ps. If any birders are reading, it would be remiss of me to mention the Minsmere trip without mentioning Dartford Warbler and Med Gulls - both lifers for me - and Cetti's Warblers - not lifers, but the first time I have enjoyed uninterupted and close-to views of this little smasher.

Spring update

Just a quick update on the progress of spring birds in Warwickshire. I popped out yesterday to Brandon Marsh, a well-known local reserve, and spent a few hours soaking in the sights and sounds.

Chiffchaff sang loudly from everywhere - I estimate six in all. A few migrants waders had dropped in - Redshank and Oystercatcher were there yesterday (hopefully the latter will breed there successfully like they did last year). And last, but definitely not least, 15 or more Sand Martins fluttered quite high overhead, hoovering up the first of the spring insects.

If you're reading this in Britain and it's still spring, go for a walk in the woods. I insist. I promise you won't regret it.

The arrival of Spring

Now is undoubtedly my favourite time of year bar none. By Easter weekend there are signs of Spring everywhere - bird song, buds on trees, daffodils and crocuses, a hundred lawnmowers going in every street. The only difficulty is being torn between the garden and birding - happily this weekend I have managed to fit in a lot of both.

In the garden, the beds have been dug through, plants moved, new beds dug out and planted, the veg is in, the lawn scarified, and everything looks ship-shape ready for the growing season.

With birding, I am a little less up to date. Already the first return migrants are in the country (and indeed in this county) but I am yet to connect. Chiffchaffs, Sand Martins, Wheatear and assorted waders have come back from Africa and are being reported all over the place, but here on my patch of semi-rural land near Leamington Spa, Spring is breaking out in infinitely more subtle ways.

Sky Lark and Meadow Pipit are trilling their songs high above the farmland. Cock Yellowhammer are singing in all their mustard finery. And everywhere birds go two by two - my best sighting of yesterday being two Tree Sparrow within a kilometre of my home. These wonderful little farmland birds seem sadly to be in long-term decline, so any sighting these days is enough to warm the heart. These were my first ever in Warwickshire, so fingers crossed for a successful, and fruitful, pairing.

Birds are like buses?

Typical. I run around like a madman for three months trying to find Waxwing. When I finally find some (see below) I have a fab day photographing and enjoying these little marvels.

And then, just two days later, I'm just about to get into my car after a client meeting in Lichfield when I'm struck by a familiar sound. I look up, locate the source of the sound, and there are 25 Waxwing staring back at me.

Like so many things in life (such as waiting for buses), therein lies the mystery of it all. Often you'll not see a bird for weeks, months or even years. And then, once you've seen the first one, you'll be bumping into them for weeks to come.

Mind you, no complaints where Waxwing are concerned. Here's a couple more photographs to enjoy while I'm on the subject.

The elusive Water Rail

The Water Rail dwells in reed beds, making it elusive at the best of times. Unlike the (perhaps a little similar) Moorhen or Coot, it generally eschews human beings, making it a hard to find bird unless you know the right spots.



One such spot is at a local nature reserve in Coleshill. Having not caught up with a single Water Rail for more than 18 months, I finally found this 'bogey' bird there last weekend. Not as hard as it sounds, mind you, because this bold bird is rather partial to feeding off scraps beneath a bird table.

Perhaps not as satisfying as watching one creep tentatively out of the reeds, but after so long without one, beggars really can't be choosers.

Waxwing in Warwickshire

This is a bit of a technology experiment, as well as being a post about some very exciting birds.

The birds? Well, after weeks of 'dipping' (a twitchers term for going looking for a specific bird and not finding it) I finally found Waxwing - loads of them in fact. A flock of this Siberian winter invader were at a nature reserve near Coleshill and at last afforded me the chance to take some pictures and simply enjoy the spectacle of these pink, crested and utterly unique birds.

And the technology? Well, this is the first time I've managed to get two photos into the same post. Probably won't mean much to you, but it's a major triumph for me and should help streamline the site in future.

Waxwing in Warwickshire 2 

Grey Heron 

Grey Heron - photography

OK, so this is starting to look like an obsession. That's three times I've posted on the subject of Grey Herons this month. But although I don't actually have an obession, there is plenty to be said in favour of the humble Grey Heron.

First, they are relatively common. Second, they are relatively large and easy to photograph. And third, when you get it right, they are absolutely stunning.

I think this is the first time I've got it right.

Not just birds

The enduring appeal of birdwatching for those who love nature and natural history is partly that birds are so visible. Brightly coloured, reasonably sized and present just about everywhere you go, bird are easy to watch (at least in principle - try telling that to a birder who's just spent six fruitless hours in sub-zero temperatures trying to find a rare warbler or other LBJ (little brown job) lurking in the undergrowth!)

But once you spend any time birding, you begin, albeit slowly at first, to notice the other natural phenomenon around you. The trees, the wildflowers, the insects (whether biting you or not!) and , of course, the mammals. Mammal are endlessly fascinating to watch, as the enduring popularity of Big Cat Wildlife on One type programmes proves. Sadly, in Britain at least, they tend to be small, secretive and often nocturnal.

So each mammal encounter is special, and I have been lucky enough to have some wonderful moments watching them when out birding. Hares can be found near my house and at this time of year they are particulary exciting - breathless chases across fields, tumbling fights, lunacy of the highest order (Mad March Hares in fact). Watching an otter walk across a frozen pool at Minsmere in Suffolk is a particularly cherished memory.

And then, a few days ago, while enjoying a stolen moment or two out birding on my local patch, I came across a fox at closer range than ever before. As I watched a Moorhen on the local river, I moved by binoculars slowly upwards and there, staring back at me was the fox, just 10m or so away. I froze and we watched each other intently. As he looked away, I moved my tired arms, but froze again as he turned back. We continued this performance for five minutes or more before he finally got bored and trotted away into the undergrowth. Throughout the whole encounter I was staring deep into black eyes, watching that gently curving white patch around the mouth, and thinking to myself that this animal had a face which looked much more bear-like than its canine ancestory would suggest! Whatever it looked like, and from whatever it descended, it was part of yet another magic moment while out birding.

Winter on a Scottish coast

A trip to Edinburgh presented a perfect opportunity to catch up on a few seabirds at nearby Musselburgh. The snow had almost vanished, the north wind dropped and the sun even came out as we enjoyed a genuinely thrilling day birding.



Alongside a whole host of wading bird (such as Curlew, Oystercatcher, Bar-tailed Godwit, Redshank, Dunlin, Grey Plover and Turnstone) I also encountered several 'firsts' for me. These were a Red-throated Diver, several Slavonian Grebe, a flock of Velvet Scoter and some spectacular Long-tailed Ducks.

So much in fact, that I barely knew where to look first, and I was so busy that photography was the last thing on my mind for much of the time. Having said that, I did manage the odd shot. Above is a male Eider duck, a thing of real beauty. There is much to be said for local patch birding, but the occasional long-distance trip can expand one's birding horizons like nothing else.

The Grey Heron - familiar magnificence

The Grey Heron is a familiar bird on most kinds of water - whether it be river, stream, pond or lake. As with so many birds though, don't let its familarity blind you to its magnificence. As the following photo montage shows, not only is it a huge bird, but as it takes flight it takes a whole new form - am I alone in thinking dragon-like?

Grey Heron taking wing

Patch birding - some photos

These are a few of the birds I saw on my local patch over the weekend. Not the actual birds I should stress, because I didn't have a camera with me. But rather photos of the same species I have taken over the previous few weeks.

Clockwise from top left are a female Sparrowhawk, a Long-tailed Tit, and three Goosander (although these are 'redheads', females or juveniles, as opposed to the adult male I found on the River Leam on Sunday).

Great patch birding

Although I do a lot of my birding by travelling to well-known nature reserves, I spend more and more time these days exploring my local patch - the area of land to the East of Leamington Spa in which I happen to live. It's a good patch with a nice mix of habitats - the River Leam, some flood meadows, woods (although not much mature woodland), mixed farmland, a canal, open parkland and some other open areas.

By focusing on watching my own county, and my own patch in particular, I have a much better chance of finding 'my own' birds, as opposed to joining many other birdwatchers seeing the same birds at a small number of very well watched reserves. I find that prospect quite exciting.

By staying away from local reserves and focusing my efforts elsewhere, in the last week I have seen 56 species in all, including the following: Pintail, a Peregine Falcon, Jack Snipe and Common Snipe, Red-Legged Partridge, Goosander (on the River Leam!), Green Sandpiper, Yellowhammer, Sky Lark, Willow Tit, Nuthatch and Kingfisher. Not all of these arerare by any means, but they were all a joy because it was me who found them (albeit with a very experienced companion on one trip - thanks Jon), and no one already knew they were there.

And that's what patch birding is all about for me.

Chaffinch - February at Draycote

This is a Chaffinch, a photograph I took last weekend at my local reservoir Draycote.



Sometimes I post because I have something to say. Sometimes I do it because the bird in question might be a little unusual. In this case it's a very common bird indeed - along with the Wren it is almost certainly our most common resident. I posted this simply because I love the photo - and I'm sure it doesn't do any harm to be proud once in a while. Does it?

Slimbridge - One man's vision

Slimbridge is owned and managed by the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust, the creation of Sir Peter Scott. Sir Peter, the son of 'Scott of the Antarctic', was a visionary naturalist and conservationist who devoted his whole life to the cause. Slimbridge in winter stand testimony to that cause.



It is a wonderful place, full of waders, raptors, wild geese and swans, raptors and wildfowl - such as this Pintail, captured in all its glory with a Pochard (itself quite beautiful) in the foreground. I commend Slimbridge to anyone with an interest in nature - armed with a pair of binoculars I defy anyone not to love it.

Not always finding what you're looking for

One of the joys of birdwatching is that although you don't always find what you might have been looking for, you nearly always find something else wonderful. This day at nearby Draycote Reservoir was a case in point.



There had been all kind of rare(ish) birds reported - divers, Smew, Scaup and Scoter to name just a few. I went in search of them, but of course found none. But while sitting there in silence at the water's edge, this Wren popped up on the rocks, allowing me the few minutes required to sort out my camera gear and get an all too rare snap of this common, but elusive, little bird. Brilliant. Oh, and I found the drake Smew shortly afterwards - even better. Sadly, too far away for a decent photo, but take it from me - absolutely exquisite.