A Yorkshire break (and a 'bogey bird' breakthrough)

Our latest family weekend in Yorkshire afforded an unusually high number of birding opportunities i.e. more than none.

The first of these unexpected opportunities was at Hellifield Flashes, a typical moorland wetland not half an hour from where we were staying. Having persuaded a reluctant child that a short walk might be in order, I was able to enjoy the spectacle of hundreds of birds gathered round this modest pool - plenty of wigeon, teal, pochards, lapwing, common and black-headed gulls and greylag geese, and then, with closer inspection, a group of nearly 50 snipe, easily the largest flock I've ever found.

That was pretty good, but the next evening I was even more excited as I first heard, and then saw, a tawny owl dashing through the woods as I stood contemplating the night sky. Embarrassing though this is after so many years of birdwatching, I had never until that moment clapped eyes on a wild tawny owl (heard plenty of course). So although it was a pretty sketchy view in the dark, that has to go down as a lifer, and one more of my embarrassing bogey birds dealt with.

Finally we dropped into Brandon Marsh on our way home - nothing spectacular, but a really good volume of waterfowl, including notable numbers of shovellers. A couple of kingfishers flashed past and my weekend was complete (unless you count waking up on Monday morning to find a great spotted woodpecker on my neighbour's feeders, that was a nice start to the week).

Bird of the day: Tawny Owl (Strix aluco), a fairly common resident bird which is made somewhat harder to see by its pretty much totally nocturnal habits. Your only chance of finding one in daylight is to find it roosting, and in many years of birding I've not managed that yet. A shadowy glimpse with two calls to verify will have to do for now. Photo courtesy of ClifB on Flickr -

http://www.flickr.com/photos/11444813@N03/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

Stonechat at Leam Valley

Tit flocks are an under-rated feature of autumn wildlife watching. Perhaps it's the name - it's hard to explain this point without someone cracking a smile, if not a nudge-nudge-wink-wink comment. Know what I mean?

Still, the fact remains that while the headlines are grabbed by the rare passage migrants (yesterday's glossy ibis in north Warwickshire for example) and the new arrivals that will stay through our winter (the redwings, fieldfare, siskins and so on), the coming together of the various tit species into sizeable foraging flocks can be a spectacular sight.

This morning's birding at Leam Valley was initially saved by one such flock. It had been a woeful start. There were isolated common species here and there around the reserve itself, but really nothing of note - not helped by the extremely low levels of water on the scrape. But as I left the reserve and headed just a hundred yards or so into the Offchurch Bury estate, I walked underneath an oak tree and was suddenly surrounded by scores of birds.

It was a fantastic flurry of colourful activity, blue tits, great tits and long-tailed tits all together, and I stood there for perhaps 15 minutes, enjoying the spectacle and trying to grab the perfect picture (as you can see, I failed). Such was my enjoyment that long-tailed tit looked a nailed on certainty for my coveted 'bird of the day' title - until, that is, a Marsh Tit turned up, a fairly rare sight round these parts. I had a new 'bird of the day'.

So there I was, my day salvaged and about to turn for home. When...

A stonechat! An actual female / juvenile stonechat sat high on a hedge not 20 yards away. Not rare in birding circles of course, but bloody rare on my patch - in fact it has been top of my patch wish list for five years or so! A quick and distant photograph for the record, and my morning was complete. A decent haul in the end included sparrowhawk, green and great-spotted woodpecker, 40 fieldfares (my first big flock of the year) - and when I got home, I found two coal tits on the feeders as well. 30+ species for the morning is a pretty good local haul.

Bird of the day: Stonechat (Saxicola torquata), an upright little bird, slightly smaller than a robin, which loves to show itself from handy vantage points. The male is striking in red, black and white - my female was a little more subdued, but still a lovely little bird.

Napton shines

Today at Napton was more like it - half the temperature of a few days ago, but infinitely better visibility, and many times more birding enjoyment.

Up on the hill I immediately heard, then saw, a raven - mobbed by a carrion crow until the raven finally grew bored and headed away to the east. Soon afterwards, four fieldfare flew by, my first of the year. Elsewhere I found more redwings, blackbirds, a pair of meadow pipits and a female blackcap.

Down at the reservoir, a pair of Gadwall were all that was new on the water. But the fields around the edges were stuffed full of birds - male yellowhammers bright in the sun, meadow pipits all around, a small group of dunnocks moving through the hawthorn, and big numbers of skylarks either singing in the autumn skies or chasing each other low over set-aside fields. The mute swan in the main photo wasn't the bird of the day, but he was the photo of the day as he passed low overhead not once, but twice (just as well, the lens cap was on first time around - smooth!).

Bird of the day: Raven (Corvus corax), the largest of our crows, a truly massive black bird, notably larger than a buzzard. Once confined to Wales and the north, its range is starting to spread east, meaning it is by no means uncommon in Warwickshire these days.

Aha, migration (but where are the rare ones?)

Determined to find the latest arrivals to the area, I headed up to Napton-on-the-hill for a thorough look around - if anywhere in my patch has a record for early / interesting migrants, it's there.

So I arrived at dawn, then scoured the area around the church, the track to the windmill, the embankment, the fishing pools, the quarry and the scrubby woodland. The hour was right, the season was right, what could go wrong?

Well, thick fog for a start. I could see little, and hear even less. Nothing, apart from a very occasional robin and one Mistle Thrush, moved or sounded from 7.30am until 9am. That was 90 minutes of not very much (the deer aside, which nicely broke up the monochrome monotony - anyone know what type it is?)

Still, things livened up a bit from 9am, and I settled in near some berry-laden bushes and watched as first the blackbirds streamed past (20+) and then a similar number of Redwings broke cover and headed across the hill. So, nothing rare, but there they were - the first real evidence of mass migration on my patch this year. And as I left (the sun finally bursting through, typical) I saw one last hurrah from the old guard - a swallow doing two laps near my car before heading off south. Good luck my young friend, see you next year I hope.

Bird of the day: Redwing (Turdus iliacus), a small thrush and one of our earliest mass migrants, visiting us from Scandanavia every winter. Beautifully marked, particularly around the face and eyes.

Migration fever (must be happening elsewhere)

I thought the brisk NW winds might have brought something fresh to my local patch. I was wrong.

Napton Reservoir was quiet all around. The butcher's who manage it have managed to hack back every single bit of vegetation around the small pool at the entrance (see photo, left), so that was understandably empty. On the two main pools there were about 70 Coot, a dozen Mallards, 5 Tufted Ducks, a pair of Great Crested Grebes with three juveniles (one adult with a particularly vigorous appetite, see photo), a couple of Moorhens and a few Black-headed Gulls. The only thing of interest was when four Wigeon briefly dropped in.

Around the edges there were Goldfinches and tit flocks aplenty, a pattern continued when I trecked up to Napton Hill for a look-see. Certainly nothing rare or migrant-y - the highlight here being a Buzzard which made a low pass as I headed back to the car.

And the less said about Ufton today the better.

Bird of the day: Wigeon (Anas penelope), a beautiful winter duck, the male in particular having striking plumage.

An away day at Rutland

Oh, it doesn't get better than this! A day off work meaning a third consecutive day's birding - what an indulgence.

So, with Draycote and Leam Valley covered on Saturday and Sunday, and everyone else in the county now squabbling over a big twitch (Aquatic Warbler in the south of the county), I decided to leave them to it and head out of the county. Having weighed up the relative merits of Slimbridge and Rutland Water (both about 90 mins away, one south west and one east) I settled on the latter in the hope of some good passage waders.

And it was pretty good from the word 'go'. I arrived to be told that four Whooper Swans had dropped in overnight, and there they were, right in front of the visitor centre. Not exactly lifers, but the one I had previously seen always seemed a bit doubtful to me, so it was good to bag four absolutely stone-dead legit birds (non-birders might be wondering how a swan can be anything less than legit - sorry, it's a long story).

Also on that first lagoon was a Black-tailed Godwit (with another five spotted in flight shortly after), a Ruff (distant views from here, much closer a little later on), plenty of Egyptian Geese, Little Egrets and Cormorants, and some Lapwing, Green Sandpipers and Redshanks here, there and everywhere.

Moving on to the next lagoon, I was ecstatic to lock straight on to an oncoming raptor - not only was it a Peregrine doing a low pass in front of the hide, but it was playing with / sparring with a Hobby as well. A real result - although I watched a Peregrine in Derby city centre just a few weeks ago, I never see enough and they must be a contender for one of my favourite birds. And as for a Hobby - I'm not actually sure I've seen one at all this year (a sad state of affairs indeed).

Elsewhere I found a small flock of Golden Plover, a male Pintail and a few Shelduck - none of them rare, but none likely to turn up on my patch too often. And to cap it all, I could add Kestrel, Buzzard and Sparrowhawk to the day's sightings, meaning I had seen five raptors in all - there aren't too many days that can be said.

Bird of the day: Whooper Swan (Cygnus cygnus), a large white swan with a distinctive yellow wedge of colour on its black bill. A spectacular winter vistor.

Patch treasure - Green Sand and Red Fox at Leam Valley

Back on patch this morning, and feeling much better for it - what a great return to Leam Valley.

Over the years I've grown really fond of this local patch of river, wood and scrape, and it's never more beautiful than early on an autumn morning as the mist lays on the flood plains across the river.

It was quiet at 8am, with even the birds only just starting their day. At first there was just a little Robin song here and there, but gradually the Blue Tits, Wrens and everyone else joined in. As I strolled along the river I startled Moorhen after Moorhen - five in all - and Carrion Crows, Rooks and Jackdaws started to cross hither-and-thither overhead. Half way to the hide I had my first real magic moment - a Red Fox just across the water from me. I froze, watched it pounce unsuccessfully, and then moved into position for a photo. It heard the first shot, turned and looked at me, gave me a great second shot, and then it was off into the undergrowth.

As soon as I sat down in the hide and looked out over the low low water and shallow pools, I knew I needed to leave quickly. Not because of any problem, but because far away to my left I could just make out a wader - I needed to get down to the viewing screen to find out what it was! I half-walked half-ran there, waders being a rare treat indeed at Leam Valley. And there, nice and close was a Green Sandpiper - a migrant I had long hoped to find here, but never had. A Leam Valley tick and a patch tick to-boot. Hurrah.

From then on the birding was great. A pair of Teal nosed around the end of the scrape, a flock of Long-tailed Tits flew past and around me, and Jays busied themselves with their acorn storing. Down at Offchurch Bury weir there was at least one, possibly two, Grey Wagtails, a cock Yellowhammer in all its glory, and a Kestrel being persistently mobbed by a Jackdaw. Finally, as I left, a Chiffchaff sang loudly (and a little unseasonably) from trees near the golf course.

Only 28 bird species (plus a fox), and nothing of spectacular rarity. But still my perfect morning's birding.

Bird of the day: Green Sandpiper (Tringa ochropus), a distinctive, contrasty bird (dark on top, white below) and a classic migrant / winter wader.

All quiet on the Draycote front

I'll keep this brief. Got up, went to Draycote, walked all the round with scope, 'pod, camera and all, got... precisely bugger all. Well, pretty much bugger all anyway - I suppose the exercise will have done me good.

Bird-wise it was one Common Sandpiper at Rainbow Corner, four Lapwings around Tofts, four or five Yellow Wagtails along Farborough Bank, a pair of low-flying Great Spotted Woodpeckers belting past me on the road by Biggin Bay and pretty much sod all else (to be fair, I am excluding large numbers of Pied Wags, Coots, Tufted Ducks, Little and Great Crested Grebes, Mallards and Teals).

And the only other thing worth mentioning was one sighting I really didn't need - a fisherman who decided to walk from one side of Tofts Bay to the other via the shoreline of the conservation area. Funnily enough that made a quiet sit in the hide a great deal quieter as all the birds quickly buggered off. Smart work Einstein.

Bird of the day: Erm, Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopos major) at a push. A striking bird and always a pleasure to see, but it really shouldn't be a highlight in the middle of autumn migration :-(

Pectoral Sandpiper and 'barwit' at Draycote

A superb morning's birding.

First of all, Draycote's latest star attraction - a juvenile Pectoral Sandpiper - did the decent thing and hung around long enough for me to see it. Despite having been there since Monday, it showed no signs of being in any hurry to move on, and was there to greet me at 7.15am (my earliest start in quite a while). I watched this smart little American bird on my own for quite a while before moving on as the number of birders, and the inevitable photographers, started to grow.

Up at Tofts Shallows there was little to add apart from a solitary Common Sandpiper, so I headed off to Hensborough Bank, my other 'best guess' for a good place for autumn waders. On my way round I found plenty of Yellow Wagtails, a juvenile Shelduck that crossed low over the water, good views of a pair of Meadow Pipits, a Green Woodpecker, hundreds of low-skimming House Martins, a Yellow-legged Gull, and plenty of other diversions. But the wader count looked set to disappoint as Hensborough turned up nothing but a pair of Lapwing.

However, I set the scope up near Rainbow Corner for a final scan, and instantly locked on to a distant godwit - bar-tailed as I worked out through closer examination. So I set myself down on the wall, and waited as it worked its way towards me along the waters edge. Great views of a super wader, and one (I later learned from my records) that I have never seen before in Warwickshire.

With a lifer and a county tick already under my belt, I headed off to Brandon to see whether yesterday's Osprey had hung around. It hadn't, which served me right for trying to push my luck.

Bird of the day: Pectoral Sandpiper (Calidris melanotos), a scarce passage migrant from America or Siberia. To be honest, I enjoyed finding and watching the 'barwit' more, but the Pec's rarity wins the day and secures it my coveted 'bird of the day' award! I've linked my poor picture (it was early and quite dark) to a better set of photos taken by proper bird photographer Steve Valentine so you can see what it looked like. The larger barwit photo is all my own work though, as are all the others (I particularly liked the three Snipes posing on an otherwise quiet morning at Brandon).

A Mersey surprise

A city break in Liverpool afforded us the opportunity of a quick dash up the region's bountiful coastline.

We arrived at Crosby Beach (home to Anthony Gormley's art installation Another Place) at high tide, and watched for half an hour as the tide turned and flocks of Redshank, Dunlin and Knot started to gather on the exposed flats.

A quick dash up the coast then took us to Formby, a beautiful stretch of dunes and pine forest with a real star turn - Red Squirrels. I have been to favoured locations for this rare, and endangered, species before and always drawn a blank. With just half an hour to spend at Formby I wasn't at all hopeful. But as I stood in the car park with a cup of tea in hand, I heard high pitched squeals I didn't recognise (always a good sign), looked up, and there were two Red Squirrels bouncing through the tree tops. Hurrah - instant success and good views. If only it was always like that.

Mammal of the day: Red Squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris), the 'classic' British squirrel now sadly decimated by disease, habitat loss and competition from the introduced Grey Squirrel.

Hawker at Home

I arrived home tonight to find this beauty patrolling my drive - a Southern Hawker (unless someone better than I on the subject of dragonflies needs to correct me).

A fabulous thing to find outside your back door - not rare but dazzling nevertheless. To quote the Warwickshire Dragonfly group's website: This is a widespread and common species. It is enterprising and often visits gardens to mature and breed in quite small garden ponds.

Insect of the day: Southern Hawker (Aeshna Cyanea).

Ch...ch...ch...ch...changes

The changes in the weather which had brought in one lot of migrants (at Draycote, see previous post) had also encouraged a lot of other migrants to take the next step on their journeys south. So when I arrived at Brandon on Bank Holiday Monday, there was frankly little to see.

The view from Carlton Hide was desolate. Just mud, water, a few Teal, some Stock Doves in the trees and a line of bored photographers all praying for a Kingfisher. Teal Hide revealed some juvenile Moorhens, and River Hide was no better. Where were all the sandpipers (common and green) and the Greenshank which had been reported all last week?

Sadly now gone, so even the main East Marsh Hide was quiet - the resident waterfowl, plenty of Lapwing, a Kestrel hovering overhead, a line of Black-headed Gulls and... bingo, the flash of yellow leg that revealed the final gull as a Yellow-legged Gull. Not a rarity perhaps, but a scarcity, and enough to salvage a desperate days birding at Brandon.

Bird of the day: Yellow Legged Gull (Larus michahellis), only recently recognised as a species in its own right, rather than a sub species of the Herring Gull. They are the same size as Lesser Black-backed Gulls, and adults have darker grey backs and wings than Herring Gulls, but are paler than the lesser black-backs. The real giveaway (if you are able to catch a glimpse of them) is the bright yellow legs (a Herring Gull has pink).

Autumn birding back on patch

The weather has changed - still pleasant enough, but notably cooler and breezier. That means changes in the local birding.

I went to Napton and then Draycote Reservoirs on Sunday morning to see that for myself. Napton was v. v quiet - just Tufties, Coots, Moorhens, a few Great Crested Grebes (along with three juveniles) and the odd Mallard here and there. But Draycote had some of the birds I was expecting to mark the real start of autumn passage.

First were the Yellow Wagtails, perhaps six or seven dotted around. Then I found one of four Wheatears which had been spotted - these little bouncing birds are a real favourite of mine. In the muddy banks of Tofts Bay were a pair of Common Sandpiper, and all over the water were big flocks of Swallows, House Martins and Sand Martins, gathering to begin preparations for their long migrations south. A Lesser Whitethroat completed my birding morning, although I reportedly missed a Whinchat by not many minutes.

Back in the village, I was later treated to great views of a Sparrowhawk as it flashed around the gardens and houses, startling everything including our last remaining House Martins.

Bird of the day - Wheatear (Oenanthe oenanthe), a colourful little bird with a bright white rump, similar in lots of ways to the Whinchat I enjoyed so much last week.

About the Broads

A family holiday in the Norfolk Broads provided a few opportunities to slip out birding - and turned up little when I was expecting it, plenty when I wasn't.

Oulton Broads is on the southern edge of the Broads, virtually on the border of Suffolk and Norfolk. With several members of the family having hired the Albion for the week (a traditional Broads wherry), we got ourselves a chalet nearby and headed down.

The area is beautiful, the weather was fine, and around and about us I saw several Hobbies flying over and heard Bearded Tits 'pinging' in the reeds near the Albion's mooring (sadly it was too windy for a chance to see them).

A trip to Minsmere was more than a little disappointing - conservation work in progress meant virtually nothing on the main scrapes (why don't they close for a day a week like they used to?). I did manage to find a few things including a dozen Black-tailed Godwits flying over, but overall the trip was the poorest I've yet made to this normally great reserve.

Which made the next day at Snape Maltings so much the better. Initially a family / shopping trip, it transpired that the RSPB has bought land there and is planning on managing it for nature. I joined the guided tour and was thrilled to find a pair of Whinchat, my first for a long long time, and easily my best views. Unexpected birding is always the best.

Bird of the week: Whinchat (Saxicola rubetra), a lovely little upright perching bird with a broad creamy stripe above the eye - definitely don't see enough of them round my way!

Brandon by bike (again)

Another fantastic Sunday morning cycling to Brandon Marsh. There was plenty to enjoy on both legs of the journey - Buzzards calling, Yellowhammer song, a Great Spotted Woodpecker, Greenfinches all around, and various unidentified forms of fungi and flora.

Once at Brandon I braved the onslaught of shutter noise in Carlton, in an ultimately fruitless wait for a Hobby to turn up (still none this year). Better luck as I left the hide though, as a female Sparrowhawk made a low, showy pass. It was probably her partner who put the Lapwings to flight shortly afterwards on East Marsh Pool, in turn allowing me to notice the Black-tailed Godwit which had been feeding among them. How does a wader that large hide for so long.

And along with that very satisfactory birding (also including Sand Martins, Common Terns, Oystercatchers, Redshanks, Green Sandpipers etc), the place was alive with butterlies - these photos of a Painted Lady, a Comma and a Peacock being just three of the lovelier specimens on show.

Bird of the day: Black-tailed Godwit (Limosa limosa), a tall, long-billed wader with a distinctive red body and striking white wing bars and rump when in flight. Shouldn't have taken me half an hour to find really.

Cycling and birding - it just works

I start with something I never thought I'd hear myself saying: the cycle ride to a birding destination is often at least as enjoyable as the birding itself, and never more so than in high summer.

How so, and how especially so in high summer?

Well, at any time of year it is a pleasure to enjoy the feeling of liberation that cycling confers - a feeling of motion without undue haste, hassle or cost (either to your bank balance or the planet). There are sights and sounds to enjoy which are a mystery to passing motorists - little byways and alleyways, things just over hedges, birdsong, and people to greet with a cheery "mornin'".

So there is always the danger that after a fabulous 10 miles or so, the birding itself might fall a little flat. And this risk is at least doubled at the peak of summer, when the birding can often be best described as ordinary. No migrants, nothing much moving, birds gone to ground after breeding - you just cross your fingers and hope some times.

Well, by happy chance today was one of the lucky days - great cycling and great birding (mind you, I'd not been out much with either recently, so perhaps I was easily pleased). The 11 mile ride to Brandon Marsh was superb - pleasant but mild weather, the wind at my back, Yellowhammer and Greenfinch calling from every hedgerow, and plenty to see on my way - including an interesting array of fungus which I must go back and inspect more closely.

Things initially seemed quiet at Brandon, but then the birds emerged one by one. A Kestrel then a Common Buzzard. Mallards, Coot and Moorhen of course, and a Grey Heron hunched low in waterside scrub. At East Marsh hide I found 60 or more Black-headed Gulls, black heads rapidly fading, and 200 or more Lapwing. A Green Woodpecker exploded noisily from the grass banks, and around me Reed Warblers could be seen and heard.

Among all of this was a less common, but by no means rare, Ringed Plover, then a Cormorant, Great Crested Grebe and, with a flurry of black, white and orange, and Oystercatcher. Hidden among rocks I found a Common Sandpiper, and while I studied it closely I heard calls to confirm that three Common Terns had just arrived over the water.

I was already pretty pleased with my haul, but a quick trip to Carlton hide added three Redshanks, a Green Sandpiper, two more Cormorants and a personal favourite, Sand Martins. I presume the martins bred here this year, a very welcome development. And of course, alongside all of the birds, there were the flowers and the insects - the stripy caterpillars pictured above caught my eye, but I'm afraid I'm far too lazy to look up what they are.

All superb, and you'll excuse me if I gloss over the cycle ride home - into the wind, some serious uphill work, persistent light rain, and aching knees. I'm just rethinking my opening line - I'll get back to you on that.

Bird of the day: Common Sandpiper (Actitis hypoleucos), a super little wader with a distinctive comedy bob as it walks, and a diagnostic clean white 'swoosh' up its side.

Summer stuff

Although I've not had the chance to post on my last few trips out, I think they can be neatly lumped together as: nice weather, nothing remarkable on the birding front, plenty of plants and insects to keep me interested (confused). Oh, and lots of insect bites - why am I so popular with them?

I was delighted to find my first orchids at Ufton a couple of weeks ago, the Common Spotted Orchid to be precise. Not that this took any great skill on my part, just the brains to turn up at the right time of year and actually look for them. Forgot my camera though, which makes it all the more fortunate that there were also some in Fingringhoe, Essex, this weekend - hence the picture.

Bird-wise, I'm disappointed to report that I have still only heard one cuckoo this year, and that at Brandon Marsh. Regular spots from previous years, including Ufton, Napton Reservoir and Radford Semele, have all been silent this year. Hmm. I notice that Swifts have been put on the amber list this year as well - sometimes it's hard to stay optimistic about these things.

Anyway, Fingringhoe put on a pretty good show - Nightingales still calling, plenty of warblers around, the usual Curlews and Little Egrets out on the marshes, and lots of newly fledged birds around the place - as with the Magpies in the photo, and the Long-tailed Tit, one of dozens which swarmed past me at one point.

Flower of the month: Common Spotted Orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii), just how did I get to my age without noticing things like this before - absolutely beautiful.

Sunny May days in Leam Valley

OK, so late May is hardly the top birdwatching season. In fact it can be a bit quiet. But it seems downright churlish to complain on days like today.

Our 'barbecue summer' is back with a vengeance, with the hot hot days making morning by far the best time to be out and about. 7am at Leam Valley was beautiful and a joy, just as long as you weren't looking for anything rare or remarkable (I wasn't).

The birds were in good voice, if a little elusive. Blackcaps and Garden Warblers both showed well, along with a couple of Chiffchaffs - but no Willow Warblers. A male Sparrowhawk drifted low and slowly overhead, while Swifts screamed on high and Swallows dropped down onto the scrape pool to drink. Reed Warblers and Whitethroat hopped around the waters' edge, taking advantage of reedbeds which have really started to come into their own this year.

And although my attention was firmly fixed on the birdlife, it was impossible to ignore the plants and flowers all around. Again, the water's edge was the place to be, with buttercups, oxeye daisies, red campion and bird's foot trefoil all intermingling to form spectacular splashes of colour.

Bird of the day: Sparrowhawk (Accipiter nisus), a relatively common raptor which doesn't often give good views (more often than not it'll be a low direct dash past you before you get binoculars anywhere near your eyes). This was was low, slow and gave superb views before it slunk menacingly back into the woodland to hunt.

What's in a name?

Today's lunchtime stroll around Henley-in-Arden got me thinking about our very human obsession with naming, categorising and organising the world around us.

Why do I work so hard at identifying birds by sight and sound? Why am I starting to photograph and identify the plants I see when I'm out and about? And why am I so ashamed at my lack of knowledge on butterflies, moths and dragonflies?!

Well, today's first sighting didn't take much identifying - the brilliant flash of blue that darted away from me down the stream was clearly my first Kingfisher on this stretch of water for a couple of years.

But as I wandered further, I started to realise that my obsession with naming things was helping me see my surroundings much more clearly than might otherwise be the case. If I didn't know it was White Campion, would I have paid so much attention to the flashes of white along the riverbank? If I hadn't planted a few Flag Irises in my own pond, would I have stopped to admire the stand of yellow flowers by the small pond? And if I hadn't failed to find Ragged Robin on a so many recent outings, would I have even noticed the few whispy pinky flowers just a few feet away (pictured)?

I think not.

The act of naming, of knowing what we are looking at, fulfils many purposes and has many joys, but principal among them is the way it encourages awareness. The very act of putting a name on something compels us to stop and notice it, and in doing so to begin to value it. And that, in turn, makes our world a more joyous place.

Either that or I'm just justifying my own nerdy obsessions. Possible, distinctly possible.

Bird of the day: Yes, there is one among all this, the Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis), the unmistakeable flash of blue that enlivens any riverside walk.

So, did I find a Nightingale?

With the option of spending part of my Bank Holiday weekend with family in Essex, I thought I'd dedicate myself to finally tracking down a Nightingale (Luscinia megarhynchos).

This legendary songster is now extremely rare in Warwickshire, so my chances of stumbling across one on home turf are pretty low. Fingringhoe in Essex, on the other hand, must surely be one of the UK's hottest hotspots, with 30-40 males singing there every April and May.

Knowing that the bird is an intensely shy skulker, the first precaution I took was to spend some time listening to an mp3 of its song, in order that I could pick it out when I heard it. The second precaution was to get up nice and early and arrive at Fingringhoe as soon as it opened - Nightingales, like most songbirds, are more vocal and visible at the start of the day.

So... did I find any? Well, I arrived to be told at the visitor centre that I was probably a week too late - not the best of starts. Then I wandered round for 20 minutes hearing nothing but Whitethroat, Chiffchaff, Willow Warbler and Blackcap song, interspersed with more common resident species like Wren, Blackbird, Robin and Chaffinch.

And then I heard it. Wow. No danger of not recognising that then. It turns out that the Nightingale is a bit like opera - nice to hear a recording, but absolutely nothing like the experience of hearing it live. It is a spectacular liquid bubbling call, a call that stops you dead in your tracks the moment you hear it. As long as you're familiar with the other loud songsters (notably Song Thrush and Cetti's Warbler), there is no chance of mistaking it for anything else.

So I heard one. I heard four or five in fact. But seeing them was another matter all together. I scoured, searched, loitered, stared, scanned and squinted at bush after bush, but all in vain. Until finally, after 20 minutes spent stalking one particularly vocal specimen, I found him. On the plus side I got a great view, full length from beak to tail. On the downside, it lasted for perhaps a second before the bird dived back into cover.

So, success of sorts, enjoyable but limited. I'll definitely be coming back for more.

Bird of the day: Nightingale (Luscinia megarhynchos), a wonderful voice but not much of a looker (which reminds me, Britain's Got Talent is on in an hour).

ps. I clearly didn't have long enough to get a photo. This one is courtesy of Sergy Yeliseev on Flickr.