Clubbing at Goring

As May draws to a close it signals the start of the summer doldrums when the birding gets hard. In fact things had been positively dire on my local patch at Port Meadow for about a month now with the floods now dried up and the year list stalled at a very paltry total of 113. Because of this lull in the birding action it's at about this time of year that my thoughts start to turn to insects. Indeed, I've been mothing away like a good 'un for a while now in the garden but so far it's been a very poor season with the clear cold nights and cooler days making for dismal catches. Still, there are Butterflies and Odanata to hunt with several species that I've yet to see relatively close by. One of these is Common Club-tailed, which is a very local and hard to come by species though we're lucky to have a hot spot within the county on the Thames between Goring and Pangbourne. I'd only ever once previously tried to see them but had failed dismally so when Steve Burch managed to photograph an emerging Club-tailed at Goring about a week ago I resolved that this year I'd make more of a concerted effort. I did some reading up about them and it seemed that they were well known for emerging right by the railway bridge where it crosses the Thames at Goring. According to my field guide (Brooks and Lewington) the peak time for emergence was between 1:30 pm and 3:30 pm. However, apparently once they had emerged they usually fly off to nearby woodland as their preferred habitat so it was a matter of catching them shortly after this emergence that appeared to be the  key.

Armed with this knowledge it was just a matter of getting some decent weather so that I could have a go. However, finding a decent weather window has been no easy matter this spring and with the forecast for deteriorating conditions over the next few days in the end I decided to have a punt today late morning before the forecast cloud set in for the afternoon - at the very least it would be a reconnaissance trip for a site I'd not visited previously. Thus it was that at around 11 a.m. I set off in the Gnome mobile heading southwards towards Goring. I parked up at the end of Manor Road in Goring (as per Paul Ritchie's Hampshire Dragonflies web-site) and walked along the track, under the railway and down the farm track to the river. Here I found the old brick railway bridge that I recognised from photos.

Goring railway bridge

A quick scan all along the concrete embankment under the bridge revealed plenty of Banded Demoiselles though predictably no emerging Club-tails. Well it wouldn't be that easy now, would it? I started to explore along the river bank, nipping into each clearing by the river to see if I could spot any emerging dragonflies anywhere. Along the bank were singing Garden Warblers, a Whitethroat feeding a young fledgling and a singing Sedge Warbler. There were loads of wild flowers about and it was all very pretty. I came to an overgrown area and started to explore, looking for any Odonata that I could find. At this point a fellow Dragon hunter turned up. He'd been up and down the bank for some distance but had found nothing. We worked our way back towards the bridge together but to no avail. We bumped into another couple on the same mission who'd had no luck either but they soon left.

On the other side of the bridge was a lovely overgrown flower meadow which we spent some time exploring though the only Odonata action was from Banded D's. I did find a teneral Damsel though it flew off before I could get an ID or a photo. My companion, who lived locally, wandered back off home and I wondered what to do. I decided to give Peter Law, a keen Odonata'er a quick ring to see if he had any advice. It turned out that he was at Aston Rowant photographing Adonis Blues. He said that he didn't know the Goring site as he usually went to Pangbourne instead but he hadn't seen any there over the last couple of years. I was starting to appreciate just how hard it was to see this species. He suggested that we rendezvous'd there to try together and I agreed. I decided to have a last quick look around at Goring before heading off and did a quick circuit of the surrounding bushes and the bridge embankment. It was at the embankment when I stumbled upon the heart quickening sight of a dragonfly crawling up the side of the concrete. A freshly emerged Club-tailed was walking unsteadily up the side of the bridge right by my feet. Get in! What a last-gasp stroke of luck!

 

A freshly emerged Common Club-tailed working it's way up the bridge embankment

It was looking rather precarious and I was just wondering whether it might need a helping hand when suddenly it flew over my head and landed in a nearby small conifer right next to the bridge. There it sat at just about head height whilst it dried out its wings. I gave Peter a quick call saying that I was going to stay here instead and suggesting that he might like to come over. I don't know how long it takes for a freshly-emerged dragonfly's wings to harden but I imagined that it would be some time so Peter could probably get to see it.

  

Drying off its wings

How wrong I was! Five minutes later suddenly it took off and disappeared never to be seen again. I waited around until Peter arrived and meanwhile another hopeful hunter turned up. I explained to Peter exactly where I'd seen it and suggested that the best tactics might be simply to wait to see if any more emerge from by the bridge. However, the weather seemed to be deteriorating and whilst I wished him luck I did wonder how successful he might be as it became cloudier and cooler (sadly I later learnt that he drew a blank). Meanwhile I made my way back to the car and headed home to Oxford for my usual celebratory cup of tea.

I still don't really know whether I was just extremely lucky or whether on a good day at the right time of year it's fairly likely to see several emerge by the bridge. Reading Paul Ritchie's recent blog entry it looks like he prefers the Pangbourne site and that he had good success there last weekend. All I know is that I was extremely happy to have seen my first ever Common Club-tailed at such close quarters.

Birthday Surprise

Today was my VLW's birthday. She's now in her very very very late thirties (or so she likes to tell me and who am I to argue). The only problem was that she was feeling rather under the weather today so it was a rather low key affair. She opened her cards in bed with her usual cup of tea and we had a nice roast lamb for lunch. We were just settling down for our post-lunch hot drink when my mobile rang: it was Justin Taylor calling to say that the warden at the Bicester Wetlands reserve had managed to find a Red-necked Phalarope! Normally Badger, who's very much the central hub of county birding information, would handle such a call but for some reason he wasn't answering so Justin had stepped into the breach and started calling around. I took down the details carefully in order to blog it but on this day of all days what my VLW wanted was going to be what we did and I didn't think that seeing a Phalarope would rate too highly on her birthday wish list. I went back to her to see what she wanted to do and the birding gods must have been smiling on me because miraculously she wanted to take a nap in order to try and recuperate so I had our two children for the afternoon. A quick consult on the map and I realised that Blenheim Palace wasn't a million miles from Bicester so quickly I hatched a plan: my VLW would go for her nap and I'd take the kids for a blitzkreig twitch of the Phalarope before we would head over to Blenheim where our younger daughter wanted to visit the Butterfly House and our son wanted to go on the little train there. I ran up to my office in order quickly to post the news on the Oxon Birding Blog (though I later realised that in my haste I forgot actually to save it) and I sent out a few texts to local birders. Then we hurriedly got our stuff together and it was off up the A34 towards Bicester. 

I'd only been to the Bicester Wetlands Reserve once before (for the Glossy Ibis last year) but I managed to remember where it was. I pulled in the car park right by the Tower Hide, got my gear together and run up the steps to the hide whilst the children amused themselves in the car. Inside I found the warden and also Justin, who was busy putting the news out and updating the blog. The bird was on view constantly though rather distant, busily feeding away like a little clockwork toy, pecking at countless insects on the water's surface. As I had only very limited time I hastily set about taking some digiscoped shots and a bit of video though back home I later discovered that much of it was too out of focus to use - had I had more time I could probably done it more justice. It was a very smart bird in full summer plumage - I'd only ever seen one once before in Gloucestershire in transitional plumage to winter so this was a real treat for me.

My rather crappy digiscoped efforts don't really do the bird justice

I'd have loved to have stayed longer to admire the bird in more detail but with two restless children in the car I stayed no more than about five minutes before hurrying back down to them and setting back off on the road. We then cut across country towards Woodstock where, because it was rather late in the day, I bit the bullet and actually paid the entrance ticket (rather than parking in town and walking in the townie's gate) in order to maximise our time there. Still it was definitely worth it for having been allowed to nip in to see the bird. We then passed a very pleasant afternoon together, first having a spot of tea, then the kids went on the adventure playground whilst I took a call from Badger: he'd apparently had such an epic night on Saturday drinking that he'd only just got up, staggered along half dressed to the Phalarope, ticked it and then staggered back home to bed. I'm glad to see that married life hadn't dulled his spirit! After that we went in the maze, then the Butterfly House and finally the train. All in all a very nice afternoon indeed which everyone enjoyed. We arrived back to find that my VLW had had a nice nap and was feeling much better. 

What a great treat it was to have such a county rarity drop in like that - the only one in the last fifteen years apart from the untwitchable "probable" June last year. A great time to get a county tick just before the summer doldrums kick in.

Titchfield Haven Greater Yellowlegs

Given that May is one of the best months of the year for birding, you'd think that I'd be zipping all around the country at the moment, picking up ticks left right and centre. Not so, gentle reader, not so - in fact it's all been rather quiet. I went to Farmoor to see the gorgeous summer plumaged Black-throated Diver on the day that it arrived though by the time that I'd got there it was rather distant so I didn't bother with any photographs. Even then I thought that it looked rather unwell: it spent a lot of time floating on its side with its belly out of the water and photos on subsequent days have shown that it has a wound there. Let's hope that it doesn't get infected and that the bird manages to heal properly and to move on north to its breeding grounds in due course.

Apart from this diver-sion (see what I did there?), I've been stuck at home helping my VLW with her Art Weeks showing. This meant that when news of the continued presence of the Greater Yellowlegs down at Titchfield Haven came up this week, I was unable to do anything about it. This bird has been rather frustrating: it first appeared back in January of this year but has never been seen more than one day at a time before it disappears for days or even initially weeks on end - where it goes to nobody knows. It seemed that the only tactics for it are to go for it on the day that it's reported and to hope that it sticks around long enough on the day for you to get to see it. Also, very often it seemed to be reported on a Saturday which is about the worst day for twitching for me so I've been "frustrated of Oxford" for many weeks now. When it turned up on Friday I was all set to go until my VLW reminded me that she'd be out that afternoon so I had to mind the art shop. Grrrr! Actually it turned out well because it flew off about half an hour after the initial report and wasn't seen again that day so I inadvertently dodged a dip there. 

This weekend, for the first time it was reported on both days though of course I still couldn't go. Was it changing its habits though and sticking to the reserve? Finally today (Monday) I was free to have a crack at it. Given that Titchfield Haven is relatively close to Oxford I decided that despite this potential change of habits I would still wait on news and then chance that it stuck around long enough for me to get it though it was clearly going to be a bit of a gamble. That was the plan anyway but Monday morning found much of the southern half of the country under heavy rain and strong winds and I wondered whether anyone would actually be out on the reserve looking for it. At around 9:45 a.m. with no news so far I put out a tentative "RFI" on RBA and within half an hour I was rewarded with a "still present on the scrapes" message. Game on! I knocked up a quick packed lunch, bundled my gear into the Gnome mobile and headed off down the A34 in the torrential rain. Gradually as I sped southwards the weather started to lift a little so by the time I pulled up on the shores of the Solent by the reserve it was just the strong wind that had to be contended with. As I'd been starting my final descent into Titchfield Haven a new RBA text had come through so I hurriedly scanned through it: "still present and showing well from the Spurgin hide". Woo hoo! There was no time to go and get a ticket for the reserve, I hurried into my waterproofs, slung my gear over my shoulder and hot-footed it along the path. A helpful sign told me that the Spurgin hide was the furthest away at 950 metres distance. I hurried on, starting to feel rather hot and sweaty in all my waterproof gear. Finally I made it to the hide and entered to find just two birders there. Fortunately one of them had the Greater Yellowlegs in his scope and with a quick peek I could relax.

The bird turned out to be tucked right in the corner to the right of the hide, nice and close but partially obscured by some reeds and a bush that were both being blown all over the place and continually getting into the field of view. I peeled off several layers to cool off, set up my scope and tried to take some photos. It was hanging out with a flock of some thirty odd Black-tailed Godwits and gradually this flock moved out from its corner into a more open space where I was able to take some shots of it.

It was a very smart bird and I thanked the stars that I was able to enjoy such close views of it. From following things on the internet I appreciated that very often views were distant and hazy so to be treated to such grandstand views was a real treat. It looked just like it was supposed to: a larger and less delicate version of a Lesser Yellowlegs, a species that is forever ingrained in my mind thanks to the bird I found on Port Meadow back in October 2010. The bill wasn't as sharp as the Lesser and it had the barring down its flank and a general chunkier jizz to it. This very much made up for "Greenshank-gate" - the fiasco which saw a group of Oxon's finest twitchers (and me) bombing over to the Midlands to take a look at a "Greater Yellowlegs" that turned out to be a Greenshank. That had been really gutting, having wasted all that time and effort only to be disappointed. This on the other hand was definitely the real deal, and a very smart bird to boot.

Gradually a few other people started arriving though there were never more than a mere eight people in the hide at most, a very modest showing for such a rarity though I supposed many had already seen it by now. After a while I decided that I'd taken enough photos of it and had a look around at the rest of the area from the hide: there were loads of Black-headed Gulls everywhere you looked on the scrape, a few distant Avocets and Shelduck and the odd Common Tern. A few Swallows and a single Swift were zipping around in the wind, hawking for insects over the water. It was all wonderfully birdy and I gazed out of the window at it contentedly whilst I munched on my packed lunch. Then it was time for another quick gander at the Yellowlegs which had slunk back towards the corner again.

The view from the Spurgin hide

After that I decided to head back towards the car, stopping in at all the intervening hides en route to see what I could see. These hides offered various views of the North and South Scrapes which again was mostly covered in breeding Black-headed Gulls though with a few Mediterranean Gulls in amongst them. There were more Blackwits and Avocets, a flock of Oystercatchers and the odd Redshank.

It was nice to see so many breeding Avocets

As I walked it seemed that every few yards along the reed-lined path there was a Cetti's Warbler, belting out its strident song from the hidden depths. Reed Warblers were chugging away relentlessly with their songs and Reed Buntings called to each other as they bombed about in the wind. I listened out carefully for the pinging of Bearded Tits but didn't manage to hear any. As I wandered, I stopped to look at the various plants with one of the Comfreys flowering along the path and loads of (the highly poisonous) Hemlock Water Dropwort everywhere I looked, just starting to flower.

Hemlock Water Dropwort

Finally I was back at the car where I de-tooled and then drove the short distance round to the visitor centre. Here I belatedly paid for my entrance ticket and then went to the café for a celebratory cup of tea and a cake whilst I gazed out across the windswept Solent towards the Isle of Wight. Then it was back to the car and back off home, arriving back to the bosom of my family mid afternoon, just in time for yet another cup of tea. Why not - after all it had a been a very successful day out. I later learnt that the bird had stayed put until around 2:30 p.m. that afternoon when it had flown off, not to be seen again that day. So it had been on show for a total of four hours. Long enough for me to get down there and see it though, which was all that matters. Clearly, "he who dares, ticks the Mega Yank".

The Titchfield Haven Greater Yellowlegs

Paying Homage to the Hudwit

Whilst I'd been away on my long Scottish birding trip fairly recently, I'd found that far from sating my thirst for birding adventure, instead it had only left me wanting more. Thus when on Saturday morning news broke of a Hudsonian Godwit down in Somerset at Meare Heath NR my interest was very much piqued. Of course Saturday is a bad day for me: I had the weekly family food shop to do and a series of DIY tasks lined up for the weekend. Still, if it stuck around then it would make a nice little target for an outing on Monday, usually the most convenient day for me. Sadly, late afternoon the bird flew off with part of the Black-tailed Godwit flock there and wasn't seen again for the rest of the day, nor for the following day. "Oh well, that's that", I mused and thought no more about it.

Well, I say I thought about it no more but actually it did prompt me to do some reading up on the species which isn't one that had ever crossed my radar before, chiefly because the last record in this country was over thirty years ago. It turns out that this Nearctic species breeds in north west Canada and Alaska, including along the Hudson Bay. Before migrating they gather in Hudson Bay (hence the name) and James Bay (the southern end of Hudson Bay) and then embark on an epic migration down to South America where they spend the winter. In terms of identifying them, they are similar to Black-tailed Godwits though with diagnostic black underwing coverts as well as a fainter white wing bar. So, at least now I knew a bit more about them. I switched on my RBA text alert service for this species on the off chance that it should turn up again and left it at that.

Several days passed with no more news and then on Wednesday afternoon it turned up again. Should I drop everything and go I pondered? I had quite a bit of work that I wanted to get finished that afternoon as well as an important economic news release to watch that evening. In the end I decided to leave it until the next day. Predictably that evening it flew off again with a sub-set of the Blackwit flock and wasn't seen again for the rest of the day. Given how it had been several days before it had turned up again last time I decided to postpone my trip the next day and instead to wait on news. So I went about my usual business in the morning until at some time after 9 a.m. it came up on the pager as back again. Game on! I hurriedly got together my stuff, made a packed lunch and shoved everything into the Gnome mobile. I had enough petrol to get there so pointed the car down the Botley Road towards the A420. This is where it all went a bit pear-shaped. The A420 road was blocked off completely at the roundabout with a diversion in place which cost me about 15 minutes to get back on track. Further down the 420 at Farindon there were single-file traffic lights and another queue which fortunately only took about 10 minutes though I could see the queue backing up for miles in the other direction and made a mental note to come back a different way. Given that in the past the bird usually stayed for most of the day before it would fly off I ought to have been reasonably calm about it all but I couldn't help be a bit on edge least I got the dreaded news that it had flown off before I got there.

Talking about getting news en route I should mention a new discovery I made. There is this problem when you're driving on your own to see a bird and then an RBA text comes through with news on it. It is of course dangerous to try to read it though I must confess to having done it in the past. What I really needed was for my iPhone to speak the text to me so I didn't have to take my eyes off the road. Well, a bit of Googling and I found out how to do it (see here).  After setting this up then as each text came through all I had to do was to touch the message and it would read it out to me, something that's easy to do whilst keeping my eyes on the road. A real help, in my opinion. Anyway, fortunately the message were all positive and once onto the motorway I started to relax a bit and to get back into the groove of driving to the South West that was so familiar to me from my trips to Cornwall. I made up some of my lost time and so it was that in under two and a half hours I found myself turning in to the spanking new huge (though nearly full) car park at Ashcott Corner. I was familiar with the spot as I'd been here twice before (though to the Ham Wall side) for the Pie-billed Grebe and the breeding Little Bitterns. Whom should I see just as I turned in but Keith Clack and the Witney posse, indulging in some post-twitch snackery. It turned out that they'd come first thing on spec as they were going out for a day's birding anyway and thought that it might as well be here as anywhere else. Of course when the bird had turned up again they'd been right on the spot. I didn't chat long with them as I was keen to see the bird myself before it flew off again so I hurried off to find somewhere to park and to get tooled up. Then it was a rapid yomp the quarter of a mile down the path to the relatively modest twitch line of perhaps a couple of hundred birders. Just as I approached I saw a flock of birds all fly up briefly and I sprinted the last 30 yards though fortunately they'd settled down again and were still there. I then walked along the line asking if anyone had the bird though quite a few of the people at the start of the line didn't. Eventually I found someone who had it in his scope and I took a quick peek and then I could relax finally. I got my scope out and after a bit of help managed to get on the bird itself which was fast asleep in amongst a flock of over 100 Black-tailed Godwits.

The wader scrape: sadly the flock was near the back of the pool

Once one got one's eye in it was relatively easy to pick out being much darker than the other birds with dark barring on its belly and very dark wings. It's neck was barred and it had a little rufous cap on its head. When it occasionally got it's bill out for a preen this was long and slightly more up-curved that its Palearctic cousins. I busied myself with taking some digiscoped shots though sadly the flock were right at the back of the pool, the bird was asleep the whole time and there was a crippling heat haze which meant that all my shots were absolute rubbish.

The best photo I could manage in the circumstances

As I stood and waited for some kind of movement from the Hudwit, there was plenty else to watch. A Great White Egret flew over, a Bittern flapped off from the reedbeds, there were hawking Marsh Harriers behind us and several Hobbies overhead. In amongst the Blackwits were a Ruff and a Dunlin and in the reeds Reed and Sedge Warblers could be heard singing away and there were plenty of Blackcaps and Garden Warblers warbling in the hedgerows. In the water-filled ditch in front off us were shoals of Rudd which would occasionally be attacked by a large Pike which would send fish and water flying everywhere. All in all it was a very pleasant pastoral scene. Talking of Bitterns, an RSPB chappy there said that there were over 40 males in the Avalon Marshes area, and apparently it was one of the top spots in the whole country for this species.

Of course with such a crowd there I was bound to bump into some people I knew and sure enough I soon came across Peter Law and also my good Cornish friends Phil and Hilary ("P&H", ) who'd come up for the Hudwit but also to meet up with a friend for a spot of local birding and butterflying. Whilst there P&H also met up with Mark Cocker (a tick for me) whom they knew from a recent crossing on the Scillonian. They'd not brought their scopes so I let them use mine but Phil had brought some image stablisation binoculars - not something that I'd come across before but they were pretty impressive. They were larger and bulkier than normal bins but gave you 15x magnification and there was a magic button which switched on the image stabilisation which meant that you could actually see properly whilst holding them. I was most impressed as you can hear from the sound track to the video below (which is of course otherwise sadly a bunch of hazy crap).

Time passed. I went to get my lunch from the car and came back to find there'd been no change at all.

P&H went off with their friend and the rest of us hung around in the sunshine though with a rather stiff breeze taking the edge off what would otherwise be lovely weather. I really wanted to see these famous black underwings though so far it had resolutely been just about the only Godwit not at least to have the occasional wing stretch. I didn't have unlimited time: there was of course a price to pay for this visit in the form of yet another trip to Ikea and I didn't want to get stuck in the rush hour traffic. I'd mentally given myself until about 3 pm and it was just before then that finally the birds seemed all to wake up and then they had a little fly around where suddenly the Hudwit stood out like a sore thumb from the rest of the flock.

Of course I wasn't able to photograph the birds in flight so here's a great shot by David Carr (c)
which clearly shows just how striking the bird is in flight compared to the Black-tailed Godwits

At last I'd seen what I'd been waiting for so it was time to head on back to the car. On the way back Peter and I managed to spot what was for me at least, my first Odonatae of the year in the form of a Hairy Dragonfly and a Large Red Damselfly. Nice! Then it was back to the car and back on the road. I knew the way to the Bristol Ikea from previous visits and when I arrived it was mercifully empty (there's nothing quite so hellish as a visit to Ikea when it's really packed). I quickly picked up the items I was after which were picture frames for my VLW's art as she was exhibiting for Art Weeks next week in Oxford (do come and visit if you want, she's at location 238 in the Jericho area). Next it was time for a quick tea and cake in the café before hitting the road again. Fortunately the traffic wasn't too bad and I remembered to go on the A34 which was fine as well. I arrived back early evening for a celebratory cup of tea and something to eat. It had been a very successful trip to see a genuine UK Mega and naturally I basked in the warm comforting glow of a successful twitch.

On other days the birds had been much closer on the scrape and the conditions less hazy. Here's one
of the best photos of the Hudwit that I've seen, taken by Gareth Jones (c). See his great blog here

Gnome Goes (Very Far) North

It was that time again - it comes around so quickly but Daughter Number 1 was due to head back to Durham for her summer term. I can't quite believe how she's nearly through her first year already, time is really zipping by. Anyway, of course this meant another foray north for some birding so in the week leading up to taking her back I started to put together a plan. Now there was precious little happening in the North East (all the spring drift migrant action was happening much further south than that) so I did start to wonder about making a trip north of the border as I'd been threatening to do for previous trips. After all there were still two Harlequin ducks about there and a White-billed Diver was being reported regularly from Portsoy as well, not to mention the two Scottish specialities that I had failed to see on my last trip north, namely Capercaillie and Scottish Crossbill. I floated the idea of an extended trip to my VLW who seemed amenable so I started to put together a plan. My original thinking was to head up on Saturday, drop off Daughter 1 at Durham and then head on up to Aberdeen where I'd stay the night before seeing the Seaton Park Harleqin the next day. I started to put out questions on Bird Forum about the status of the Seaton Park bird but sadly suddenly the week leading up to my departure it started to look a lot less reliable. It had been seen a couple of days at around midday but gone were the regular RBA reports. I happened to speak to Lee Evans who mentioned that he was going up to Scotland on the Thursday with one of his Scottish Tours and that he would be stopping off at Seaton Park to take a look. Therefore on Friday I texted him to see how he'd got on there and sadly there'd been no sign of it. Time for a change of plan: I wouldn't bother with Seaton Park but instead I planned to head up to the Speyside area and make that my base from which I'd make sorties up to the female Harlequin near Brora and over to the White-billed Diver at Portsoy, as well as trying to catch up with my two Abernethy specialities that I still needed. That was the plan at least.

Saturday

Saturday morning, bright and early Daughter 1 and I set off in the Gnome mobile for the four hour trip up to Durham. The weather was lovely and sunny and the roads were clear and the trip was uneventful. By now we had a finely honed routine for dropping her off and within an hour and a half all her bags were unloaded into her tiny student room, we'd got some sandwiches for lunch and she'd met up with some of her chums and so we said our farewells and I went on my way. During my lunch break I'd checked up for news on RBA and intriguingly there'd been a report of a White-billed Diver in East Lothian "between Thortonloch and Dunbar". Now looking at the map, this was a five mile stretch of coastline (!) so either they were deliberately hiding the location or they were just ignorant of the local geography. Still I had nothing else of interest and I was going to need to have a break on the long slog up to Speyside so I thought I'd have a look around: after all the A1 on which I'd be travelling went right past Thorntonloch anyway.

I headed on north on the A1, seeing the "Angel of the North" statue for the first time as I did so. I realised that I'd not ventured this far north on any of my "Gnome Goes North" trips so far. A couple of hours later I'd crossed over the border and made it to Thortonloch.  Here I decided to head for the harbour at Skateraw which looked a reasonable spot where I could have a look around. This turned out to be a rather large natural and pretty harbour though the view was definitely spoilt by the huge Thorness power station on the south side.

Thorness Power Station

I decided to head north instead, away from the power station where it was much more scenic. It was lovely and sunny though rather breezy as I wandered along the shingle shoreline looking out at the Eider Ducks on the sea. Skylarks were singing, there were a few White Wagtails on the beach and some distant birds bobbing up and down in the bay that lead up north to Barns Ness Lighthouse. I decided to wander in that direction and to take a look.

Barns Ness Lighthouse

Scanning through the birds I found more Eider, a couple of Long-tailed Ducks and a single Red-throated Diver, in transitional moult but with a nice red throat. There was of course no sign of the White-billed Diver but with such a huge expanse of coastline to search I wasn't really expecting to find it. Still, I'd been on the road for six hours already and with another three hours at least to go it had been a nice break from the driving. I ambled back to the car and headed on north. Negotiating my way around the Edinburgh area I hit a bit of traffic but soon I was on the A9 heading north through the Scottish heartlands. The flat scenery gave way to mountains that were bathed in the evening sunlight and I slipped into a contented mental stillness as the miles sped by. I spotted a distant flock of Geese flying ahead of me in a V-formation and as I drew closer to my destination I started to see Oystercatchers, Lapwings and Curlew in the fields. Finally at around 8 pm I arrived at Grantown-on-Spey where I'd booked a hotel for my stay.

I didn't go straight there but first headed over to the High Street to get some food. Last time I'd been there I'd found a great Chinese Takeaway which I went to look for though it had now become an Indian instead. However, it turned out that it had just moved across the street and I soon had my bag of yummy House Speciality Sezchuan and Spring Rolls in my hand as I headed over to the hotel where I checked in, ate my delicious grub and unpacked. I then went for a little walk just to stretch my legs after all that driving before turning in. It had been a long day but I'd made it back to the Speyside area.

Sunday

The reason for my basing my stay in Scotland in the Speyside area was of course for the Scottish specialities there. It is a right of passage for any serious birder to come up to the Abernethy Forest region to try and see Capercaillie, Scottish Crossbill and Crested Tit. Now I'd been previously a couple of years ago in June (the worst month for these species!!!) and had only managed Crested Tit so I was back again to try and mop up the first two on that list. As April is lekking season one had to be really careful about tramping about in the forest - as a Schedule 1 bird it was illegal to disturb a lek so I'd decided that my best chance was going to be to attend the RSPB Caper Watch at Loch Garten from 5:30 to 8 a.m. each morning. Thus it was that at the ungodly hour of 4:30 in the morning I left my hotel and sped off along the deserted roads towards Nethy Bridge. The reason for starting even earlier than necessary was that I wanted to have a little drive along the road to Forest Lodge first where I'd heard that Capers could sometimes be seen taking grit first thing. It was rather spooky driving through the densely packed forest in the pre-dawn darkness with occasional deer or rabbits being caught in the headlights. I arrived at the Forest Lodge turn-off to find that a barrier had been put across the track: the road was closed to avoid Caper disturbance. That rather foiled my plans so I just got out of the car and had a listen. A few birds were just starting to sing and I could hear a distant barking deer. In the distance I heard a very Grouse-like call - not the weird popping of a lekking male but could that be the call of a female? I listened closely but it didn't call again. After about ten minutes I had to leave so carefully turned around the Gnome mobile on the track (I didn't want to end up in a ditch that early in the morning) and headed on towards Loch Garten where I found a car park full of other keen birders all there to try and see the elusive Capercaillie.

The warden came out at around 5:30 and lead us along the track to the large hide. He gave a talk about what had been seen of late: yesterday it had been misty all the way up until 8 a.m. though one person had seen a female in flight. In general, this season was looking better than last year in terms of sightings with two males about though one was much more dominant than the other so not much lekking had been taking place. They'd managed sightings on roughly half the days from what I could gather which didn't seem too bad odds.We all set about looking out of the hide windows whilst one warden manned the remote cameras looking for Capers and another went to the smaller forward hide to see if one could be seen there. Time passed, a male Redstart was singing away constantly from nearby and a couple of squabbling Tree Pipits fought over the territory in the clearing before us. I got to chatting to a birder next to me who told me that he'd seen some Scottish Crossbills near Grantown. Upon questioning him further it turned out that he meant Anagach Wood so I made a mental note to follow up on that. There was no Caper action and people gradually started to leave. Eventually we got to 8 a.m. and we were all turfed out. No luck, sadly!

The view from the hide

Osprey at dawn

I made my way back to the hotel for breakfast and to think about the day ahead of me. My main plan for today was to head up to Brora in the Highlands for the Harlequin duck, a two hour drive away. So I fuelled up the car and bought some lunch before heading out through Grantown on my way north. In the middle of the town I spotted Lee Evans and a few of his tour party clearly on a bird, judging by their frantic movements and the wielding of cameras. I stopped to take a look and it turned out to be a Dippers under the bridge. I took a quick peek and then left them to their photography though it was so dark that I wouldn't have expected any shots to come out. I was soon out on the road heading northwards towards Inverness and then beyond up into the Highlands. I settled into the relatively slow driving speed of these roads and patiently the car chipped away at the miles. I spotted a Hooded Crow on the roadside at one point though most of the Crows were still Carrions on this side of the country.

I'd done my research the preceding week and had the location of Sputie Burn where the bird was already programmed up in the Sat Nav. Thanks to Google Maps I reckoned there was a space for one or two cars to park down at the end of the narrow track that followed the burn and sure enough my hunch turned out to be correct. I parked up and was just starting to get ready when I got the first of a number of phone calls from Lee wanting to know where the location was. Eventually I managed to convey to him where it was and I headed on down the path that lead down the rather low cliff to the mouth of the burn. Even from the top of the cliff I could see the female Harlequin sitting on some rocks right where the burn ran into the sea so the journey had already been a success.

Sputie Burn

At the bottom of the stream I was just heading over towards the Harlequin when one of a number of seals that were bobbing about in the sea, surfaced right next to the bird which spooked and took flight. I watched it in my bins as it flew about half a mile to the next rocky outcrop south of where we were. Hmm, lucky for Lee and his tour that I'd seen that or they'd have been struggling to see it, I thought. I set off on the walk down to the point along the sandy beach noting a nice colony of Fulmars nesting in the cliffs next to me. A few Eider and Long-tailed Duck were bobbing about on the water and there was a steady passage of Gannets in the distance. 

nesting Fulmars

I was half way along the beach when Lee came running up behind me with his tour party stretched out a long way behind him. I told him where the bird was and we went on together. Fortunately the bird was happy enough where it was though it was clearly a bit wary of all the birders and moved a little bit further out whilst we were there. Still it was close enough for some reasonable digiscoping.

The female Harlequin Duck

The tour party seemed to be on a whirlwind schedule because after only about fifteen or so minutes they were back down the beach, stopping to photograph the Fulmars briefly before heading back to their van to go and look for Eagles, apparently since Findhorn wasn't producing the goods this year. To be honest I was glad to be left in peace where I could once more enjoy the tranquillity of the location. A couple of Ringed Plover and a Curlew were knocking about and Rock Pipits buzzed around the place as I wandered back along the beach. I headed back to the car, got out something to eat and went and sat on the cliff top, enjoying the sunshine and staring out at the sea. The gentle sound of the sea and the warmth of the sun were very soporific and in my sleep-deprived state I could easily have dropped off but in the end decided that I should head back. I got back into the Gnome mobile and started to wend my way back south again along the way that I'd come feeling content after my successful morning - after all this had been the key bird of the whole trip north and I'd have been really upset had it not been there. I had thought about going on to Portsoy on the way back but in the end I was too tired so I decided to head back to base and to spend the afternoon looking for Crossbills instead.

The wonderful coconut smell of the Gorse was intoxicating

I arrived back in the Abernethy Forest region a couple of hours later and drove in from the Boat of Garten entrance. I stopped off briefly at the dragonfly pond on the way in where Northern Damselflies can be found at the right time of year. There were of course no insects on the wing there yet but plenty of birds calling in the trees including a Crested Tit and lots of the ubiquitous Coal Tits of course. Whilst I was there a Crossbill came "jipping" over though to my ear it sounded like a bog-standard Common. That was though at least the first Crossbill that I'd heard in the region - when I was last here there were none about at all.

Encouraged I headed on to the Forest Lodge area and parked up. When I was last here on my previous trip I'd heard and seen almost nothing though I was hoping that this was because it had been June as it was supposed to be a good spot for Crossbills. I started to head south on the track that skirts the edge of the forest to my right and the clearer area to my left. It was eerily quiet with almost no sound to be heard at all.  This didn't look good and after no more than twenty minutes I decided to cut my losses and head off elsewhere. Instead I made my way back to the car and then curb-crawled back along the Forest Lodge track with my windows open listening intently for bird life. I came across pockets of bird on the way: I found an area with lots of Coal Tits and a lovely Crested Tit that gave good views in the tree just above my head. A little further on by a stream there were several Willow Warblers, a Chiffchaff and a singing Siskin. Indeed the down-slurred call of this species could be heard all around me and I spent a very pleasant fifteen minutes just standing there listening to all the bird song that filled the forest.

Eventually I made my way back to the road and started to head off, stopping at Tore Hill to have a wander around there. Once again it was Coal Tits, Siskins and of course Chaffinches that was all that could be heard. Back in the car again I decided on one more wander around, this time back at Grantown at Anagach Forest. I parked up and started to wander down the paths and tracks there that were familiar from last time. I heard a distant calling Wood Warbler a few times though I never got close to it. There were lots of Siskins around and the omnipresent Chaffinches though as it was getting late in the day now the wood was becoming quieter. It's interesting how Anagach is more open and aesthetically pleasing than the dense darkness of the forests around Nethy Bridge. I had a good wander around but by now it was getting late, I was getting tired and was having no luck with any Crossbills at all. I was just trudging back towards where I'd parked the car when I heard the unmistakable jipping call of Crossbills! What's more these didn't sound anything like Common Crossbills, being much higher pitched and quieter though not the metallic staccato call of the Parrot Crossbill. I spotted six birds which landed in a tree near my. I peered up at the branches, trying to get a view of one in the tree but they were too well hidden. A minute or so later and they were off again flying away over my head. I was confident that these were Scottish - the call had sounded very different. Result!

Elated at this late bonus tick I headed back to the car with a spring now in my step and headed back into town. Time for a celebratory Chinese takeaway I thought and this time went for a Beef and Mushroom in Black Bean Sauce. Then it was back to my hotel room to eat and to rest a bit. After that and because it was a bit too early for bed yet I went on a walk down to the Dipper stream where I saw a bird speed off down the stream. I decided to follow the stream down through what proved to be a lovely bit of parkland with singing birds serenading me as I went. There were Willow Warblers and countless Siskins all around me. Eventually the stream fed into the Spey itself and I went to sit down by the side of the river for a while. A pair of Goldeneye were sitting on a rock in the middle of the river though they sped off as I approached. It was all very peaceful as dusk settled gently on the area.

I found a colony of Wood Anemone by the riverside

I headed back to the hotel, ordered a double Old Pulteney whisky in honour of Ewan Urquhart (it's his favourite whisky apparently) and went back to my room. There I read for a bit and then at around 10 pm I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer and I was soon fast asleep. It had been a successful first full day up in Scotland.

Monday

I woke up again in the middle of the night in order to be down at Loch Garten for the start of the Caper Watch. Whereas yesterday I hadn't felt too bad first thing, today I felt absolutely shattered - the cumulative effect of too little sleep was starting to take its toll. Out in the hotel car park I found myself scraping ice from the car windows - it was much colder than yesterday (in fact Aviemore was the coldest location in the whole of the country it turned out at -4 degrees!). As I drove along in the dark I kept going through ominous patches of mist and I couldn't help but wonder if the Watch would end up being a wash-out or whatever the mist equivalent term should be.

Once again I detoured to the start of the Forest Lodge track for a listen. This time in the cold and the mist it was even more eery in the dark. There was a distant Tawny Owl calling away and gradually getting closer. I wandered a few yards up the track to see what I could hear but there was nothing of note. Just as I was getting back to the car I heard the whirr of wings as something flew away in the dark. This bird sounded large and powerful: much bigger than a Wood Pigeon or anything like that. I've little doubt that it was a Caper but as it was unseen it didn't really matter. So two near misses in two days - close but no cigar.

Next it was on to the Caper Watch. As the road started to descend towards Loch Garten suddenly I hit an ominous wall of mist which lasted all the way to the car park. Once again we were ushered into the hide where we could look out on nothing but mist. It was all very depressing. As I was so tired it was hard to summon any sort of optimism about the prospect of spending two and a half hours staring out the window. At one point it did start to clear briefly but then it soon came in again. Instead I listened to the warden talk about the plight of the Capercaillie and how it's numbers are crashing, due almost entirely to human disturbance apparently. They are very shy birds and disturbance at their lek can put them off very easily. Man's encroachment into their forests with buldings and roads was reducing the areas where they felt safe. The warden pointed out that even in the Abernethy Forest there was a road going through the middle of it. Apparently there are 31 males left in the entire forest and total numbers of birds in the whole of Scotland are less than one thousand. There were some note of optimism though: on some private estates where there was no disturbance they were holding there own and conservation efforts were now being focused on planting more forests to make a corridor linking the various areas of the remaining Caper population. Apparently the Loch Lomond and Deeside populations are all but gone now. It's for this reason that the Loch Garten Caper Watch is so important: birders blundering into leks can cause real damage apparently.

A waste of time looking from the hide

Given how tired I was and the state of the mist I didn't last more than about half an hour before I gave up and went back towards Grantown. I decided instead to wander around Anagach Forest which was mercifully less misty and full of birds. In the end there wasn't much to report apart from some more heard-only Crossbills: two flocks of Scottish and one single Common.

Anagach Forest in the mist

Anagach Deer

Next it was back to the hotel for my cooked breakfast. After that I felt that the most productive thing I could do was to catch up on some sleep which is what I did. I was woken after about an hour by an RBA text coming in reporting the White-billed Diver still at Portsoy (I had it set to all Rare+ in mainland Scotland). That was encouraging as that was exactly the bird I was going to go for today anyway! Feeling refreshed from my sleep I got together my gear and loaded up the car. Then it was off to get some petrol and lunch before I set off along the A95 towards the north east. It was a route that I remembered from my previous trip and as I passed the various distilleries along the "Whisky Trail" I listened to Radio 4 with a feeling of cautious optimism. 

The miles crawled by (it's a slow road and one often gets stuck behind a lorry) as I drove through unremarkable farmland when suddenly without warning I found myself at Portsoy. This turned out to be a pretty little town, with all the houses made out of granite, perched on the top off some cliffs looking out over the sea. From my pre-trip research I knew to go to Marine Terrace where there was a good viewpoint and this indeed turned out to be the case. I could see a bench on a little grassy knoll nearby so went to set up there. A quick scan with the bins revealed a number of birds dotted about on the sea. What was immediately noticeable was how good the conditions were: the sea was wonderfully flat and there was bright sunshine behind me as I looked out so everything was beautifully lit. The only problem was that many of the birds were very distant and this indeed was the one issue that worried me: would the bird be too far away to ID correctly?

Looking down on Portsoy harbour from the view point

I needn't have worried after scanning only for a few minutes I found the White-billed Diver, a good distance out but quite unmistakeable with the large white uptilted bill clearly lit up. What's more it was a lovely summer plumaged bird and one could make out it's white collar and smart black head. I watched it for a while and then another birder came over asking about the Diver so I let him have a look through my scope. Also present were a couple of Black-throated Divers and quite a few Razorbills and Guillemots as well as the usual Eiders and Gulls. A few Sand Martins were flying around by the cliff top and a Yellowhammer was singing nearby in someone's garden which bordered a large field. Pleased with my success I had my picnic lunch whilst looking out on the sea and pondered what to do next.

Garden Yellowhammer

I knew from my previous trip that Lochindorb was sort of in the same area so I decided to stop off there on the way back home. It was another slow drive towards Inverness before turning off and heading up to higher ground. I eventually saw the moorland terrain that I recognised as I came to the turn-off and headed down the single track road towards the loch. There I started looking out for Red Grouse and periodically I came across birds poking their heads up above the heather. I parked down by the loch shore and sat there staring and the wonderfully remote scenery contentedly for a while until another car came along and chose to park right next to me and I decided to leave. I curb crawled along the road looking for more Grouse and managed to find a few more before it was time to turn around and head back to the hotel.

Red Grouse

Lochindorb Redshank

It was mid afternoon now and I'd done all my planned trips for the day already so I decided that another nap was called for. After that I felt that I'd more or less caught up on my sleep deficit and decided to head out to get some food. However, there was such a queue at the Chinese that in the end I went to the Co-op and got some healthy pasta salad option instead. I didn't want to mooch around the hotel all evening so I decided to drive back down to the Abernethy Forest to see what I could see. I wandered about in a contented manner before coming across a couple of RSPB wardens who told me about a viewpoint for roding Woodcock. I went to have a look but it was going to be another hour before they'd actually start flying and I was feeling tired already and wanted to get an early night so instead I headed back to the hotel and soon went to bed.

Tuesday

Today I was heading back but even though I had a long day's driving ahead of me I decided on one last go at the Caper Watch. Thus I was up at stupid o'clock once more though this time I decided not to bother with the Forest Lodge listening hors d'oeuvre and went straight to Loch Garten. As I drove along the same road yet again through the spooky forest I reflected that however beautiful this forest was, I'd really had enough of slogging around it trying to see a wretched Caper and that if I didn't see one this morning it meant that at some point I would yet again have to come back here to try for one - sometimes I wonder why I do it! Anyway, fortunately it was warmer this morning and there was no sign of the dreaded mist. The warden opened up the hide and once more I stared out at the familiar view. The Redstart was singing away to the left of us as usual and the sun gradually rose and started to warm things up a little. My mind drifted off and started to think about my forthcoming journey back home.

I was woken from my reverie by the warden who was checking out the forward hide coming back. Apparently he'd found a male Caper and was going to take us to have a look. Now, the forward hide was much smaller so they have a first come first served ticket service: when you enter the hide first thing they give you a ticket, partly to keep track of how many people visit and partly so those who arrive first get first dibs on the forward hide visit. Now, once I'd worked this out I always made sure that I was first in the queue waiting for them to let us in in the morning so I was first in line for the hide though actually there were so few of us this morning that he said we could all go at once. 

We hurried along to the hide and the warden tried to put us onto the distant bird. It was "you see that Y-shaped tree, then behind that there's a question mark shaped one, go back from that to a very straight one and it's a bit to the left of that..." sort of thing. Someone had it in his scope but it was too high for me to see through. After what seemed an agonising long time though actually was only a minute or so, I picked it up in my bins at some 200 yard range. I could clearly see it's really thick black neck which stood out above the heather. It was all rather chaotic in the hide with the warden trying to make sure that everyone could see it but eventually I was able to get my scope out and onto it though my view was partially obscured by a tree. I had a go at digiscoping it though the amount of jostling and bouncing around in the hide and the surprising amount of heat haze for that early in the morning meant that my efforts belonged firmly in the "record shot" camp.

Distant Caper

Still I'd finally seen one! We watched it as it fed (they eat pine needles, heather and bilberries apparently) and then it suddenly moved rather rapidly off to the left. The reason for this turned out to be the arrival of a second male though this was out of our sight way off to the left. Fortunately there was a remote camera out there so we went back to the main hide to watch. The two birds eyed each other from a distance but seemed unsure of what to do next. The warden who was commentating guessed that they might be young males, hence the lack of lekking. Since they were just sitting there and I'd got my view and I had a long drive back today I decided to head back hotel to crack on with my departure. As I drove through the forest I reflected that I might not be back here for some time now, though I still needed to see Northern Damselfly so at some point I'd have to return.

Back at the hotel I enjoyed my last cooked breakfast and then went back to my room. I tried to take a power nap before my long drive but my mind was now firmly fixed on the journey ahead and I couldn't rest. So I packed up all my stuff, checked out, fuelled up the car and got some sandwiches and snacks for the journey and then headed off on the long slog home. Because of my tiredness I took it nice and slow and stopped off a couple of times for a decent rest and a power nap. The traffic was actually fine all the way down until I reached the M42 where an accident there delayed me by an extra three quarters of an hour so it wasn't until about 8 p.m. that I finally arrived home to the bosom of my family for a well-earned cup of tea and then something to eat.

Reflecting on the trip I couldn't really have asked for more: I'd seen all four of my target species as well as the usual specialities of the area. The weather had been wonderful (it hadn't rained the whole time I was there and this is Scotland!) and everything had worked out fine. All in all a highly successful trip. As far as the all-important trip list goes it consists of the following:

Harleqin Duck, Eider, Long-tailed Duck, White-billed Diver, Red-throated Diver, Black-throated Diver, Capercaillie, Red Grouse, Scottish Crossbill, Common Crossbill, Crested Tit, Tawny Owl, Osprey, Wood Warbler, Dipper, Common Redstart, Tree Pipit, Redshank

A Tale of Two Ducks

This is a tale of two ducks (or more accurately five ducks!). One was to alleviate some patch boredom and one was a full-on Code Red scramble for a county tick.

Duck 1
I was getting bored on my Patch. Whilst there had been a trickle of migrants now passing through I'd personally yet to see any apart from a couple of Little Ringed Plovers. Each day I would dutifully visit the Meadow floods in order to count the number of Shelduck that were about today (it varied between 4 and 12), check that the two Oystercatchers were still there (they usually were) and to see how many Redshank were about today (betwen 3 and 7 usually). This is the nature of patch birding of course but too much saminess can be bad for the soul.

To inject a bit of variety last Friday I decided to pay my respects to the long-staying female Long-tailed Duck that had been loitering in the county for some time. It was initially located at Dorchester but had recently moved to Cassington GP's just up the road from me. So to make a change from my Port Meadow patch duties I decided instead to go and look for it. I parked up in Yarton near the church and ambled down the bridleway looking out for early spring flowers as I went. The weather was rainy and windy so I'd donned my full waterproof gear to protect me from the elements.

Red Dead-nettle

In less than ten minutes I was at the appropriate pit though there was no obvious viewing point. I found a gap in the hedge and a quick scan with the bins soon located it on the far side in front of an island. I tried some video footage but the wind and the distance made for poor shooting conditions. It was spending a lot of time asleep though did wake up briefly for a preen.
 

The best videograb I could come up with I'm afraid

After a while it decided to slope off elsewhere and I decided to return home for a cup of tea. Still it had been a nice little diversion to see what is already my third Long-tailed Duck for the county though they are always nice birds to see.

There were quite a few Sweet Violets in flower

---

Duck 2

One week on and I'd only been thinking the previous day (as I was trudging around Port Meadow in the rain) that it was about time that I had a county "Code Red Scramble" again - that moment of great excitement when something good turns up in the county and it's all systems go to try and see it. In my day dream I was going through what birds at this time of year (still rather early in the spring season) might in reality actually be plausible and I came up with Ring-necked Duck as a possibility - April was after all a good time for this species. The last record in the county had been in April five years ago when an elusive drake turned up on Otmoor one evening (there was also a record of one on the Thames at Iffley the following winter but no one seems to know much about that one). Anyway, this was still a species that I needed for my paltry county list and I certainly wouldn't say "no" should one turn up. 

Amazingly I had less than twelve hours to wait before I was rudely woken up by a text coming through at 7 a.m. on Saturday morning. Now normally I have my mobile switched off at night but I'd forgotten to switch it off before going to bed. I had been meaning to have a lie in: it had been a hard week of work coupled with the fact that the rest of the family were now in Easter holiday mode and were consequently going to bed later which left me stuck in the middle going to bed later and still getting up early for my work. Mumbling an apology to my VLW I fumbled for the phone to see that it was a message about four (FOUR!!??) Ring-necked Ducks at Pit 60, found by Dave Doherty though currently not in view. I got dressed and stumbled downstairs to collect my thoughts. Four was a really good record: usually they turn up as singletons and this was a good count even by national standards. Apparently there had been some multiple bird records in Ireland or on the Hebrides or somewhere at some point but for mainland Britain this was a really good record. A quick text exchange found that there was currently no sign of them so I headed back upstairs and read my book until my VLW was awake and ready for her morning tea. During this time I got a message that they'd flown off so "that was that" I thought and my VLW and I spent some time putting the world to rights whilst sipping our tea. However this domestic tranquillity was suddenly interrupted when another text came through: the birds were back and on view from the hide at Pit 60. Time to scramble the Gnome Mobile! I suggested to my (less than pleased) VLW that I'd do the morning shopping on the way back and I hurried off to get my gear together and to fire up the Volvo.

Pit 60 was about twenty minutes away as the Gnome Mobile flies. From past experience I knew that parking at the top of the lane left a long old slog so I decided to risk going down the lane where there was a spot for a couple of cars half way down. Fortunately one slot was still free and I parked up and hurried down to the hide. As I approached the hide door I mused that this moment when I opened the hide door was like the famous Schroedinger's Cat thought experiment of quantum mechanics: suddenly the unknown status of the birds (were they still there or not?) would collapse into a single known outcome when I took a look. OK, so I'm a real science nerd (I do have a doctorate in theoretical atomic physics after all) and that theory is not applicable in this case anyway (for reasons I won't bore you with) but still it was with nervous excitement that I opened the door to find several of Oxford's finest all sitting there in a relaxed frame of mind and calmly watching the birds. Relief flooded over me and I got down to the business of seeing the birds for myself (tick!) and then taking some photos and video.

Ring-necked Ducks

There were indeed three smart drakes and a female all looking splendid in their spring finery and all actively diving and looking happy. However, in order to try and limit my haemorrhaging Brownie Points I knew that I didn't have long to stay so got on with taking my photos and video. They were rather distant though the light was good and there was no wind so the process was relatively straight-forward. I chatted briefly with the birders there (Mark Chivers, Terry Sherlock and Ewan Urquhart) and then as other birders started to arrive I said my farewells and started to head back towards the car, calling my VLW as I did so to ask here to text me the shopping list. I did take a bit more time as I went back and stopped to admire the Violets that were now coming out everywhere. A Blackcap was warbling from the hedgerows and Chiffchaffs were singing: spring was springing and I was a contented bunny as I headed back to the Gnome mobile and then back to Oxford to do the weekly shop.

Greater Periwinkle

In speculating about the origins of these birds Ian Lewington had in a radio interview on BBC Radio Oxford suggested that they may have come over last autumn and over-wintered in Spain or Morocco and were now making their way north again - in other words doing their usual north-south migration but on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Anyway, wherever they were from it had been great to see such smart birds and in such a good number. What's more, whilst it had certainly been a bit of a Blitzkrieg Twitch it had injected a welcome bit of excitement and variety into my dull patch birding life. Moreover, I had a shiny new county tick to cherish. The first of many this year I hope though it's going to be a hard push to match the six that I had last year. I wonder what will turn up next.