Kev @kev07713 and I had a chat about whether we could fit in a birding trip during the week. Kev was tied up on Monday, while I already had commitments on Wednesday and Thursday, so we settled on Tuesday. After weighing up the options, we decided on our annual pilgrimage to Deeping Lakes in search of long-eared owls. The site also regularly holds little owls and, at present, a lone snow goose that has been associating with a mixed flock of mute and whooper swans.
With freezing conditions forecast, we agreed to meet a little later than usual, at 6.30am. Whatever we did, we were likely to miss the snow goose leaving the roost as the swan flock headed out to the fields to feed. Continuing a recent pattern, we took an alternative route from Banbury to Northampton because of road closures linked to HS2 works and Google Maps having a mental breakdown; once on the diversion, the satnav sent us off the signed route and along a maze of back roads and villages, eventually depositing us at the far end of the A43 before Northampton - a very strange start to the journey.
We hoped for an update enroute that would give us a steer on where to look for the swan flock. We stopped for breakfast along the way and, sure enough, the update came through: the flock containing the snow goose had relocated to fields alongside Deeping High Bank, north of Crowland Road and east of the Deeping Lakes Reserve.
Armed with this pin drop, we navigated to the indicated fields and pulled in by the roadside to scan the swan flocks. There were two distinct groups: one mainly of mute swans and another, further along the road, dominated by whooper swans. It took only a few minutes before Kev picked out the snow goose and handed me his binoculars so I could confirm it for myself. We then drove on to a small pull-in at the sharp bend in the road leading up onto the Welland Bank, which runs alongside the River Welland.
As we set up the scope and retrieved the camera from the boot, the snow goose promptly sat down, tucked its bill under its wing, and went to sleep - typical! Fortunately, after a few minutes it stood up again and began feeding among the almost 250 largely whooper swans; it sat down a couple more times but was soon back on its feet, strolling about once more. Although the flock was fairly distant, we still enjoyed good views through the scope.
Eventually, I climbed the bank and looked out over the river, picking up various ducks and a grey heron. Over the surrounding fields a few red kites drifted, while sizeable gatherings of corvids moved about in the distance.
By now we were itching to get onto the reserve. We were soon parked up, boots on, scopes balanced on our shoulders, and setting off from the car park. A birder was already stationed on the bank of the River Welland, peering through his scope, so we climbed up to join him to see if he was watching anything in particular. On the river there were at least six goosanders, little grebes, three or four great white egrets, a few Canada geese, and a wide assortment of ducks and coot.
After a while the birder moved on, and we were fortunate to be in position when a large flock of greylag geese lifted from below the far bank and dropped onto the water. We began working through the flock carefully, checking that there were no white-fronted geese among them. Kev then picked out a single pink-footed goose, which swam away from us and out towards the middle of the river.
From the bank it made sense to go through the gate and make our way down to the area where the little owls are usually seen. On the way we spoke with a birder who had already been there and who described the tree in which the bird had been sitting. Before long we were setting up our scopes and scanning the indicated tree, but there was no sign of it. Before I could move on to check the surrounding trees, Kev picked up our bird in a tree further to the left, initially very obscured by twigs.
We repositioned ourselves slightly to the right and, although the view was still not completely clear, we were able to watch the bird much better - I took a few photos while Kev captured some video. A green woodpecker then flew through the area and later returned to land on the far side of one of the trees.
Eventually it was time to pack up and head back along the main track. Kev had already put his scope away while I finished scanning, but I had to call him back when I spotted another little owl, deep in cover in a tree even further to the left. Kev rejoined me and we watched this second bird until it retreated down into a hole, which may well be where they roost or nest.
It was now time to push on towards the hide where the long-eared owls roost. Along the way we encountered a flock of long-tailed tits, and at the head of the group were two treecreepers - a welcome year tick. We also passed several volunteers busy with site management, trimming back trees to let in more light and keep the paths clear. One group was tending a small fire made from the thinner branches; they had the best job of all, being at least close to a source of warmth.
When we arrived, the hide was empty and one long-eared owl was immediately visible, although largely obscured by ivy on the tree. Kev and I each picked up different additional birds, and so between us we felt there were at least three owls roosting. It is always interesting how these birds choose to roost so close to the hide and appear unconcerned by people watching them from little more than twenty feet away. We paused to enjoy some coffee and tea before other birders arrived, and we pointed out the owls to them. While it was good to see the birds at all, it was a little unfortunate that they were so well concealed - though whatever makes them feel comfortable and safe is clearly what matters most.
We later stopped along the track to scan the trees and bushes on the opposite bank, where we have seen long-eared owls perched before, but there was no sign this time. We eventually returned to the car and decided to head on to RSPB Nene Washes (aka Eldernell), hoping to add a few more species to both the day and year lists.
Arriving at Eldernell we climbed up onto the bank and saw a birder scanning the bushes, the same guy we'd talked to at Deeping. It was lucky we had bumped into him as he had a thermal monocular and had located three long-eared owls, one of which was in reasonably clear view (for a long-eared owl), with great scope views.
As soon as we were on two of the owls, the chap with the infrared monocular moved on to see what else he could find. It wasn’t long before we started to pack up to followed him but spotted something land in the trees beside us, calling - a kingfisher. Kev had heard the call and was onto it in a flash, just as a second bird called from our right. The long-eared owl reacted to the kingfisher landing so close and woke - the moment captured brilliantly in one of Kev's videos (here). They continued calling as we searched for them, and then one suddenly popped into view in the tree right in front of us - how we hadn’t seen it sooner was a mystery. The two birds then flew back along the hedge line, one of them remaining pleasingly exposed.
Looking out across the fields, we could see marsh harriers quartering the reeds on the horizon or passing through. Several kestrels were hunting, and a pale-phase buzzard was perched on a series of posts.
The chap with the infrared monocular later returned and began showing another couple of birders where they could get views of the long-eared owls. I was slightly suspicious that the most difficult owl to see might actually be a short-eared owl, and once I had the scope on it the differences in facial structure and eye colour became apparent. It was buried deep in cover and extremely difficult to photograph. We chatted with the other birders, and it soon became clear that the much-photographed tawny owl was not around this year and was no longer giving views from its usual tree hole. There was also no sign of the barn owls, although a new box has appeared on land where we have previously watched one hunting.
It wasn’t going to be a four- or five-owl day; but three is more than enough, and there’s no need to be greedy.
As the light began to fade, we made our way back past the car park towards the area where egrets are known to roost. Although we had seen plenty of great white egrets this year, I hadn’t yet come across a little egret. Before we got too far, Kev spotted a sparrowhawk crossing a field and disappearing into some trees - I was too far behind to see it. A little egret flew past, followed shortly by a great white dropping in among a flock of sheep with three grey herons, and then another sparrowhawk zipped through. In the distance, we also picked up two more marsh harriers.
As we reached the car, two fighter jets roared in the sky, instantly drawing our attention - F-35 Lightning II's; it doesn’t just sound loud, it dominates the soundscape, combining raw power, depth, and weight in a way that is intimidating and unforgettable. The F-35 is a fifth-generation stealth multirole fighter built by Lockheed Martin, combining low observability (although we could see it 😂), and supersonic performance. Apparently one of the most capable combat aircraft in service today.
Most of the UK’s fleet consists of the F-35B variant, designed for short take-off and vertical landing (STOVL) operations. This allows the aircraft to operate from the Royal Navy’s aircraft carriers, HMS Queen Elizabeth and HMS Prince of Wales, as well as from shorter or less-prepared airstrips ashore.
The UK currently operates around 37 F-35B jets, based at RAF Marham, near King’s Lynn in Norfolk. The aircraft has a maximum speed of Mach 1.6 (around 1,200 mph) and is powered by a Pratt & Whitney F135 engine producing approximately 19,500 lb of dry thrust, rising to around 40,000 lb with afterburner and lift fan engaged.
Knowing the journey home would take at least two and a half hours, we packed up our gear and set off, content after a full and rewarding day in the field.
Year list 96.
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