Great Tew & Thenford Church :: 02 November 2024

It had been a long week at work for both Kev and I, so we decided not to chase around the country and to stay local. There has been a large influx of hawfinches to the country with many reports of birds flying over, particularly by people out at key sites monitoring migration of various species. We decided that hawfinch would our target bird for the day. As we were local, we didn't have to set out too early as we would be waiting on the light rising - I picked Kev up at 7.00am.

The hawfinch is a striking and elusive bird, best known for its large powerful bill capable of cracking open hard seeds. Though native to the UK, it is a rare sight due to its shy nature and generally low population, boosted in numbers by migration in winter months. They are the largest UK finch and exhibit a beautiful mix of colours, including a rusty-brown body, a blue-grey nape, and striking black markings on the wings and face. They prefer mature deciduous woodlands with hornbeam, beech and yew trees. They can also sometimes be found in parks and large gardens with suitable tree cover.

Historically hawfinches were more widespread across the UK but are now mainly concentrated in certain areas, such as the Forest of Dean, the New Forest, parts of Kent, and woodlands in Sussex and Surrey. They are on the UK's Red List for conservation concern, highlighting the need for habitat protection. They are relatively quiet birds, but they have a distinctive 'tic' call that can help identify them when hidden in treetops.

In the winter of 21-22 there was a significant number of hawfinches at Great Tew in Oxfordshire, and this was repeated in 22-23, but last year there were really no reports at all. With this year looking like more of an 'irruption' than last year, many hawfinches have arrived from mainland Europe, and it is likely the habitat around this village is likely to be of interest to this species again.

We arrived and met up with Dave South who also wanted to catch up with some of these elusive birds. There was a slight mist and light was generally awful; it was obvious that there would be no award-winning photos today. We worked around the church, then split to look along the main road and down into the village. Lots of other berry and seed eating birds fed around the trees including many redwings and a handful of mistle thrush. A pair of jays appeared regularly, occasionally calling - a loud, harsh, and rasping screech. The most common call is a repeated, grating 'raak-raaak' or 'shreeeek' which carries over long distances.

We spent several hours searching without success, so decided to head to Thenford, where John-Friendship-Taylor had reported spotting three hawfinches the previous day. The best vantage point in the area is from St. Mary’s Church, a picturesque medieval church with sections dating back to the 13th century. It showcases elements of early English Gothic architecture but has undergone several restorations, particularly in the 19th century. The church's tower stands as a striking feature in the local landscape.

Dave joined us there, and as we stepped out of the car, a raven's call echoed from a distant pine. We spotted its head rising above the treetops as it called, its distinctive bill clearly visible. Circling the church, we noticed another birder perched on the far wall of the graveyard. He mentioned he'd been watching for about 45 minutes without seeing anything noteworthy but was facing the church and the trees behind it - opposite to the direction we expected most activity. Referring to a photo from the previous day, we identified the tree where two of the hawfinches had been seen and began our vigil.

Eventually, the other birder left, followed by Dave, leaving just Kev and I to continue the search. We watched as redwings, jays, and mistle thrushes busily fed on berries, hoping our target birds would soon appear.

Time was getting on, but I saw birds drop into the top of a distant tree, looking very much the right size and shape. Sure enough there were three hawfinches, confirmed through the scope. In under a couple of minutes they dropped from the tree down and out of sight in the lower canopy. We waited but we had no further joy.

A flock of jackdaws, conceled on the other side of the trees, started making quite a racket and then circled in the distance. I commented that it was a bit early for a murmuration but within seconds the reason for their displeasure became apparent - a peregrine flew through.

We waited for a while and were amused to see a grey heron perched on a tree out in front. Though it's more common to see grey herons standing in shallow water or wading along riverbanks, it's not unusual for these birds to perch in trees when they are resting. When perched, they may appear slightly out of place due to their large size and typically aquatic habits, but their adaptability is a hallmark of the species. In the tree, the grey heron adopted a relaxed posture, with its neck slightly retracted and its sharp beak pointed forward, scanning the area and pool below.

Mrs. Heseltine drove past us in a buggy and was notably displeased with our presence in the churchyard, insisting that we should have contacted "our" Rector to request permission to stand there. We explained our purpose and assured her that we were being respectful of the space, but our response did little to appease her.

A little later, another gentleman approached us, and his demeanor was far more congenial. We chatted about the birds, and he kindly asked if we could do him a favour by ensuring the church door was properly closed - a request we were happy to fulfill.

It was a pleasant day overall, and we were able to spot our target bird, albeit at quite a distance - a refreshing change from the recent intensity of Saturday birding.

Acres Down :: 03 February 2024

We decided on a return trip to Acres Down, aiming to tick a few species we had missed on our previous visit. Reports of lesser spotted woodpecker had been sporadic since our last trip, and we hadn't yet tried to spot goshawk or woodlark.

On arrival, the car park was busy once again, but as we approached the favoured tree of the lesser spotted woodpecker, we noticed fewer birders compared to our previous visit. Perhaps some visitors had ventured on walks, some accompanied by their dogs.

While crossing the car park, we heard the calls of firecrests and once again managed to spot and track an individual in the holly across from us. I attempted to capture a photo, but the early morning light and the shade under the trees made it a challenge.

We waited for a while watching the tree and hearing occasional drumming to our right and behind but no signs of any woodpeckers passing through. I eventually saw a coal tit, having listened to them repeatedly on our last visitt and not seen them. Kev @kev07713 wandered off and watched a flock of finches and picked out a couple of bramblings which I thought I'd pick up when we went in that direction - they were gone when we looked later and I’d lost my chance.

No one had seen the woodpecker all morning and so we decided to take a chance and go for a walk and make use of our time here - it may never show. We'd heard some drumming from some distance behind and headed in that direction to look for likely locations. Unfortunately, none of them held our woodpecker although we did see marsh tits, treecreepers, a firecrest, and on the return a pair of goldcrests.

We stopped to check if any woodpeckers had been seen but none had so we went back towards the car and out onto the heath. On our last visit we had looked from here but ventured no further but now walked round to the point and overlooking heather clad slopes. Three birders were ahead of us, and we stopped near to them, listening to woodlarks.

Before long, our first woodlark appeared high in the distance behind us. Several more and one-by-one followed suit, taking flight and soaring into the sky above. Though often distant and silhouetted against the grey sky, their song betrayed their presence. The woodlark is a diminutive ground-nesting bird renowned for its melodious and intricate song and has a surprisingly powerful song despite its size. Their calls resonate across large distances, particularly in expansive habitats like grasslands, heathlands like that we were on, or open woodlands.

At this time of year you can also observe buzzards engaging in various displays and behaviours as they prepare for the breeding season. This can involve calling, chasing off other buzzards, or even engaging in aerial conflicts. We counted more than five buzzards out front and another couple to our left - while the five were mainly soaring, the two to our left were engaging in some territorial disagreement.

Like buzzards, goshawks exhibit territorial behaviour, especially during the breeding season. So, in February, they are often diligently defending their territories against intruders or competing goshawks. Goshawk males seeking mates stake out territories using aerial acrobatics and vocalizations, make it an opportune time to observe them. Luckily, we managed to spot an individual beyond a distant line of trees, though its presence was discernible only through Kev's scope.

We set off across the heath to see if we could find a Dartford warbler, a birder having reported seeing one around the gorse on the heath on our last visit. We searched back and forth but came up with nothing. While searching we saw ponies and two brought the Dr Doolittle 'push-me-pull-you' to mind.

Eventually we returned towards the car and stopped as we encountered another marsh tit and views of firecrest in better light.

Year list: 131

A New Year :: 01 - 07 January 2023

Happy New Year to you and yours! It is the start of a new year and New Year's Day found Kev @kev07713 and I meeting up at RSPB Otmoor for a wander round early doors. I had to be back by lunchtime for my daughter finishing her shift at work, while Kev could stay later and so we travelled separately. Once on the reserve we saw many of the usual species and kicked off our year lists with 51 species, Kev adding a couple more along the bridleway and Roman Road. Nothing of particular note and no outstanding photos

The following day Alan Boddington reported seven waxwings at the main entrance gate to Brandon Marsh near Coventry. They were reported at 9.51am and I was on the road about an hour later. On the way the roads were wet but as I turned down Brandon Lane the road was completely under water - a car was at the other end of the ‘puddle’ wondering what to do. In fact it was easily passable for now and so I drove through carefully and turned down for the reserve, stopping to see if I could locate the waxwings in the rain. None.

I checked WhatsApp to find a message "Final Waxwing total before they flew was 12". Damn. I made for the Visitor's Centre to see if there was any news - no one else around. They were closing the Centre before the roads became impassable - on my way out I added jay to my year list as two flew over. My first dip of the year - I'm sure there will be more. On the way home, just outside Marton, two puddles had almost met in the centre of the road but now on the way back they had joined, and the water was now almost 9 or 10 inches deep - fed from water coming down the slope on the right. In many ways going home now might be the best thing that could have happened – it is possible the road could be closed.

Wednesday saw us driving to Scotland to see my mum and brothers - an extra week off work. With reports of white-tailed eagle on Hunterston Sands on Boxing Day I'd asked my mum to keep it there until I arrived - hopefully I'd find something in the area. When we arrived, I looked on Birdguides to see what had been reported and over a late lunch up popped a glaucous gull on the pool by Auchenharvie Golf Course and then on the roof at Dunbia Highland Meats. The light was dropping as we checked into our hotel and so there was no point going now.

The following morning sunrise would be almost 08.50am and so it was after breakfast before we set off, arriving at Stevenston Point. With guillemots, razorbill, a raft of very distant common scoters, a red-throated diver and more on the water there were a few good birds but all very distant. As I scanned on my scope another birder arrived, and I asked if he'd been to Saltcoats - the glaucous gull had been reported not long before. He confirmed that it was he that had posted the sighting and confirmed the bird was back on the roof of the factory. Charlotte and I packed up and made for Saltcoats - a glaucous gull would be a lifer.

We parked at Auchenharvie Golf Course and while Charlotte stayed in the car, I walked down the path to the meat factory and met another birder scanning the pond and then the roof of the factory. I joined in and we worked along the roof but couldn't locate our bird - the other chap said that he was going down to Ardrossan harbour to tick purple sandpipers for his year list but would return and perhaps the bird would be back.

I walked further along the path to find there were more roofs and within a couple of minutes had spotted the glaucous gull. I excitedly dropped my scope on the tarmac of the factory car park and was quickly approached by a security guard that asked me to return to the perimeter of the site - only reasonable. As I repositioned the gull dropped onto the ground and it was then I could see quite how big it was! - a very large (the second biggest gull in the world), pale gull - up to 77 cm in length and can span 170 - 182 cm across the wings.

Adults are mostly white with a very pale grey back; pure white wingtips. Juveniles (as this one) are white or pale tan with light brown markings and again no black on the wingtips. It breeds in the High Arctic, winters farther south in a variety of habitats - rarely far from a large body of water - and often seen mixed with flocks of other large gulls. They eat virtually anything, from small rodents to seabirds to starfish, as well as fruit, insects, carrion, and rubbish - here it was hanging around the abattoir/processing facility looking for scraps - to be fair, there were a significant number of gulls doing the same.

The glaucous gull returned to the roof and occasionally flew a circuit around the facility. It was interesting to see the bird against the other species (often thought to be large themselves).

Another birder turned up to take photos and we had a nice chat as we watched - he mentioned that there was a reliable spot in Saltcoats for purple sandpipers, one of my target birds along this stretch of the coastline. Once we'd had our fill I headed back to the car and announced to Charlotte that I wanted to make one more stop - we made our way along to the area suggested but in the short time I had I didn't locate any sandpipers. I did have great views of a seal basking on the water's edge. Ringing records show that purple sandpipers are remarkably faithful to wintering sites, with individuals returning to the exact same stretch of coast year after year; they'd likely be here somewhere.

Back at my mum's house rather a lovely mistle thrush rested in top of one of the fence posts, with song thrushes keeping it company.

The next morning we had breakfast and I asked we return to Saltcoats - I'd had some conversations with some locals on social media and they'd clarified where I should be for the sandpipers. On arrival a turnstone fed on the grass between the beach and the children’s play area, but I wasn't stopping here - my quarry lay elsewhere. I walked to the pools I'd been directed to and immediately saw the sandpipers I was looking for, feeding with redshank and turnstones. The common name refers to a seldom-seen purple sheen on some of the wing feathers. I started taking some photos as they worked up and down the channels and water's edge getting what I hoped were nice shots. The six birds nimbly explored seaweed-covered rocks as they search for mussels, crustaceans, and flies, flashing bright orange on the legs and bill.

Suddenly one of the birds hopped onto a wall, ran directly at me, and jumped down in the closest pool almost as if it was posing - what a great experience. As quickly as it had chosen to entertain, it turned and flew away to the remaining flock.

I returned to the car and Charlotte and made for Stevenston Point to see what might be there. Another (different) seal watched on.

I set up my scope and scanned, standing nearby another birder. Out on the water there was a red-throated diver, several pairs of red-breasted mergansers and distant sanderling feeding along the water's edge. Ringed plover, dunlin, turnstone, and a handful of purple sandpipers fed on top of the pier structure out into the water. A single razorbill and a couple of black guillemots caught my attention - the common scoters were absent.

We were approached by another birder that had been viewing further back along the Point and had seen a single Mediterranean gull, and a dozen or so knot - both had since vanished. He did say that locals had just reported that the white-tailed eagle had just been seen along at Hunterston Sands. This was an opportunity not to be missed - we said our goodbyes and set off.

The white-tailed eagle is an international conservation success story. These superb birds became extinct in Britain in the early 1900s but are now living here again after a re-introduction programme that brought chicks over from Norway to the island of Rum, one of Scotland’s wildest places. Since then, they’ve established other colonies, and have even started nesting in the Lowlands on Loch Leven in Fife. In Norway, white tailed and golden eagles will share the same territory, but in Scotland the two species establish separate ranges. Schedule 1 protection means it is illegal to disturb this species.

They eat largely fish, but also take various birds, rabbits, and hares. Carrion is an important part of their diet, especially during the winter months. Most lambs are taken as carrion. When fishing, they fly low over water, stop to hover for a moment and drop to snatch fish from the surface. During the breeding season while they are rearing young, they require 500-600 grams of food per day, but this drops to 200-300g per day during the winter months when the birds are less active.

When we arrived, we found the eagle on the rocks and just as far away as it could be. Not needing much food it seemed content and in no rush to move. Several birders were already there and had been for some time - discussions centred around whether the rising tide might push the eagle skywards. As we waited, a couple of dog walkers appeared on the righthand edge of the sandbar and walked left with their golden labrador. It took a while for them to approach the eagle as they stopped frequently to take landscape photos of the bay - we wondered if this might provoke the bird to depart its resting place. Slowly slowly the couple and their dog approached and damn me, the bird gave them a cursory look and stayed put - more amazingly the couple just walked by as if they hadn't seen it. The dog didn't stop, and the eagle didn't appear to feel threatened.

Once the walkers had passed, I looked at the time and decided I'd need to get back to meet with mum and my brother - no flight shots today.

We'd tried for the dipper in our usual spot on Seamill beach without success and this lack of success continued through our final morning. Charlotte and I ventured down on the beach and south towards Ardrossan, seeing a kingfisher resting in the rocks, and then both rock and meadow pipits. There was a lot of early fog and we were surprised to see people out in kayaks. Eventually this cleared leaving a 40m bank of fog on the sea to the north.

We turned to return to the car and on to my mum's and spotted ringed plovers on the rocks, razorbill and eider on the water, and then two purple sandpipers on the water's edge. A terrific morning despite connecting with our dipper.

< div class="separator" style="clear: both;">