Pete's Birding Blog

Crossbills At Last

2012-01-29T22:12:00.000Z

After working some strange shifts down in London during the week, I could quite happily have spent the weekend catching up on sleep, but I'd seen the forecast, and Saturday promised sunshine and calm conditions. Perfect for short-eared owls. Except I wanted something else. And the lack of wind would mean tree-tops wouldn't be swaying quite as much as they had been of late.

I'd set my alarm for 8am, but was wide awake at 6, and opted to get up half an hour later. Just before 9am, I parked up at the upper car park at Eymore Wood, near Trimpley, to hopefully catch a sighting of some common crossbills.I've seen them before, at the same place, but always right at the top of the trees, and usually in bright light, making them into silhouettes. It was cold, so I chose to stay in my car, and both watch and listen for the birds.

I'd been the week before, when huge flocks of siskins, redpolls and goldfinches feasted on the cones on the trees. Aside from small bands of tits, comprising of blue, great, coal and marsh varieties, there was little else around. A lone buzzard swooped occasionally into the trees down the road, and after 3 hours or so, I was beginning to think it wasn't to be.

Then a small flock - five of them circled overhead, calling loudly out. I craned my neck out of the window and was panic struck as one brightly coloured male landed at the top of a larch tree. Grabbing the camera, I lined up and took a couple of shots. Then I spotted the light meter and realised, as usual, the mode on the camera had been knocked from Manual to something else, and my shots were wasted.

Why on earth Canon can't make a camera that allows a mode to be locked is beyond me, but yet again, I'd failed to remember to check, and a car parking up beneath the tree, spooked the bird. Fortunately, the flock only flew away briefly and returned within minutes to allow for another go. Again though, the birds were right at the top of a tree, and I only bagged record shots.

Then Pam and family arrived, which was a welcome sight - we used to bump into each other frequently, so shared some banter and scanned the trees at the same time. Spotting a pair of crossbills (or canaries, as Pam joked) down the road, we scurried down to try again, and this time the birds were a bit closer, so better shots were to be had.

The birds seem to use their twisted beaks to prise open the cones, and then poke their tongues in, to get the seed. They're certainly acrobatic birds, and balance on the thinnest of twigs to reach the cones. They also seem to eat the buds off trees, doing so on a poplar tree in the car park, which proved to be another challenge, to get a clear shot.

By the end of the day, I had managed a few half-decent shots, and caught up with a bigger flock, near the top of the car park. They fed and then chased one another around the branches.

While I'd not seen them as close as I would have liked, it had still been a good day, and at least I now have some shots of this woodland bird.

Sunday's forecast was for cloud, so I had a bit of a lie in, before checking bird reports. I had planned to spend some of the day searching for the lesser spotted woodpecker at Upton Warren, but I had to fit in the hour from the conservatory first, doing the RSPB Bird Watch.

During which, I read online, that a black redstart had been spotted near Hartlebury, on an industrial estate, so that was my first place to stop off at.

No sign of the redstart (though it was seen later, after I left). There was, however, a berry-laden tree nearby, proving to be a real attraction for redwings and fieldfares. Ok, so the light was awful, but while I waited to see if the redstart would make an appearance, I took a few shots of these winter thrushes.

Quite noisy for redwings, and they frequently squabbled, but there were enough berries for all, and they seemed to be enjoying their fill.

Back at UW, the LSW proved to be a no-show, so I upped sticks and went home. Hopefully it'll stick around for next weekend.

More Owls And A Worcs Tour

2012-01-17T21:36:00.000Z

A new year but the same birds for me, at least for the start. I've been over to Northants for the short-eared owls twice now, though this last visit was interrupted prematurely when an ignorant rider from a local hunt decided to ride across the field where the owls roost, scaring most of them off for the afternoon. Brilliant.

We still saw a few, but they remained generally distant, so I ended up processing images from the trip I made at the very start of the year.

At one point, a pair chased each other towards us, and one came so close, I simply abandoned trying to angle the camera upwards, and settled for watching the bird fly right over-head. A fine sight, I have to say.

Northants does seem to be a good county for birds of prey, with a quick tootle round before the owls yielding several near misses with buzzards, but a couple of half-decent shots of kestrels.

Trouble with going over there, aside from the crowds (some of whom still don't realise that in order to get the owls close, you need to stay still and be quiet, and not chase the owls up and down the edge of the field) and the pillocks on horse-back, is that it is quite some distance to drive, and with the ever rising price of diesel, I'm really having to limit such trips.

So on Sunday, I opted for a closer trip, to check out reserves that I've not been to before, using the Guide Book from Worcs Wildlife Trust. First stop, near Redditch centre was Ipsley Alders Marsh.

With the sun shining, and frost on the ground, it looked promising as I parked up by the gate, grabbed my gear and trundled into the reserve.

First sighting was of a grey heron, soaring in from over the trees, spiralling down and coming to a gentle stop on the posts, crossing the reserve in front of me. Peering out from the reserve map sign, which I was reading at the time, I took a couple of shots, before I think it spotted me, and took flight once more. It could also have been from the fact that the pool was actually an ice rink, so no fishing to had there!

Wandering off around the perimeter, I mooched through some woods, where the usual suspects of blue and great tits flitted around, though the presence of several goldcrests was great to see. Too gloomy for shots, alas. The path then leads out across the marsh, which had it not have been frosty, would definitely have lived up to the billing of being a site for wellies.

Dotted around the marsh are areas of brambles, and on one of these, sat a wren, chirping as I made my way carefully past, given the frost on the boardwalk, and the rather moist areas beneath.

At the end of the wooden part, I made my way over to the far side of the small reserve only to discover that wellies were actually needed afterall, so I had no option but to turn back. The woods on the far side were more lively though, with a pair of noisy nuthatches being the stars.

Back in the warmth of the car, I looked at the book again and opted for a spot called Humpy Meadow, out nearer to Worcester. A most strange field, covered in small humps, apparently made from the hundreds of ants nests across it. Green woodpeckers eat ants, so I had hoped to get a shot, but aside from the humps and bumps, there was nowt much else around.

So, I chose to take a long route home, around some side roads hoping to see something interesting. On one wealthy person's drive, near a gated entrance, were lots of crab apples, attracting fieldfares and redwings. Typical, as I parked up, they scattered, and despite several instances when the birds looked like they might come back, passing traffic frightened them off once more.

All I mustered was a shot of a feeding redwing along the verge from me, and distant shot of a fieldfare at the top of a tree, in an orchard across the road.

I have to admit, at this point I was wondering how my friends were doing over in Northants. Perhaps I should have tried again? My luck seemed to be out, typified by not once but twice, having buzzards fly off from perches near the road, as I parked to get a shot.

Then turning into yet another b-road delaying my journey home, I spotted one sat in a tree, with its back to me. "Please don't fly off" I muttered as I coasted the car to a standstill. It didn't. And with the late afternoon sunshine on it, I couldn't really have asked for a nicer shot.

On closer inspection, there seems to be blood around its beak and talons, and bits of fur on the branch, so I suspect it had been feeding when I arrived, and couldn't be bothered to fly off. Suited me!

Not that I need reminding of how pleasurable my hobby is, but a moment of magic like that, turned a day that seemed a tad disappointing, into one to remember.

A Review Of 2011

2012-01-03T21:40:00.002Z

We're already into 2012 and I've already been to see the owls, but first I promised a review of my favourite photographic moments of 2011.

January

I saw some good stuff in January, catching up with short-eared owls and bramblings, but star of the show was the glossy ibis down on a small, shallow river at Hungerford. It was the first instance since getting a bigger lens, that I wish I'd brought along the 100-400mm, as the ibis was almost within touching distance.

February

Without doubt the short-eared owl, which was possibly the most photographed bird of the start of the year, was the highlight for me, and I almost missed it, being down the wrong end of the lane. It kindly waited though, and in soft, amber evening light, I captured my best perched shots to date.

March

Resisting the charms of the owls (and trying to save some pennies with the ever rising fuel costs) I stayed local and had a magical encounter with a young male sparrowhawk, which dropped into the feeding station at Whitacre Heath. Normally these birds tear through, causing chaos and leaving you cursing at not being given a chance of a shot. This time he stopped, perched up, took a brief look around and glared right down my lens, as I clicked away excitedly from the hide.

April

Another contender for most photographed bird now, when I finally made the effort to go to see the Dartford Warbler at a spot called World's End. I'm sure I've been before, or at least felt like it, when hiking over the hills of Somerset chasing these elusive and rather shy birds. Had to wait for a bit, but when it showed it was stunning. Such a proud singer too. Lovely.

May

At about this time of year, I tend to head west into mid-Wales, in search of early nesting migrants, but my usual location let me down. Fortunately I discovered the charms and rewards of Gilfach Farm, and not only bagged some fab shots of common redstarts, but also masses of full frame shots of pied flycatchers. A definite return is on the cards for 2012.

June

Sharing information is key in this game and having great friends who are willing to not only share, but help locate birds for you is even better. And so came the magic moment of June, when Stuart disclosed the location of a tawny owl to me, then met up with me and helped me find it too! Still took an absolute age to get a clear shot, but just to see one of these in daylight is such a treat.

July

Now this is difficult, as I visited both Shetland and the Scottish Highland this month. At the latter I saw ospreys, grouse and a gem of a long-eared owl, but if pushed, I'd have to say that the day trip to Mousa was arguably the best day out I've had in years. Great company, wonderful weather and scenery and wildlife to make your jaw drop. Ok, so the Shetlands kept some of its treasures away from my lens, but I did catch up with most, and stayed with a couple more.

August

Easy one this, though choosing between the birds and otters on Mull is pretty tricky. My last trip to Mull had been productive, but this time was far better, and minus the midge bites! I'd promised Dad that he'd surely see an eagle on Mull, and by the end of the first day he'd seen both white-tailed and golden varieties. From very early morning sorties in the vain hope of a close encounter with a hen harrier, to afternoon leisure drives, where we'd spot anything from stonechats to golden eagles near the road.

September

I could have included some more from Mull here, but that would mean missing out one of the slimiest, wettest yet most rewarding sessions on a beach in Norfolk, where I abandoned all sense, and trudged through deep mud to get closer to a stunning grey plover in summer plumage.

October

I didn't get out a great deal in the month, but one sunny day tempted me down the M40, to try for red kites. Proved to be a wise move when I stumbled upon a local feeding spot and was left smiling ear-to-ear when I got many shots of these distinctive birds of prey against a glorious blue sky.

November

Owls have been a bit of a theme this year, and so the last 2 entries for this blog post contain a couple of my favourite shots of short-eared owls, taken at a site in Northants. It has been rather hit and miss, though on a rare day off work, I managed a shot I'm very pleased with, with the owl flying right at me, and whenever I can find a suitable frame, will soon be adorning a wall in my house.

December

With the waxwings staying east and no bitterns at Upton Warren (yet), I failed miserably to resist seeing the shorties again. I guess I'll see them a few more times before the winter is out, though I am starting to want to photograph something else.

After 2011, this year really has its work cut out to be as entertaining. I'd best dig out that Thinking Cap Santa gave me recently - come up with some new ideas!

Happy New Year folks!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T11:20:00.003Z

Just a quick post on here to wish everyone who has taken the time to follow, read and comment upon my Blog over the year, a very Merry Christmas.

I doubt I'll be able to get out over the Festive period itself, what with family commitments, but I still have a small mountain of images from recent weeks to process and air.

I plan to post an end of year review before 2011 is out, but until then, Cheers!

Back To The Owls

2011-12-12T10:17:00.001Z

I didn't really need to find an excuse to get back over to Northants to see the owls, but with a streaming cold and tickly cough, and a work's Christmas Party to attend on the evening, it was quite tempting to stay in at home, in the warm. I didn't though, and drugged up to my eyeballs with anti-cold tablets, I was soon parking up at the site, which was already busy.

Stuart and Ken had arrived moments earlier and were busy setting up, and Karen and Paul were already set up and sat in their car, eyeballing the field for movement. I stuck the heated seat on and stayed in my car - no point getting cold before I had to. I just sat watching the others and seeing more folks arrive. Then a familiar face appeared in my side-mirror. It's a funny thing, with the likes of Facebook, that you can know what someone looks like having never met them. And while I'd met his dad before (down at Hungerford with the glossy ibis), I'd never bumped into Craig Churchill himself, until now.

Not wanting to be rude, I got out and wandered over to say "Hello". Craig recognised me too and after a bit of a chat, informed me that he'd just got over a cold like mine, but it had taken 2 weeks to shift. Great. We all then wandered over to where Ken had set up, and waited. Didn't take long to spot an owl - they were flying about over the fields in the distance, so hopefully wouldn't be long before they stirred in the field by us.

With a break in the cloud and some decent light, it was great to see the owls take flight. Not in as many numbers as when I first visited, but still half a dozen or so, still chasing each other and the crows, and still occasionally catching prey.

I think the numbers of people, or more likely the vocal volume of some, kept the owls at more of a distance than before. That said, by the end of the "show", my lungs were at bursting point, my eyes streaming and I was having to eat cough sweets like there was no tomorrow, to hold back the fits. So I probably didn't help with the keeping quiet problem.

By then though, the owls had flown by several times, and while not as close as before, they still provided croppable shots.

Also, I'd managed to get some perched shots, as one of the owls likes a prickly perch out in the field, to sit and view from. Not very close, compared to the Worlaby bird, but pleasing to bag, seeing as everyone else seemed to have got a shot but not me!

As is normal for the site, as soon as the sun dropped below the hill behind, the light was hopeless and we all dragged ourselves away. That said, the warmth of the car was most welcome, and I was pushed for time to be back home, changed and out to work for the party.

Good to catch up with the owls though, and great to meet up with familiar faces, even if their predictions for my ill health are proving to be true. I hate coughs.

Desert Wheatear at Clee Hill

2011-11-27T22:36:00.001Z

As much as I love watching and photographing short-eared owls, I was starting to yearn for a change of subject, and after another trip to the owls which ended up with no photos gained, I was pleased to see a text come through from Dave, about the desert wheatear on Clee Hill. He'd been up during the day, but the light was poor and wanted to return.

We agreed to meet as soon as possible after the bird had been reported, and he rolled up moments after I'd almost been blown off the side of the hill, having opened the car door to get the gear out. Dave informed me then that it was less windy than the day before! Unlike before, the sun was out, and a small crowd of birders observing the bird made finding it very easy.

Among the crowd were Chris and Bob, though I'm surprised I saw them at all, as both were clad from head to toe in camo gear! It was good to see them again, as it has been a few months since we last bumped into each other, and both are entertaining to talk to.

The wheatear, meanwhile was feeding on the steep slopes around the corner from us, so it was a bit of waiting game. Made easier mind, by watching the movements of the birders, who would suddenly grab their gear and head in our direction, meaning the bird was on the move.

Now Clee Hill is a great spot for wheatears in the summer, but obviously in the colder months they're somewhat missed. This made up for it, as it flew into view and started turning over small fragments of rocks, digging its beak into the soil and grabbing at insects and grubs uncovered.

Between feeding, it would perch on something raised up, perhaps a boulder or a pile of rubble.

I think it was slightly bemused by the shutters going off, everytime it stopped moving!

It came pretty close at times, but any movement seemed to spook it off, back to the slopes, and the waiting game commenced once more.

Whilst waiting we watched crows and ravens soar overhead, gliding on the breeze. An eagle-eyed birder then spotted a short-eared owl come in, from fairly high up, and it tried to land and settle on the top of the hill, but the corvids chased it up and over the top, to be lost from view. Plus we were treated to a brief fly-by from a female peregrine falcon.

Occasionally, when the wheatear took longer than usual to return, we'd go for a walk to try to locate it, but invariably we'd end up back where we'd left, to watch it fly in, hop around, feed and then zip off once more.

By mid afternoon, Dave had to leave to tend to his parrot (I kid you not!) and the wheatear dropped in moments later (as Dave said it would), for a last pose.

We followed it down the hill a bit, but I was by then also clock-watching, so said goodbye to both Chris and Bob, and left them to chase the wheatear, while I relished the shelter from the wind in my car.

A new tick for me, and pleasant change too.

Not Short Of Magic

2011-11-19T08:59:00.001Z

Having enjoyed a wonderful session at a site in Northants, I was eager to return, and cashing in some owed time off from work, I persuaded Dad to accompany me again to the location. Not that he needed much persuasion!

It was a fine sunny morning when we set off but by the time we had arrived, it had clouded over - though the weather was supposed to clear, and so it did over lunch. As before, there were flocks of fieldfare, larks and pipits around, but frustratingly, the owls refused to come out to play.

By mid afternoon, I was beginning to think I'd made a mistake coming, but I wasn't alone, as several other cars had arrived and set up in anticipation. Probably to stop his legs from seizing up, Dad wandered along the track, and put an owl up! Didn't fly far, and dropped into the field. But I could then see it sat in the grass, and watched it as it preened, ruffled its feathers, looked all around, constantly and then finally, took flight.

Immediately, another flew at it, and it was like an alarm clock had sounded, and all the owls took off at the same time!

With the sun still out, the light was good, and we were treated to a very close flyby by a pair, one of which perched in a nearby tree. The view was slightly obscured, but the glare we got was almost scary!

Then for the next 90 mins or so, the owls flew around the fields in front and behind us, not bickering as much as before, but still calling and occasionally pouncing or swooping down for a catch.

At one point, which was a real buzz, one turned and flew directly down the field at me. I have to admit to panicking for a couple of seconds when the focus wouldn't lock on but when it did, I had time for a couple of shots before the owl changed direction and flew away again.

With the autumnal colours from the trees behind, and sunlight on the birds, I have to say I'm rather pleased with the resulting shots. Arguably my best yet in flight.

Needless to say I returned again the following day, though the light never really materialised, and the owls came out even later. The highlight though, if you can call it that, was seeing one perched in a tree. It was almost dark though, but because I didn't have my converter on, I was able to open the lens up to F4, whack the ISO up to 1000 and bring the speed down to 1/100th, and hope.

It came out remarkably well and is close to a full frame shot in portrait format. I think I might have to go again... and again! For the non-owl-lovers, you might need to look elsewhere for a few blog entries!

The Shorties Are Back!

2011-11-14T13:21:00.001Z

After dipping on the short-eared owls in Northants a fortnight ago, and then having to host a firework party and hence lose the whole weekend to that, I was itching to get out again to catch up with these winter visitors.

I had a choice, between a site north of Birmingham, which was closest, or another in Northants, which had more owls on offer. I chose the latter, mainly because a number of friends live locally, and were also going that way.

So just after lunch on Saturday, I arrived earlier than planned, and decided to go for a walk around the area - better than waiting in the car!Proved to be a good move, as within 5 mins of wandering along a track, I spotted a short-eared owl out, already hunting over a field.

Excellent. Getting close was a problem though, as there was no cover, so I had to wait for the bird to land, and try to creep a bit closer. Unfortunately, the bird chose to hunt a bit further away each time I did, so I ended up with some distant shots, though I did enjoy watching it successfully catch (and carry off) three voles.

After an hour's hunting, the shortie dropped into the grasses and failed to reappear, so I stood watching the flocks of fieldfare cackling as they flew over in their hundreds. Then another stroke of luck, as a local birder arrived, and I got chatting, and followed him round to another field, where he explained, the owls generally gathered.

And did they gather! By the time we'd walked to the "best spot", we could see 5 owls out, and within 30 mins of that, there were at least another 7 around. I've never seen so many, and it was wonderful. Most of my friends had now arrived, but favoured the other side (avoiding the long walk) but Karen and Paul had followed me round, and were treated to an awesome display by the owls.

They were hunting, fighting between each other and also being chased by resident birds, such as rooks.

For about an hour it looked like the skies would clear and bathe the area in sunlight, but a big bank of cloud arrived to spoil the party, and it quickly went dark, leaving us all wanting more. But it was Saturday, so Sunday's plans had already been booked!

Sunday brought fog first thing, but by the time I'd collected Dad to take him along, it was sunny and looking promising. When I arrived on site, some of my friends were already there (keen!) and Ian soon joined us too.

Unlike Saturday though, we had a longer wait for the stars to appear, possibly because they'd eaten well the day before (Friday was very wet, so they would have been hungry on Saturday).

And when they did come out to play, they favoured the middle of the field, though on odd occasions they ventured a bit closer. Also noticeable was that fewer hunted at the same time. Not that they stopped squabbling! Was fantastic to watch them chase each other, sometimes forcing one to land, and then swooping down low, divebombing the grounded bird.

As before, the light faded quickly, and took with it our chances of more shots, but no-one was unhappy after a weekend like that. Needless to say, I will be going back, whenever I can to watch and photograph these magical birds.

Great to have them in the Midlands, and saves me driving miles up north to see them.

Birds To Beat October Blues

2011-11-01T16:30:00.001Z

Into November already, not that I'm upset to see the back of October. I never really like the month as it sees the end of summer time, meaning I rarely see the daylight, aside from the office window, or a brief stroll to the sandwich shop at lunch, and usually means weekends are wet, windy, cold or foggy, or a mixture of some of the above.

Combine that with the 18th being Mum's Birthday and just over a week later, the anniversary of her death, and I'm not one for smiling much in October. So November might start to bring some more cheer, maybe.

October wasn't bad as far as birding went though, with the red kites recently, I actually managed to see a kingfisher for a few moments at Marsh Lane of all places, and then this last weekend, which yielded a couple of gems.

There seems to be a decent influx of short-eared owls currently, with many familiar places reporting them. One of the closer spots is in Northants, and as Ian lives local to it, I arranged to meet with him in the afternoon.

Before heading to the spot, I opted to divert to take a look around Harrington Airfield, which also has a couple of SEOs apparently, and a great grey shrike. Last time we'd been there, I'd made the mistake of carrying my huge camera bag (which weighs a tonne alone) and the walk to and from the car nearly killed me. I swear I was about an inch shorter in height when I got home. Add to that the weather - freezing and blowing a gale, and with no birds seen, it was one to forget.

Airfields tend to be breezy, so that wasn't a surprise this time, but it was a southwesterly, so warm for the time of year. And I'd found somewhere closer to park, so getting to the bunkers was less tiresome too. Finding something point the camera at wasn't so easy. No sign of the shrike, and it was too late / too early to see any owls.

A lone kestrel and a few yellowhammers were all that I saw, until a small flock of golden plover caught my eye. They were down in a dip in the field, so with no cover to use to hide my approach, it was never going to be any good.

Was amusing though, in that every time I approached, they would watch, shuffle about and then scurry a bit further away. Unlike the ones on Shetland, which came over to see me!

Ah well, I have a few pics of them already, and in better plumage.The breeze was starting to dry out my contact lenses, so I scuttled back to my car for a break, a bite to eat and then the short drive over to meet up with Ian.

Parking up, I scanned the fields for any owls but it was really quiet, and save for a few crows and pigeons, there wasn't much to watch at all. Behind me, on a barn, a pair of pied wagtails called out, and flicked their tails as they chased flies. No sign of Ian either, so I sat back into the car.

It was then that I saw something that wasn't expected. It was near the wagtails, but wasn't one. I did a double take before it dawned on me. A black redstart!! Fantastic.

Ok, so it wasn't as accommodating as the one from Coleshill some years back, and it was a juvenile, so not as good looking, but even so, what a great little bird to see. It seemed to favour perching on the top of the barn, which meant shots weren't going to be easy, and as seems to be norm these days, whenever the sun came out, the redstart hid!

It came fairly close on a couple of occasions though, flicking its tail, showing off that orange / red rear.

Ian arrived, and the redstart hid from him. Typical! So he sat in the field and watched for owls. Alas it wasn't to be our day. With only a fly-by from a sparrowhawk and no camera to attempt a shot, we left when the light faded. Not to worry though, as there ought to be plenty more chances for SEOs before the winter is out.

On to Sunday, and an extra hour in bed. Well, it would have been, had I not been woken by my phone ringing. Steve Seal on the line, asking why I wasn't at Cannock for the shrike? I said I'd consider it, but as it was raining outside, I really didn't think I would bother. But, what else was there to do, other than perhaps house work? I was out the door like a shot!

Finding the spot wasn't easy, but thankfully Stuart's directions guided me to them, where I found not only Steve and Stuart, but also Ken and Dave, all enjoying fine views of the great grey shrike, and no rain either! It was perching on the tops of trees, and favoured a holly tree in front of us.

After dipping on the one at Harrington the day before, this was a good turnaround of fortune, and I was soon snapping away.

Wasps were the dish of the day, and it was very good at catching and then consuming them, without being stung. If only pubs would employ these birds to keep the blighters away from pints of ale during the summer!

While it didn't come as close as the one at Napton, it was on better, natural perches, and was also eating the prey in full view of us.

Strangely, when Steve and Dave headed off, the bird refused to play ball anymore, and didn't return to its normal perch, favouring more distant trees. I must find out what aftershave they use!

A good few hours out though, and definitely worth losing the hour in bed for.

Making An Effort

2011-10-18T22:56:00.000+01:00

The thing with trips like Mull and Norfolk is that afterwards, local sites seem a bit quiet. Add to that car trouble, and it's an effort to get out and about to take photos.

Not that the local sites fail to yield results - waiting in the "spider" hide at the Moors I watched in some amazement as a water rail, normally famed for their skulking nature, climbed up a reed to stand in the sunshine to preen!

A family of wrens at Whitacre Heath's feeding station hide entertained me one morning, with their acrobatic antics in search of food.

And splashing about in the small pool, albeit covered in algae currently, made for a challenging shot, when it was so dark all around. Thank goodness for the 7D's noise management!

Seeing a good forecast for the weekend, I set my alarm for 6am, to force myself out to do something. There was a decision too, between going for a spoonbill that had been showing to folks at Draycote Water while I was stuck in work, or trying for a short-eared owl near Brandon Marsh. Knowing my luck with rarities at Draycote, and also the size of area to search, I put my faith in others reporting it, and headed for the owl.

Turned out I could have maybe seen the spoonbill, as it flew off at about 9:30am, though I'm not sure if it was posing as it had done... and I saw no sign of the owl whatsoever. Was it going to be one of those gloriously sunny days when I see almost nothing?

It could have been, but the day before on a work trip to Heathrow, I'd seen the usual flocks of red kites near the M40, so the temptation to try for some of these fantastic birds of prey dangled a carrot in front of me, and I was soon tootling down the motorway towards Stokenchurch.

Didn't take long to see them. Almost as soon as I drove into Stokenchurch, I clocked one circling at roof-height over the houses. Not sure what the residents thought of me screeching to a halt, and jumping out with a bazooka-lens, but I've failed to curb my enthusiasm over the last 5 years or so, and it's not going to happen any time soon.

Moving into the centre of the village I was amazed to see these large birds of prey, flying around at the sort of height you'd normally see pigeons or blackbirds, around here. Must give you a bit of a surprise if you aren't used to them!

I parked up beside a pub on the Common, where another 'tog was already enjoying the action. After a while, I wanted to try elsewhere, as my aim was to get shots of some perched. I saw one perched up in a tree behind some posh houses, but the light was wrong and there was no route to get to where it would be more acceptable.

So, off on another magical mystery tour of the area, picking random roads, and hoping to stumble on to something good.And did I ever! A cottage, where the owner was obviously enjoying feeding the birds, and there were masses of them taking advantage of the free lunch. To add to it, was the sunlight behind me, clean blue skies behind the birds, and no wing-tags to worry about.

Diving, swooping, twisting and turning, snatching food off the ground or from one another, the entertainment from these birds was relentless and thrilling. In the strong sunlight, the colours and markings of the feathers were really amplified, and showed off how vibrant red kites are.

Also noticeable were the number of juveniles in the flock, with tan-coloured heads and orange eyes, compared to the grey heads and yellow eyes of the adults.

And it was great to listen to the calls too. I could have stood there for hours. I did, actually! Taking hundreds of shots. I know my neck and back are sore from contorting myself to get shots above me, and when the tripod-mounted camera could reach no higher (or more accurately my neck couldn't bend back any further), I switched to my 50D and 100-400mm lens, for some good old hand-held shooting.

Another drive around the lanes failed to provide any perched birds, but it did show me the number of attractive pubs in the area... must make a note to visit again, perhaps with someone in tow, to discuss kites over a pint of local ale...

So while the day failed to deliver the shots I wanted, it did provide many other fine images, and reminded me that you get nothing without putting in a bit of effort. Roll on the next weekend!

Norfolk

2011-09-26T21:08:00.000+01:00

After being too busy with work at the start of the year to get over to the east coast, an invite from good friends to stay a few days proved impossible to resist, and having blagged some more time off, I dragged Dad along with me for the trip. Working through my lunch allowed me to finish a bit earlier than usual, and by 8pm I was trundling towards Hunstanton, to the caravan site where Steve (Seal) and Ann were staying.

A cup of tea and baggage drop later, and we headed to the Lifeboat Inn at Thornham for a bite to eat and pint. I was pretty knackered so we didn't stay out late, and besides, we had been promised one of Ann's cooked breakfasts in the morning!

The first morning brought calm conditions, with a bit of sunshine, so Dad and I zoomed over to Cley, to see if any of the bearded tits were around. Last year I'd seen flocks of 20+ birds, but this time we hardly saw any. That said, a bit of patience yielded some sightings, and I managed a few half decent shots, especially when one male climbed up a reed right next to the path!

As usual, the marsh harriers refused to fly anywhere near us, and my distant shots taken in blind enthusiasm shall end up in the bin. Unlike shots of a little egret that was fishing in one of the small pools behind the shingle beach. Without the sun to blow the whites (or make it hard not to), getting nicely exposed shots was easy, and so were ones with a reflection, as the pool was like a mirror.

A scan of the sea over the brow of the shingle hill revealed a diver, and not miles out. Unfortunately with the (now) dull conditions, we couldn't make out whether it was a red or black throated one. Later inspection showed it was the former, so another set of images for the bin! Also around were Arctic skuas (good to see after Shetland), gannets, terns (little and sandwich), various small flocks of waders and a common scoter.

Titchwell was next on the menu, where I hoped to get some shots of the curlew sandpipers and little stints Steve had bagged earlier that week. As is often the case, the subjects I wanted didn't come close, so I ended up photographing dunlins, ringed plovers and godwits. Not bad though.

Steve was very keen to get shots of a grey plover and this meant a trip down the path to the beach. Was worthwhile, as whilst scanning the flocks of waders, we clocked a grey plover in partial summer plumage. Unfortunately, getting to it was nigh on impossible, with mud and water in the way, and the bird kept retreating further away when we moved.

Cloud greeted us on the next morning, so after a trudge around Thornham and then Salthouse, I treated Dad to a ticket to Cley Marshes. I had hoped the hides would yield waders galore and perhaps a sight of a spoonbill, but alas, all we did see was a very distant grey phalarope and lots of wildfowl. Disappointing, and as before, the marsh harriers kept their distance from the hide!

A brief stop off at Thornham was actually quite productive, albeit accidental. Dad had seen a redshank feeding near the bridge, and was taking some shots. I opted to join him, and we commented that the way it was feeding seemed unusual. That'd be because it wasn't a normal redshank! No, it was a spotted redshank, as was discovered later when looking at pics from the trip!

The day ended waiting and eventually watching a barn owl at a familiar location, though there was more action from the local marsh harriers. But with rubbish light, it was never going to yield anything special.

Saturday was forecast to be good weather and so it proved. Hardly a cloud in sight, and it took us all to the beach at Titchwell once more, to try to track down the grey plover seen before. Steve headed off in one direction, and me another. While he was taking fabulous shots of waders in flight, I'd tracked down the plover, and after creeping over to it, managed some reasonable shots.

Steve soon joined me, but we never managed to get close to it again, and were about to give up when we saw one elsewhere on the shore, but in full summer plumage! What a gorgeous little wader, although Dad did comment on its resemblance to a judge. Problem was, as before, between us and the bird was a load of water and deep, slimey mud.

Try as we might, there just didn't seem to be a route to it, and eventually Steve said he'd leave it for another day. I was in agreement, but part of me nagged, reminding me that it might not be there another day, or the weather might deteriorate. I had also by now already got wet feet (leaky boots) so I said to Steve that I was going for it, and splodged off through the mud, across a very gooey mussel bed, towards the bird. Steve encouraged me onwards (probably laughing at me sinking in the mud) but it paid off, when I found the bird not to be flighty at all, and just like the golden variety seen on Shetland, this black and white version inquisitively and slightly cautiously, approached me!

I couldn't believe my luck, and took a hatful of shots of this unusual wader. At times, I had to switch to portrait mode to give the bird enough space in the picture.

The problem (perhaps just with me?) is when I'm getting such shots, I feel guilty that people with me aren't, so I was chuffed to look over to my left and see Steve, who had found a less muddy way to the bird, and was busy getting as many different images of it as he could.

In the end, we walked off to leave the bird where it was feeding, both of us grinning from ear to ear with the images achieved. I was less pleased when the coldness and dampness of my boots registered on the hike back, but they started to dry out when we watched the barn owl again on the evening, and the gas fire in the caravan dried them in time for the next day.

Another bright start on Sunday tempted me back to the beach, to try to emulate the sort of fantastic flight shots Steve had managed whilst I was messing about in the mud after plovers, though the weather wasn't quite so good, as typically, the birds wouldn't perform as they had done for Steve. Wrong aftershave perhaps?

The grey plover was around again, though even less accessible than before, so I took a few shots, only when it ventured close to a channel of water, so I got reflections. Persistance paid off though, and I managed some flight shots of curlew, oystercatchers and small flocks of waders as they flew past me.

The day ended as brightly as it had begun, and whilst waiting for the barn owl to show, a young marsh harrier kindly circled above us, as it banked, catching the amber sunshine of the sunset.

I was more pleased with this than the barn owl shots later, I think!

Norfolk and September were being very kind to us, as Monday brought yet more sunshine. It also brought us a very, very long wait for the tide to retreat, so we were waiting around on the beach for hours, hoping the flocks of waders would move and start to feed. Occasionally we'd get a small band of sanderlings scurry by, or the occasional flock of other waders go by, but mainly it was rather quiet. I can't say dull, as being stood on Titchwell beach in fine weather is fab, even without anything to photo.

And after a brief meeting the afternoon before, Di Stone had joined us, so was pottering around the beach with us, hoping for some waders to approach, and like us, trying to avoid looking at the moon...

Eventually the feeding grounds were revealed, and the birds came over in their hundred. Sadly by now, the clouds had also decided to make an entrance, so getting shots of flying subjects was trickier than usual. Still, managed a few and occasionally in sunshine too. Once more, the day ended stood looking for owls, but the windy conditions meant the owl didn't come out to play, and we left with just a few shots of a low-flying typhoon.

Suddenly Tuesday was upon us, our last day. A visit to Thornham failed to provide any close shots of the grey partridges Steve and Ann had seen before, and I was between minds whether to head home in the gloomy conditions. Steve suggested Stiffkey marshes, an area I'd not been to before. Technically I had, as it is along the coast from Wells, and I'd walked into it years ago on a hike with my 100-400mm lens. Anyway, the area looked barren, apart from some very, very distant seals on a sand-bar. I thought it was worth a walk through the marshes anyway, and it didn't take much persuasion to get the others to tag along. By the time we had reached the shore, Steve had got it in his head that it was worth waiting for the tide to go out, to see if we could get any closer to the seals.

Ann and Dad chose to head back to the shelter of the car and a nice warm cup of coffee, whilst us two idiots stood in the shallow water watching the water move away from us, providing a sand bank to approach the small seal colony. It took ages, but was very worthwhile. We spotted another bar of sand exposed, and by walking round on that, got us close enough for some half decent shots, though we were being watched by a couple of the parent seals, from the channel of water between us.

They were mostly youngsters and looked so relaxed on the sand, despite the gale and cloud. The sun made a brief appearance, allowing us to get some more colourful shots, before Di arrived too, to join in the fun, though it was short-lived, as the seals opted to go for a swim, probably knowing what weather was approaching... we saw it too, but were about a mile away from the cars! Once again, I managed to soak my boots and feet, so the hike back was rather vile.

As is always the case with breaks, we didn't want to leave, but with work again in the morning, I had to. Steve and Ann had been wonderful hosts, keeping us both amused with their antics and humour, not to mention well fed with the cracking breakfasts. And Norfolk hadn't been unkind with its wildlife stars either!

Magical Mull

2011-09-08T23:31:00.002+01:00

Last year's trip to Mull, after the excitement of Uist and drama of Rothiemurchus, was actually a bit of a disappointment on the birding front. The otters made up for it, but the midges threatened to put a downer even on that experience. However, Ian had told me that his annual trips later in the year were always better, so I had high hopes for this week on Mull.

The drive up was ok until we reached Glasgow, when there was a horrendous electrical storm, and it poured down. The roads were awash and the wipers on full speed. Dad was glad to be a passenger for once after driving Mum all those years! We had opted to stay near Oban for the night before the ferry crossing, and Ian and his family joined us later at the same hotel.

A trip to Tescos in the morning, and a fill up, and we were soon stood on the top deck of the ferry, sailing over the calm waters to Mull. It was a treat for the start of the trip, to be able to enjoy the full crossing in the open air, getting views of juvenile black guillemots in the water below, and seeing Duart Castle from the water as we approached Craignure.

I had before the trip, promised Dad that he'd see eagles on Mull, but with wildlife, you just never know. It took less than an hour on the isle to break his duck on these awesome birds, seeing a huge white-tailed eagle sat in her tree, beside the loch. On closer inspection, we noticed others in surrounding trees!

Heading away from the eagles, we took in the scenery of Mull, which is stunning. You really run out of superlatives to use for the place, especially when the sun comes out, which it did on that very first day. Calm too, making the lochs into mirrors, reflecting the beauty around them.

Reaching the loch beside which we were to stay, Ian spotted an otter right beside the shore, feeding on a crab on the seaweed. As quickly became the norm, we found somewhere safe to park up out of the way, and dived out to get some shots of the furry fella. And close up he was! Scampering around the roadside, when the otter was submerged, i found myself very close to him as it surfaced in a small rocky cove, to eat the crab. I could hear him crunching through it.

Then I suspect the otter spotted / smelt us nearby, and performed the usual vanishing act. They submerge, but never seem to come back up! Amazing creatures.

The cottages were lovely. Sat on the lochside, with a small shore and single track road between us and the water. To the left was a view to the open sea, to the right marshes and hills, and in front, Ben More, and surrounding summits. Inside was spacious and we had everything we needed for a comfortable stay.

The first morning we awoke on the island, the weather had deteriorated, but our moods were lifted by firstly seeing an adult white-tailed eagle flying powerfully across the loch, from the sea towards the hills, and then moments later, seeing 2 more battling the strong winds, high up over the cottage. It got better still, when the pair was mobbed by a golden eagle!

With only one event planned during the week, we generally spent each day, driving around areas, hoping to encounter wildlife. And generally we did! Again, using the radios between cars meant Ian's amazing eye-sight could yield dividends for everyone else, as he'd spot something, and we'd pull over to photo.

Seeing eagles and otters were a daily event, and in addition, we found hot spots for hen harriers and short-eared owls (though these remained very much at a distance). Other attractions included ravens, hooded crows, buzzards, swallows, pipits (rock and meadow), stonechats, golden plovers and other waders on the shorelines, such as curlews, oystercatchers and of course, masses of grey herons. We even saw the occasional merlin chasing birds, but never perched up, plus kestrels hovering over the fields and sparrowhawks circling the trees.

Finding the hen harrier location provided an early morning target each day, though success was never guaranteed. The males would tend to belt along at speed, following water channels whereas the females (ring-tail) could appear from anywhere, and never seemed to fly towards you, despite being hidden (sort of) in the car.

Our boat trip was rearranged due to the tides, but as we headed out on it, both Ian and I had crossed fingers, as the last time we'd done the same trip, one of the eagles had brought a hare back to the nest, and neither of the adults came down to see us. This time it was different and my word was it good. Both adults came out, and did so a couple of times. To see them so close was incredible and as before on Skye, you were hard pressed to choose between watching and trying for shots.

The male on one instance gave us no choice, as he swooped down, so fast, making a whooshing sound to grab the fish in a split second, before powering off back to the juveniles. The female was less confident, and circled several times before taking the food. Made it easier to photograph though!

We were also treated to see both come out together, following the boat like perhaps something off a prehistoric movie - they really are massive. Flying barn-doors!

Not wanting to over-feed them, we soon made off, for a tour around the loch and surrounding bays. We saw seals lazing on rocks and also large flocks of shags swimming in the sea together. Most unusual, like it was an organised swimming class!

Thinking the day couldn't get any better, as we drove back from the trip, I spotted a very large dark shadow of a bird, moving low across the field next to the road. Braking to grab my bins, I suddenly realised it was a golden eagle! Panic stations ensued, parking up, alerting the others and trying to get the gear out to get shots.

I've seen golden eagles before, on Uist, in the Highlands, but from a distance. This one was much, much closer, and was either circling the fields low, or landing in amongst the ferns. On closer inspection, we spotted a second bird higher up the hillside, seemingly watching the antics of the other.

According to a passing local, the pair have been at the site for a very long time (50 years he reckoned) and the grey "eye brows" on the one bird certainly gave it an elderly look! Not that it mattered, as the birds still had the magic for me. I am still smiling now, thinking about the moments.

Eventually the pair were both circling in the skies, and gained altitude quickly, flying off into the distance over the loch. Another memorable encounter on this fabulous island.

The remaining days consisted of early starts (and late finishes) for the hen harriers, timing the tides for the otters, and visiting the white-tailed and golden eagle sites whenever possible. The fine meals in the Craignure Inn served us well, as did a treat from the fish & chip van on Tobermory quay one afternoon.

We encountered the golden eagles again, this time Ian spotting them, when we'd split up one afternoon. A mad drive around to meet up ended in apparent disappointment, when Ian was buzzing from bagging shots of the pair hunting, but had just seen them fly off over a ridge. Undeterred, I headed after them, albeit by road, and was amazed to spot one of the birds peering over the top of the hill. It flew off when it saw the "bazooka" appear, but we caught up again round the next corner, and I managed to get a distant shot of one carrying a freshly caught mountain hare. A big crop, but who cares?

Visiting the WTE nest site when the boat trip is on, is worth a go, as we watched one of the birds eventually fly out to the boat (only once, which was a shame for the trippers), get the fish and then battle against the wind, to return to the trees. Gave us a few seconds of shooting as the bird approached us across the water.

As with all single week holidays, the end arrived far too quickly. On the last day, I finally managed a few half decent flight shots of a hen harrier hunting in some sunshine, although she refused to face me for the shot. More otter action of course, in usual and unusual locations, and before we knew it, we were on the ferry heading back to the mainland.

If I had to sum up Mull with one word, it would have to be "magical". What a place. We saw more than we could ever have hoped for, and got photos and memories to make us smile for years to come.

Scottish Highlands: Final Part

2011-08-22T14:01:00.004+01:00

Ok, so I'm miles behind on this blog, but here's the last of the Scottish Trip entries.

After leaving Aviemore, we had arranged to meet up with a friend of Ian's based in Forfar, who works on an estate, and has set up a hide for viewing red squirrels. We met up with Charlie in Forfar initially for a chat, before heading over to the woodland.

Sadly the weather wasn't with us that day, and it was either gloomy or piddling it down, making shots very tricky. That said, we made the best of it, and took a few of the rather bedraggled looking squirrels that came to visit. Not sure if they know how lucky they are, to have someone as generous and kind as Charlie is, looking out for them!

With free nuts and seed laid on, in steel cages to prevent bigger birds like jays from nicking the food, the squirrels came and went in turn, sometimes eating in front of us, or scurrying off into the woods, to bury their food.

Amusingly, jays seemed to watch them, before digging up the food and scoffing it!

The woods were alive with other birds too. We could hear buzzards around, and a sparrowhawk buzzed the feeders twice. Blue, great and coal tits nipped to and fro, and there was an abundance of chaffinches too.

With the rain getting worse, Ian and I opted to head back out of the woods, down to where Charlie had seen a tawny owl in a tree. We had to wait ages for the owl to show, and when it did, it took a very brief look at the weather (and probably us), and dropped back down into its hole.

We hoped that the owl would show again (it didn't) but while waiting, Ian spotted a stoat, mooching around on a stone wall near us, which provided a few moments of shutter-action, before it hurried off into the field behind. After a poor rabbit, no doubt.

And so came to an end, a fantastic trip north of the border. Shetland had been magical, and the Highlands had delivered what we'd hoped for. It just left us both wanting more... roll on the next trip, that's what I say!

Daily Mail and The Times

2011-08-15T17:32:00.003+01:00

Just a quick post to announce that I managed to get some of my images in the National Press on Friday - the Daily Mail and The Times both published articles based on my photographs of the osprey being chased off by the ducks, as recently seen in Scotland.

Not sure at the mo, whether they made it to the printed versions, as I only found out today they'd been used.

Regardless, it's hugely pleasing for me, and I'm very proud.

The Daily Mail's online version can be found here:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2025277/Osprey-takes-dunking-brave-ducks-fighting-lives-make-cunning-escapes.html

The Times' version needs you to be logged in, but if you have a subscription, just search for "osprey" and it'll show up in the results.

I'll be adding the screen-grabs from the articles to my website soon.

Scottish Highlands: Part Two.

2011-08-10T22:37:00.011+01:00

Another early start at the fishery, we both sat there hoping for a change of luck. As before, several ospreys circled the area, but none came in, preferring the nearby River Spey instead. Frustrating to say the least.

Then at last, a change in luck. An osprey chose to try for breakfast from the loch, and after a couple of failed attempts, instead of flying away, sat on a tree stump across the water from us. Of course this made for some excitement, and everytime it took off, we prayed it would take a fish near us, giving us a chance for a decent photograph.

Remarkably, the osprey tried over and over to catch fish, diving down into the water, even landing near our watcher (parked down near the offices), apparently unconcerned at his presence!

Then finally, the osprey appeared to have dived and caught a fish. Staying in the water for a moment, we had time to aim our lenses and start firing when we spotted, behind the bird, a tufted duck hurtling in at speed. Amazingly, it spooked the osprey, which took flight, abandoning its catch, and after shaking dry, returned to its perch.

The tufty then bobbed back to where it had been, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

A few more failed attempts later, once more the osprey plunged into the water and we locked on... only this time, making an entrance Stage Left, came a crazy mallard.

Flying in, quacking, wings flailing, it again took the osprey by surprise. For a brief moment, all we could see was an explosion of water and spray, and the normal tranquility of the area shattered by the frantic quacking from the mad mallard.

Then, as before, the osprey let go of its catch, fleeing from the water with the still fuming mallard in pursuit.

There were young ducks around nearby, so we could only assume it was being very protective, if not rather insane!

With time running out (the fishermen come in at about 9am), we started to think that we had again missed out, a thought that was probably crossing the mind of the osprey! But, it hadn't given up, and with no lunatic wildfowl around, the osprey splashed down, facing the right direction for us, and caught a large trout.

To witness this event is truely amazing - especially how they manage to control the fish under the water, and then heave themselves out of the water, to fly off with the catch.

It all happens so quickly though, you really have to hope that you've managed to get a focus-lock on the bird, and maintained it, as it has taken off, which with droplets of water all around, isn't that easy.

After that, we didn't see another osprey, but we'd more than made up for the day before! Terrific stuff.

Breakfast tasted better that morning, and once more, we headed north to the coast. Ian had previously been to a spot called Chanonry Point and seen dolphins close to shore, so we found ourselves wandering along the beach there, with many other hopeful folks. Even though the tides weren't quite right, we still enjoyed close views of several small groups of dolphins, probably from one pod feeding in the area. No leaps though, and with a big lens, was tricky to get them in the shot!

Making our way back south, we aimed for Findhorn Valley, known locally as the valley of the raptors, as it's a good place for watching out for eagles, and other birds of prey. Trundling along the lane slowly, I spotted something that didn't look quite right on a fence post, and asked Ian if he'd reverse the car back for me to have another look.

Raising my bins, I looked along the fence and my jaw dropped when I realised what we'd found. A long-eared owl, sat out in the middle of the day, in plain sight for once! A mass panic ensued, with us reversing further down the road, to allow us to grab the cameras, before rolling slowly back in the hope it hadn't flown off.

It hadn't. What a gem of a find!!

It looked at us several times, whilst looking around the area. The tufts stood proudly from the top of its head, and those orange eyes were fantastic to see. Normally you're lucky to see even one of the eyes peering from out a tree or bush at you, so this was a real treat.

Bored of posing, it turned tail and vanished into some woodland nearby, but not a bad start in the valley!

Parking up at the end of the road, we chatted to some birders who'd parked their camper van down there for the day, and watched buzzards flying over the hillsides. Also around were peregrines and kestrels. And on the peaks, herds of deer grazed, giving a sense of scale to the valley sides.

Amusingly, whilst we were chatting about buzzards and eagles, and the different calls they have (using apps on our phones to demonstrate), we both looked at each other as if to say "Was that call from your phone?" - and then realised what we could actually hear was the distant call of a real eagle!! Spinning around, we scanned the sky and could just about see a golden eagle soaring over, being chased by a gull. Too far up for a photo, other than a record shot, but still wonderful to watch. It didn't hang around long, vanishing over the tops of the hills.

Despite spending a morning watching ospreys, we didn't complain when another came in, fishing along the River Findhorn, pausing occasionally to hover over the water, before moving along again. They're such striking birds, and frequently seen all over the Highlands. We even watched a pair through the window of the pub we dined in one evening!

The river also held dippers, though they were shy and I have masses of shots already, so we didn't hang around too long, and just before we left the valley, we spied an osprey sat in a tree-top across the river, crying out. Maybe for the parent bird? Perhaps that was what we'd seen fishing before.

An early start and a long day, but my word, what a day!!

Scottish Highlands: Part One.

2011-08-10T22:31:00.005+01:00

The morning's weather in Aberdeen matched our mood, despite being about to spend a few days in the Scottish Highlands, we were badly missing Shetland and the company we'd shared on it, and somehow the pouring rain greeting us back to the mainland felt apt. The drive to Aviemore should have been simple enough, except we opted to ignore pricey diesel around the town in the hope we'd find some en route cheaper... we didn't, and had to find a garage via Ian's SatNav, as the range on the car was rapidly running out!

As we did last year, we aimed for Lochindorb initially, in the hope of perhaps encountering the red grouse on the moors. Unlike last year though, the weather was still gloomy when we arrived, and aside from distant flocks of geese on the loch, not much else was even making a sound. Driving past the wooded area near the hall, we saw a spotted flycatcher perched on a fence, but I failed to get anywhere near it, and was promptly eaten by midges!

Thankfully on the drive back to the main road, we did see a family group of red grouse, and they didn't flee when we parked the car up to take some shots. The light was rather strange, and although it appeared gloomy at the time, the colours of the birds and vegetation were not lost.

After checking into our B&B, we popped into Rothiemurchus Fishery to discuss the time we needed to be there for the following morning, and if the ospreys had been performing for other visitors. Apparently the BBC had been filming there and had had some success, so we left in hope.

A brief drive up to the top of the Cairngorms yielded a view of mist and more rain, and no sign of the ring ouzels apparently around. After seeing some on Clee Hill a while back, I wasn't too bothered, and it's not really Ian's cup of tea anyway. Birds of prey are, so we aimed for a local public nest site of ospreys, near a loch not far from Aviemore, and as before, found the light to be in the wrong place for any decent shots!

With Ian's back playing up, I was left on my own in a graveyard, though I wasn't upset, as I'd already clocked a family of spotted flycatchers dotted about the area. There were 4 fledglings, being systematically fed by the parents. It was just a case of getting close enough, and the headstones provided a little cover to use, for approaching them.

I managed some shots of them alone on the graves, but the shot I really wanted was of them being fed. Luckily, a group of 3 youngsters landed near me on a headstone, and the parent birds flew in to feed them every few minutes, providing me with good chances for that shot.

Eventually, the birds flew off into the woodland nearby, and I turned my attention to the ospreys once more. The light improved a little, but as is often the case, as soon as it did, the osprey took off, and disappeared off along the nearby river!

Waking up early on holiday isn't a good thing, and it's made worse when the alarm clock gets the time wrong (iPhones!!) and you get up an hour earlier than necessary! By 5am though, we were sat in the hide looking out across the surface of the fishery loch, waiting patiently and in hope of the sight of an osprey.

Problem with getting there so early is of course the lack of light, so while you're hoping ospreys come in to fish, you want them to do so as late as possible, to be in the best light available. That morning was very dull, with almost nothing to photograph. After a few hours, an osprey came down, caught a fish and flew off, but it was at an angle I couldn't point my camera at properly, and was flying away from us anyway. And that was that for the morning. Disappointing.

The benefit of getting up early though, is that even after sitting watching for ospreys for about 5 hours before breakfast, you have the whole day left after, to do other things. So we did. Heading north to the coast, we stopped at Spey Bay. I suspect on a calm, sunny day, it would be a fantastic spot to explore, but on a grey windy one it wasn't welcoming. There were plenty of birds, but mostly distant, including terns and mergansers, but the light was terrible and everything grey.

I tried to take some shots of swallows catching flies on the estuary waters, and had a play with the fancy focus modes on my 7D, which do make things a bit easier for such difficult shots, but ultimately even if I did get anything sharp, there were no colours in the image, so I doubt any will be aired.

Instead we aimed for some friends of Ian's, who had moved up to the area, and watched the RAF fly over their place, enjoying a warm cup of tea and some cookies.

Shetland: The Last Few Days

2011-08-08T20:58:00.010+01:00

After failing to see a red-necked phalarope on our first trip over to Fetlar, we decided to give it another go. With fair weather, perhaps it would be more suitable for seeing them? We'd only just started driving on Fetlar after disembarking from the ferry when Neil spotted some fins off the shore. Dolphins! Rapidly we scrambled from the cars and set up, to try for some shots, albeit somewhat distant. Still great to see, and served as reminder that on these islands, you really need to carry a camera at all times, as you just never know what you might see around the next corner.

At Loch Funzie, the Arctic terns were hovering again over the edge of the pool, diving for small fry, the fields were littered with juvenile wheatears using rocks and old walls to perch upon, and nearby on a fence post, a snipe was taking a break from its tiring drumming flights.

As I wandered around the loch, I spotted a sleepy dunlin, sat right beside the road. Even when I set up and took some shots, it only bothered to keep one watchful eye on me.

Once more, we all spread out around the area in search of the elusive phalarope, but as before, there was no sign. While we searched, Kate set up near a nest of starlings, and as the star attraction was hiding, I joined her. The starlings were bringing back masses of grubs for the nestlings, posing on fences and nearby rocks before disappearing into the hidden nest.

Keeping a watchful eye on us and for skuas, a whimbrel perched high on a rocky outcrop, close enough for some reasonable shots. Telling curlews apart from whimbrels was a source of conversation during the week, as some birds seemed to have characteristics suggesting they could be either. I'm pretty sure this one was a whimbrel though, as the head stripes are plain to see...

Whilst having our packed lunches, I spotted a pair of Arctic skuas nearby, and tried for some shots, but they have a habit of flying fast and very low, making it very tricky to get a lock on. Plus they blend in so well, once they've lost the sky as a background, they almost blend into the surroundings.

With still no sign of the phalaropes, Paula got word of killer whales that had been seen off the coast, on the mainland at Esherness. Also at the same time, Kate, who'd been for a look down at a nearby beach, returned with info of a local loch, known by a resident to have phalaropes on it, seen daily by him.

Now given the facts at the time, a choice of seeing one of the birds I'd come to Shetland for, or driving back in hope of seeing orcas, that might well have swum off, I chose the birds. Had I known all the facts, I might well have gone for the whales...

The party split, as Ian and Kate desperately wanted to try to see the whales, whereas Neil and I wanted to see the phalaropes. It was a fair old hike away - about a kilometre to the loch, and as we discovered, mostly up hill! The loch itself was nestled in a hillside, and surrounded by marshland. Neil went one way, I went the other, scanning the reeds and hoping.

It just wasn't going to be our day. Nothing. I even missed an Arctic skua fly over my head as I was busy trying not to sink into the mud at the time, and then we heard from Ian... the whales had been there all day. Had I known that, and thought there was a genuine chance of seeing them, I might have gone with them. As it was, we tried to get back to see them also.

It was a race against time, that we lost. Having to wait over 90 mins for the 2 ferries, cost us dear, as upon arrival, the tide had started to go out, and taken the orcas with it. We missed them by a mere 5 mins. As I said, just wasn't our day. That said, the two people in our group who most wanted to see them did, so that was all that really mattered.

And besides, the sea food meal Magnus had prepared and then had to hold on to while we chased whales, made up for missing out. What a feast! Like all of his meals we enjoyed, it was scrumptious!

With nothing then planned for the final days of the trip, and with gloomier weather, I tried to absorb the atmosphere of their cottage, the view, the sounds as much as possible, as I knew I'd miss it when I had left. To be able to stand on their driveway and watch gannets diving for fish, divers flying over, back and forth to the nests, terns crying out, dancing across the sky, and perhaps the sighting of an otter, made it so special. I'm not sure I could put up with the winters, but during the lighter months, it is certainly magical.

Unlike my attempts to photo a gannet diving... which were all dreadful. A bit distant and it was raining too (excuses, excuses), I did witness gulls attacking a gannet. The gannet seemed to have "caught" something a fisherman had discarded, but no sooner had it taken off, the gulls, mainly great black-backed, launched their assault. Grabbing the gannet by its tail, the gannet dived into the water (like they do when skuas attack), but lost the catch doing so. The gull promptly stole it, and left with other gulls in pursuit. All very dramatic, and all within a few yards of the cottage.

As was becoming the norm, the day ended with yet another otter sighting, this time with close views of one swimming near us. Was very glad of the noise control of my 7D, as I'm sure images from my 50D would have taken hours of filtering to get usable images from, given how gloomy it was then.

And so we reached the end of a fantastic stay, watching Neil and Kate depart at Sumburgh Airport, leaving Ian and me to potter around new areas of Shetland we'd not seen before. Needless to say we found a certain rude village name for a photo, and managed to spot another otter when Ian was looking for a merganser! This one was a rather tatty looking one - a few fights perhaps?

Enroute back to the cottage Ian saw a curlew perched on some purple heather which made for a great image, despite the weather. And we even found some woodland, which didn't fit with the rest of the island!

As when we arrived, we left Lerwick in the rain and gloom, which is better than leaving it in glorious sunshine, as we'd have felt worse than we already did. For us it wasn't the end of the trip, as we still had a few days in the Scottish Highlands to enjoy, though after Shetland, its beauty, wildlife and the company we'd enjoyed, it was never going to be quite as good.

I raise a glass to toast a successful trip, and to Paula and Magnus, and the PINK tour, for making it so very, very special.

Shetland: Mousa

2011-08-06T10:23:00.012+01:00

After the excitement of seeing the otter so close, had died down a bit, we set off for the ferry to Mousa, for the night trip to see the storm petrels. Ian kindly lent me a proper flashgun for my camera, and whilst sat on the quayside, I tried a few recommended settings to see which worked best. That said, it was hardly what you'd call dark, and the moon laid a white trail across the calm water. It was beautiful.

On the boat, the skipper then announced that flash photography had been stopped on the island, to protect the birds. The trip would have to be just for observing the birds for a change. I actually wish I'd taken over my kit lens, and tried for some twilight images, as Kate took some gorgeous shots whilst we were walking from the boat to the Broch. The Broch is actually a prehistoric stone, round tower, and the petrels nest in the gaps in the walls of it.

We had to wait for some time for it to be dark enough for the storm petrels to come in, but when they did, they resembled bats, fluttering around. I guess they're not great at remembering where in the broch (or stone walls nearby) they live, as they'd arrive and try several locations before disappearing from what little sight we had.

To see the sea in that light and so calm was according to the skipper, quite remarkable.

After the late night, we had a chilled out morning before heading back to the ferry again, this time for a day trip to Mousa. And what a glorious day it was too, clear skies and rather warm. Well, it is summer I suppose!

As soon as we cleared the boat, I knew the place was going to be special - some locations just have a sort of feeling about them, like Skomer. Walking away from the quay, I soon spotted a juvenile wheatear, hopping around on the grass in search of insects.

In fact there were several, and the more you looked, the more you saw. Whilst photographing the wheatear, a small flock of birds flew by, feeding on flower heads on the lichen-covered rocks. Closer inspection revealed they were twites! I had to try to get some shots, as I've only a couple of shots of these, and they were fair crops.

Creeping forward on my knees, I hoped to be able to get within range of perhaps a half decent pic before they flew, when unexpectedly, one of the group flew right towards me, and posed on a rock! With the yellow lichen backdrop, it looked great.

With Paula as our guide, she pointed out where she'd seen black guillemots before, and true to her word, one was sat on the edge of the cliffs, soaking up the sunshine. As usual, it was then a case of seeing if I could approach and not disturb it. I could, as it didn't seem bothered by me in the least, though getting shots of a black and white bird in full sunshine posed the usual exposure problems. I think I managed it just.

Whilst trying for a different angled shot, I found myself lying on the edge of the cliffs, with a firm grip of my lens of course, and was slightly startled when a long black head poked out of the shadows below, to look up at me. A shag! With the rich blue sea behind, and a shadow cast across the area, I tried for something a bit different. Waiting patiently, the bird eventually positioned itself so half its eye was in the sunshine, sparkling like an emerald, but the rest of it darkened by the shadows. I could waffle on, but the pic is worth a 1000 words, apparently...

By now the others had moved around the headland and were photographing more shags sat on the rocks below, and in the light that day, their colours, similar to perhaps a glossy ibis, showed well, especially against the blue sea behind.

Fulmars constantly whizzed by along the cliffs, and walking a bit further along, I spotted a nesting bird, with a chick behind. I assume it was the adult's partner, but as it flew by, the nesting bird called out, as did the chick behind it.

Paula was busy talking to a group of birders who had informed her that there was a pair of red-throated divers on a small loch not far away (nowhere is really, as Mousa isn't exactly huge!) but that set my pulse racing, and I hot-footed it over to the loch. Fantastic. A pair on a tiny loch, in good light for a change. Needless to say, Ian, Kate and I plonked ourselves down in the long grass, avoiding the thistles, and waited.

They seemed to like the attention, and glided around the pool looking most contented with life. Closing their eyes in the sunshine, and occasionally tucking their heads down for a nap, it was a serene scene, and I took hundreds of photos. Recalling the issues I'd had before with heat haze (peregrine in Devon), I wanted to be sure I'd got some sharp images.

I had, and was chuffed to see how vibrant the throat is, how detailed the feather markings on the back of the head are, and to see that red eye so clearly, was fantastic. A real highlight for me, in an already amazing trip.

Also around the area, resembling hobbies at times in their flight actions, were Arctic skuas. With a pointy bit on their tail, they really look menacing in flight, though also like hobbies, they're difficult to photo!

Despite having several hours on the island, the time to leave arrived too quickly for me, and was dragged from the island really. I could have stayed for days, in that weather. As we wandered past the Broch, we spotted a very carefree wheatear juvenile, who was too close for me to get in the shot.

I have to say, Mousa is definitely in my Top 10 locations now. Beautiful.

Shetland: Noss And More Magic

2011-08-05T23:26:00.012+01:00

A day for boat trips, that was the plan for Wednesday. One in the afternoon, out to the cliffs of Noss, then later in the "dark" one to Mousa, an island where storm petrels live in a Broch, beside the shore. It was a good job Paula had taken the trouble to book the boat (Dunter III) as we saw several people turned away who'd turned up on the day for the day trip.

As soon as we'd left the shelter of the harbour, the gannets started to follow us, which was fab to see, as were the pirates, the Bonxies who soon moved into our wake. Such powerful birds, which leisurely followed until they got bored, and either soared off, or powered past us, like we'd dropped anchor.

On the rocks were seals, both common and grey , plus shags practising yoga, or so it seemed. Blasting past the boat were black guillemots, puffins and fulmars. And we'd not even reached the sea bird colony of Noss yet!

When we did, the smell reminded me of both Bempton and Skomer, but unlike those two, here you're underneath the cliffs, and risk being bombed. Amazingly, given my track record I managed to escape, unlike Kate who christened her nice coat with some white stuff. Enough of the pooh-talk, and back to the birds...

The cliffs are swamped with gannets, plus guillemots, fulmars, shags and skuas, which patrolled the area, chasing anything with a catch. Getting shots of the birds as they flew between us on the bobbing boat and the cliffs was tricky, but the trusty old 100-400mm did the business, and reminded me how light it is, compared to the prime lens.

Apparently the great skuas are responsible for keeping the place tidy, and we saw a pair pecking at a dead gannet in the water, though even they didn't seem particularly impressed with their dinner.

While I don't generally get sea sick, being sat still, bobbing around like a cork, started to affect my stomach, and I was glad we started to move again, heading back to Lerwick. Once more the pursuit by Bonxies commenced, and they came closer than any of us had imagined, when one of the boat's crew offered some biscuits to them.

I had to lean right back to even get a focus lock on it! You'd not want one of these chasing you, believe me.

Still buzzing from the boat trip, and looking forward to the next one, Neil and I opted to head out to try our luck for otters. After a good hour, he raised the alarm - one was on the move, and within moments, we were all heading towards it, moving as it dived, freezing when it surfaced. That was after I'd bagged some shots of it scampering across the beach area, to the sea, keeping low as it did.

In the water it caught and ate a couple of crabs. Was great to watch, especially at such close quarters. Then, with us all stood on the headland above, it caught a flat fish, too big to manage at sea, so swam right into the shore, below us. We couldn't believe our luck - a young male wild otter, clambering around on the rocks and seaweed, only a few yards away.

He soon polished off the fish, twisting his head this way and that, as he crunched through it.

After, he nosed about in the seaweed, in search of crabs perhaps, and rubbed his thick fur against the rocks.

I'm sure he could hear the shutters firing, as he looked right down my lens a couple of times, but the wind was in our favour, and he wasn't put off by us being there.

A quick groom and he was off, out into the loch, leaving us all ecstatic from the experience, with grins from ear to ear. Wonderful. Truly wonderful.

Shetland: Just A Tuesday...

2011-08-05T22:13:00.010+01:00

Tuesday morning started rather grey, but only in the weather sense, as by breakfast I'd already seen an otter fishing in a nearby bay, albeit at distance. With nothing planned for the day, I strolled down to the quayside, to see what I could photograph. Before I'd even reached the water, I could hear a wren belting out a song, and soon spotted the tuneful character, perched on the railings. He flew off when I approached, but after a short while, returned, to carry on where he'd left off.

Also sat on the railings, unimpressed with the weather were the resident common terns, who weren't bothered in the slightest about me, and granted some exceptionally close views.

When we'd first met Paula, she'd told us that we'd definitely see golden plovers on the moors behind their cottage, but the first trip up there, admittedly lacking in Timmy's presence (he puts them all up!), we'd failed to see any. So, with a few hours to kill, Ian and I headed up there. Paula was right, they were definitely there, but could I get close?

Out the car and on to the moors, keeping low and moving slowly, I tried to approach one stood watching me from the top of a mound. It moved, I stopped... then it moved towards me, so I stayed still. Calling out constantly to another nearby, the golden plover cautiously trotted across the gorse to me!

Not quite in full summer colours, but still with beautiful marked feathers, it was real treat, and returning back the cottage, the pics made a certain Kate rather envious. With them literally on our doorstep, meant we'd have another chance later...

Back down to the quay again, and the wren was still there amazingly. This time though, perching on more interesting objects, so making much better photographs. And the light had improved too.

Not wanting to rest on our laurels, Paula encouraged us out and about, and we soon found ourselves spread along a loch, looking for otters once more. As usual, Hawk-Eye himself (Ian) spotted one, and moments later, Kate and I were scuttling towards it, for a better view. I think she chose the more comfortable spot, nestled in the long grass above the lochside, whereas I found myself straddled a rusty old drainage pipe, beside the water!

The otter kept to the other side of the loch, but was in and out of the water, sliding under the seaweed, climbing over rocks and of course, crunching away on its catch. They're ace creatures to watch - amusing. They're also ones for blending into the surroundings, and keeping a track of it was tricky. After a good 15 mins of viewing, it headed down the loch, up on to the shore and behind some large boulders, presumably into its holt. Yet another magical Shetland experience.

By evening, the sun started to threaten to come out, and keen to quell her thirst for golden plover shots, Kate headed up to the moors again, with Ian and I in tow. Finding the plovers was easy - they'd not moved from where I'd seen them earlier, but getting decent light proved trickier. For a moment or two when we first found them, it was bright, and we got some great shots.

But we had to wait a good hour before the sunlight really broke through, to get some vibrance in the images.

The evening light was golden, appropriate really, for the birds being photographed, and the moors and lochs behind really added to the shots.

What could have been a "quiet" day on Shetland, ended as usual, anything but, with yet another otter sighting at dusk. I got some shots, but they're a bit dark for processing, especially given results later in the week...

Shetland: Part One.

2011-07-28T22:30:00.007+01:00

Shetland. Where do I begin? Probably with a huge thank you to Paula and Magnus, with whom we were lucky enough to stay, and their dog Timmy of course. Their organisation of trips, where to go and when, their hospitality and generosity was truly humbling.

I say "we" as I was joined by 3 others, Ian, Neil and Kate, and it was called the PINK Tour. Ian and I travelled up on Friday, calling in to Kate's place to take up some of her gear, then taking a leisurely drive for about 8 hours to Aberdeen, where we caught a ferry for an overnight crossing to Lerwick.

Waking early the next morning, we peered through the window at the gloom outside, to just about catch a sight of the islands, and it didn't get much clearer as the boat drifted towards the harbour. In the water below were black guillemots and circling the ship were great skuas and gannets. There was some brightness in the gloom though - the flashing headlights of Magnus and Paula's car, as they watched us arrive. A short while later, we had met and were following them back to their lochside cottage. This would be our base for the week, and what a location it was. Overlooking a sea loch, with gannets, fulmars, terns, mergansers and divers flying over, plus curlew and golden plover calling from the moors nearby.

Kate and Neil were far more sensible, and chose to fly up! We met them later on the first day at Sumburgh Airport. Neil's flight was delayed, so we popped up Sumburgh Head, to view the seabird colony. Here we caught sight of more skuas, including Arctic ones, plus kittiwakes, more fulmars and gannets and a fond favourite, puffins.

After collecting Neil, we headed out to Loch Spiggie for a look around, and called into a sandy cove, with turquoise waters. Here I got my first decent views of a red-throated diver as it fished near the shore, and briefly, the sun came out. Back at the cottage, I spent some time down by the water, watching the common and Arctic terns flying, calling and hovering, plus attempted to photo a distant red-throated diver with little success. Nearby were juvenile wheatears and I could hear a local wren calling out. The day ended in fine spirits, with a tasty BBQ at the cottage. Most welcome after a long day.

The second day was spent driving around the mainland, visiting historic sites, peering into the gloom, sheltering from the wind and rain, and scoffing chocolate cake in a cafe (Breiwick) with arguably one of the best views in the UK. Kate and Neil battled the elements atop of some cliffs near a lighthouse to get some shots of fulmars riding the gales. And a brief stop beside a loch yielded good views of some Arctic terns, ringed plovers and a fishing puffin.

Monday brought a break in the weather, and we opted to head over to Fetlar. This meant catching a couple of car ferries between islands, which allowed us to stand up on deck and view some blue-coloured sea at long last. Fetlar, it struck me, belonged to Bonxies (great skuas) as they seemed to be everywhere. Sat near the road, soaring overhead, chasing other birds over the lochs and sea. Great to see, unless you're a gannet with a catch!

Down by a beach I spotted a few twite, but they vanished before I could grab the camera, and as was becoming the norm, there were divers on the sea. On to Loch Funzie, for one of my target birds, a red necked phalarope. Also on the loch was a pair of nesting red throated divers, and we were able to get fantastic views of the nesting bird. No photos, as I've not got a licence... but I didn't need to, as the partner was gliding around the loch anyway. Not close enough though. In fact the only time it did stray close was when the heavens had opened, and I crouched beside the road, getting soaked. Shots came out ok though, for colourless, rain-affected ones!

Also around, and posing for photos, both perched and in flight were Arctic terns. Angelic birds - delicate looking. You would never believe they could fly so far each year.

As for the phalaropes? No sign. We hunted high and low, but no joy. There's always another day.

Owlets and owlets

2011-07-04T14:33:00.004+01:00

I assume that people who follow this blog like owls, as I do. For any that don't you'd best skip this post!

A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate enough to be made aware of a pair of tawny owlets (chicks) on a local reserve, so weather permitting, I headed over for a look. The birds were apparently quite mobile already, and could be anywhere along a line of trees. I had my work cut out, but after about 30 mins of searching, I spotted a shape that didn't quite look like part of a tree.

I'd found one. Sat out on a branch, quite high up but already watching me. I expect it had been doing so since I got there, but then I'm a bit easier to see when pottering around carrying my gear! Was a fluffy little character. Not sure whether I'd call it cute?

As the breeze moved the branch it was perched upon, the owlet kept its head dead still, to keep a watchful eye on me. Amusing to watch, though being backlit, it didn't make it easy to get a sharp shot. Thank goodness for large memory cards, that's what I say, and after reeling off a few shots at different settings, I managed to get some keepers.

I have to say, after looking at the bird's face close up (cropping) it sort of resembles Max!! Sorry mate!

With a bit of decent weather this week, Dad has been popping out locally to see what he can photograph, and I was rather envious when he dropped some photos into my lap, of a little owlet he'd seen at Little Grump's residence. I think it was later in July last year when I saw the chicks, but this was great to see, and meant I had my weekend sorted for more owlet action!

But before I could do anything, in the shower on Saturday morning, simply raising my arms to wash my hair, put my back into spasm. I must be getting old! It was (and still is) very painful, so I've been really careful not to exert myself at all since. Hence being sat in a car, having to be motionless, proved to be quite handy!

There are two owlets at the site, and both are already mobile. They are so much fun to observe, when they move that is... which isn't that often. They can both fly, and seem to enjoy scampering around the tree, leaping between branches. They also practise bobbing their heads up and down, or around in circles, like they're listening to some disco tunes.

The parent birds are around, but they seem to tire of the screeches for food, and fly off to neighbouring trees! I went both days of the weekend, though total viewing time of the owls must have been about 20 mins. And even then, most of my shots were partially obcsured by leaves or branches, though on a couple of instances the owlets, when possibly too excited from being mobile, forgot to keep hidden, and landed out in the open at the ends of the branches.

They soon realised how exposed they were, and dived back into the foliage once more. Great to see that Little Grump is keeping the population of little owls going in the area. Just need to get up early enough to work out where some of his offspring have gone to.

One Good Turn Deserves A Tawny...

2011-06-22T22:29:00.004+01:00

A couple of weeks back, I had chosen to take Dad to Brandon Marsh, with the hope of seeing kingfishers and maybe a cuckoo. It's a new location for him, and one I hope he'll go back to, especially after he encountered some of the local erm, wildlife, in the form of Andy and Max! Both of whom were entertaining as we camped in the Carlton Hide, hoping for pics. Apparently, just before we'd got there, a pair of juvenile kingfishers had been posing all over the place. Typical!

During the time sat there, one did appear, but too far for decent shots, especially after last year's feast of chances from Feckenham, at such close range. That said, Dad broke his duck on getting shots of one, albeit rather distant.

We heard a cuckoo, but that was about it, and aside from Dad getting more heron shots, we didn't fare too well, made worse by texts from friends out in Staffordshire, of a tawny owl they'd encountered. With Dad in tow, I couldn't drag him all the way up there, so sat there feeling very envious indeed.

A week is a long time to wait, but early on Saturday morning, I was off out to the spot where they'd seen it, in the hope it'd still be around. Stuart was there too to help, but it took a good 90 mins of wandering the area before the bird gave itself away, by calling out. We were on to it in a flash, but annoyingly, the views of it were obscured by branches.

It was awake though, not surprisingly, given the breezy conditions, and after much mooching, we managed some angles where we could get a shot of it, the best being when the owl itself peered around a branch, to look down at me!
As owls do, it dozed off eventually, though the wind picked up, bringing a real downpour, and the owl flew to a different tree - great to see it fly, but it managed to find an even more hidden perch, and despite more creeping around, getting neck-ache from looking upwards, we couldn't manage to get a better view point.
The rain showers seemed to get more frequent, and the light was terrible. So much for the middle of June! We all looked pretty fed up with the conditions, including the owl. And, as soon as the weather cleared up, the owl cleared off, to high in the canopy, presumably to dry off.

It was our cue to leave, but despite the mild irritation of twigs and branches being in the way, I'd bagged easily my best shots to date of a tawny.

Somerset Levels

2011-06-07T21:41:00.005+01:00

For the last few years, at about this time of year I have been fortunate enough to be able to get down to Devon and Somerset, for photographing birds around the reserves I love down that way. But this year other holidays (such as Lindos) have meant no south-west trip. Having seen pied flycatchers at Gilfach Farm, not seeing them at Yarner Wood (Dartmoor, Devon) wasn't so bad, but I still yearned to revisit the Somerset Levels for the hobbies and bitterns.

Hence, the alarm went off at 5am on Saturday morning, and about 8:30am, I was parking up at Ashcott Corner, ready to stroll around RSPB Ham Wall, and if time allowed later, Shapwick Heath. It was breezy but the sun was shining on arrival, and the walk along the path to Ham Wall was lovely - the air filled with the songs of warblers, and within minutes of reaching the reserve, the unmistakeable sound of booming bitterns.

Apparently there was a ring-necked duck on site, but I failed to see it, and I was more interested in scurrying off around the lakes in search of bitterns and hobbies. The reserve was almost infested with dragonflies - I've never seen so many, though a more knowledgeable observer pointed out that the larger dragonflies were almost all four-spotted chasers, as can be seen in the shot below.

The bitterns were booming away frequently, but my attention had diverted to cuckoos calling. Twice, one skimmed the tops of the reeds and landed in a tree, just that bit too far off for a shot, and typically against the sun. Moving to a location where the perching point was lit better, I waited and hoped. No good - waited for a good hour and the bird failed to return, and I was about to move off when a pair of bitterns rose up above the reeds, with one chasing the other.

I had seen this sort of behaviour before, but this lasted longer and was much closer to me. They circled over-head, crying out at each other as they soared around the sky. Like last time, I had the big lens rigged up on a tripod, and took most shots with that, but when the birds went right over-head, I swapped to my hand-held 100-400mm lens, to avoid doing myself an injury.

It was rather tricky though, to retain both birds in the shot, and also to get a focus lock that would keep at least one of them sharp.

Eventually, they dropped down and vanished again into the vast reedbeds, not to be seen (by me) again that day. So I turned my focus back to the cuckoos, which numbered three. Along the path from where I had been stood was a dead tree, and was again favoured by one of the male birds. I relocated there and hoped for better fortune.

I was in luck, as one landed in the tree, but agonisingly, the wrong side of a group of branches, so it wasn't a clean shot. Moving to attempt for a clearer line, spooked the bird and it flew off. And so began several failed attempts to get an unobstructed view of the bird, over the course of about an hour.

I was about to abandon the plan when one landed in another tree behind me, and as before, when I moved, it flew. But this time not far, and to a perch that was obscured by a tree. Hence I was able to approach, drop the tripod to a level giving me a clear view, and take a few shots.

I don't think the bird could see me, but the sound of the shutter meant it looked over towards me, after each burst of its call.

Eventually, it thought better of the noise, or perhaps it spotted me, and flew off, but I'd achieved some shots at last.

I'd also achieved something else, less pleasant. The reserve is quite overgrown in places, with stinging nettles and thistles, which is great for caterpillars etc, I guess. But not great for standing by, and I'd almost got used to being stung or spiked by them, when I was taking pics. Hence, when my legs felt irritated when photographing the cuckoo, I wasn't overly bothered.

Until I looked down that is. And saw a sea of red ants, up both legs to about knee-height! I wasn't being stung or spiked, but being bitten!

I had to perform a sort of Red Indian war dance, or perhaps a Morris Dance, which involved lots of leg-slapping and shaking, to get rid of them from my trousers, socks and within my boots. Must have been very amusing to watch, though not for me, and my legs itched for hours after.

A surprising aspect of the trip, compared to the last time I was there, was the lack of hobbies. I saw just one, throughout the whole day. I'm sure there were more around, but not close enough to interest me for a photo. I had hoped that Shapwick Heath would be better, but it wasn't. In fact, the reserves were really rather quiet in that respect.

At Shapwick Heath, I spent some time in the hide overlooking the main lake, listening to the constant cries of young cormorants, watching occasional flights from warblers, and even more rare, were the bitterns, out looking for food. One even strolled across a gap in the reeds in front of us, but was too quick and well hidden to allow us any chance of a photo.

A final visit to the hide on the other side of the canal yielded a good view of a male marsh harrier, quartering the reedbeds, but by now the cloud had covered the skies and the wind had got a lot stronger.

With tired red eyes, I thought it was probably best to head back home, wishing I was heading the other direction on the M5, as is usually the case. Ah well, maybe next year.

Lindos, a non-birding break...

2011-06-02T22:21:00.008+01:00

It was never meant to be a birding holiday; more of a break to get away and relax, get some sunshine and warmth, spend some time with my family and try to forget about all the stress of recent months both at home and at work.

Curiosity though, got the better of me, and before flying out I googled what might be around on the island of Rhodes, birdwise. Unsure of the size of the safe in the room, I opted to just take my old Sigma 70-300mm and my 40D camera. And last minute I packed my bins too.

Arriving at the apartment complex at night, the night was filled with the sound of insects... and also of possibly owls. Sounded familiar, but I couldn't be sure. Next morning, after reeling from the heat of the sun on the patio of the apartment, I ventured out to scan the cliffs behind, to see if I could see what was making the calls.

A flash of white and black, a flicking tail, and I thought I'd spotted a pied wagtail. I hadn't. It was far better. Flitting about from the fencing of the complex (to keep out goats!), and the pathways around the buildings, was a fantastic-looking black and white wheatear, which turned out to be a black-eared wheatear. And he wasn't alone.

Nearby, whistling and chatting was his partner, a brownish bird, but lovely in her own right. Both were superb at grabbing the insects around, especially the huge crickets and grasshoppers, which tried to bask in the sunshine on rocks and posts.

Considering how shy wheatears in the UK can be, I was amazed at how much these two liked to perch right in front of me, and even Dad with just a point-n-shoot camera, managed some fab shots of them. We spent most afternoons, after the heat of the sun had got too much, watching and trying to photo this pair, eventually discovering they had 3 or 4 juveniles around the area, being fed.

Looking skywards, I was equally amazed at the number of birds of prey around. A pair of peregrines often circled, hurtling off over the hills in search of prey, as did masses of kestrels, some of them lesser kestrels, I believe. Falcons, such as red-footed falcon were around too, and all of these birds seemed to be able to catch insects on the wing, much like hobbies do in the UK.

In fact, you could look at the sky for no more than 30 seconds most of the time and see at least one. Kestrels were most common, flying from the Acropolis up to the hills behind our complex, and then zipping back. Oh how I wished I'd got a bigger and faster lens!

More so, when one morning I spotted something larger, with very long wings and was almost eagle-like. Grabbing the cameras, we both waited to see if it would fly into view again. It did, eventually, and lower down. Comparing our shots to images on the internet, we initially thought we'd seen a Bonelli's eagle! Sadly, it turned out to have been (only!) a long-legged buzzard, but great to see nonetheless.

As well as birds and rather large insects all over the place, there were agama lizards, which amused us daily, with their scuttling running, head-banging and crazy leaps from rocks when chasing prey.

They look just like dinosaurs, and loved to bask in the sunshine. They were also all over the hills and cliffs at the back, and whilst watching these, I spotted something fluffy and brown.

Perched atop a rock, was a little owl, looking grumpy as usual, though with a sea-view and masses to eat all around, I suspect it was a bit happier than the one I see down the road. As I watched, I saw it fly off and disappear into a crack in the cliff-face. Listening more carefully, I could hear a screech. It was nesting there, and hidden from view must have been at least one chick. After about an hour, I'd realised that there was a pair of little owls up there, and they were constantly having to catch food for the hungry chicks. No wonder they looked grumpy!

On a couple of the days I opted to go for a walk instead of being a fat slug-in-the-sun by the pool, mainly because I'm fair-skinned and burn easily. The first trip took in fine views along the headland behind the beach, and apart from a distant blue rock thrush, the only birds I saw were a pair of juvenile peregrines, practising food passes, albeit miles off.

The second trip, which took in St Pauls Bay was far better. Behind the outcrop of rock which holds up the Acropolis, were nesting kestrels, various gulls, masses of swallows and what turned out to be crag martins, which were flying so close to me at times, I had to move out of their way!

Above the cries of kestrels whenever hooded crows or gulls flew too close to the nests, was a beautiful song being called out. Peering over the cliff edge I spotted a blue rock thrush, sat on some rocks by the water's edge, singing its heart out. Patience yielded results, when it flew close enough for a few record shots.

Also around the apartments was a jay, with a black cap on its head, loads of sparrows of course, a couple of greenfinches (I think) and enough large and unusual insects to get me to switch to macro on the lens, for some close up shots. Not too close though - some of the spiders were very large! As were the beetles, which were hopeless at flying, and comically bounced off walls instead of flying over.

All in all a fab trip, though next time I think I'll take a better lens with me!

Black-Necked Grebe

2011-05-15T15:37:00.003+01:00

Just a quick note to report back on several more trips to Lower Bittell, in the hope of seeing the black-necked grebe closer up. Hurrah! Success at last, as it came right over to the road-side of the lake, and fished for several minutes below where I was standing.

The sun was out too, even if it was raining a little.

Caught the colours of the bird very well. No osprey today, though it had been seen earlier in the day on the Upper lake. Caught a fish too. Hope that stays around.

But today has been about the grebe, and it performed brilliantly.

Bittell Does It Again

2011-05-15T09:27:00.005+01:00

A quick scan of the various bird reports yesterday morning revealed a black necked grebe locally, at Lower Bittell. Being only a 5 min drive away, I thought why not. Got there, parked up and strolled up to the lone birder stood there scoping the bird, which probably meant it was miles off. It was. Worse still, another person later told me that it had been right next to the road first thing. Damn, and such striking looking birds too.

Golf was planned for 1pm, so I decided to hang around and hope it'd venture closer to me. Various birders came and went, until I spotted Dave Jackson arriving. He'd been at Upton Warren most of the morning and seen very little.

As I put him on to the grebe, I spotted what I initially thought was one of the many local grey herons, flying across the back of the lake. But something about it looked wrong. Was it really what I thought it could be? "Is that an osprey over there?" I asked as I brought my bins to my eyes. At that moment, Dave confirmed it, and suddenly the grebe was old news, as we both locked on to this new visitor.

The osprey flew slowly across from the Barnt Green end of the lake, towards the road, over it and across the other smaller pool, looking all around for fish to eat (must have been short-sighted as there are loads!!), before finally heading off towards Upper Bittell. Fortunately, the lads who'd been stood near us moments before, managed to spot it also, and they were soon back next to us, grinning as madly as me.

What a find! It's great to see an osprey in Scotland or even at places like Rutland, but to see one locally was very special.

Golf came and went, with a massive hail storm in the middle of the road, turning the greens white. My game was awful and best forgotten. Afterwards, I thought I'd try again for the grebe, and was greeted by hundreds of swifts whizzing over the water, chasing flies, each other and screaming by. Was amazing to watch.

As the grebe was still distant, I tried my hand with some shots of the swifts, but the light wasn't great (started to rain!) and mad for getting any detail out of them tricky (not to mention getting a lock on with the 50D and 100-400mm).

Eventually, the grebe came a little closer, though nothing like those at Warrington recently, and I grabbed a few record shots. A smashing little bird to see locally, even if it had been outdone by the osprey!

Rutland Water

2011-05-09T23:13:00.003+01:00

After booking some time off work at long last, I had promised to take Dad to see the ospreys at Rutland Water. He'd never seen one before, though he has wondered about a large bird that flew over his garden last year, which was at the right time of year to see one migrating.

The walk to the Shallow Water hide was long and rather warm, and also plagued with midges and flies. I've never seen a place with so many swarms as Rutland, in some cases the insects formed cloud-like mists, which we fought through. On the way, whitethroats teased us, never coming out of the bushes, and willow warblers sang from overhead wires, before flying away before we could get a shot.

The hide itself was empty - rather surprising given the weather, although it was pretty windy. Outside the window, gadwalls and mallards pottered about in the water, with the first terns of the season, fluttering by, dropping like darts into the water. The now-common Egyptian geese also fed nearby, unlike the ospreys who were sat on the other side, on their eggs.

Not quite the view I'd hoped for, though perhaps I'm spoiled after visiting Scotland last year. Eventually though, the male took over egg duties, and the female took off for a fly around. Given the distance she was from us, the pics came out quite well. I had worried about heat-haze, but in general that didn't seem to affect things.

She didn't fish, but she simulated it, when going for a few dips to wash. After circling round some more, she returned and swapped back over with the male. And that was that.

We wandered back along the lakeside, calling in at all the hides to see what was on offer, though surprisingly little. But with time on our side, I suggested we try the other side (Egleton) for a look.

The feeding station was amusing, as a family of brown rats have moved in, and are taking advantage of spilled seed. Some people detest these rodents, but they amuse me. So long as they stay outside, of course!

The hides on this side were more sheltered, so we sat for longer in one, watching the terns, and masses of martins. I spotted one of the ospreys from this side, and also a hobby, but that blasted overhead too quickly for Dad to lock on to, alas. With one eye on the time (it was a day before a Bank Holiday), I eventually dragged myself away, to get Dad back home and not be sat in a traffic jam.

Getting home, I'd suggested we go to the pub, when opening the boot of the car I realised something, that made me feel sick inside. Whilst being concerned about not having Dad sat in traffic jams, I'd left the hide and forgot to pick up my camera bag. Normally, with the gear sat next to me on my seat, I'd have spotted the mistake instantly, but with Dad sat there instead, I just didn't think. I couldn't believe my stupidity and absent-mindedness, and promptly cancelled the pub trip, trying desperately to work out what to do.

I was enroute back to Rutland, though knowing in my heart they'd be closed by the time I got there, when I remembered that a friend had volunteered for Rutland's Osprey Watch in 2010. I asked him for their number, and thankfully he sent it quickly. After the week I'd had (car broken into, and stuff stolen from it), this was the end as far as I was concerned.

Or was it? Calling the number, a lady answered. They were still open, thank goodness. I then asked. Had anyone handed in a camera bag?

They had. She had it on her lap, and was amazed anyone could have left behind something so heavy. Quickly checking it was mine, I asked a few questions about content, and she gave all the right answers. Some very kind gentleman had found it, and handed it in.

To say I was relieved was an understatement. I could have cried with joy. She then allowed me to make arrangements to collect it early the next day, and the trip to the pub was back on once more. My word, I needed a pint after that scare.

There seemed little point driving all the way to Rutland to just collect the bag, so I decided to take a longer look around the Egleton side of the reserve. I thanked the lady in the office for keeping hold of the bag overnight and allowing me to collect it early, and made a donation to the Trust too. I also got the name and number of the man who'd found and handed in my bag - Martin, I owe you more than a pint! You also restored my faith in humanity.

Then it was off around the reserve. Eventually the sun made an appearance, and I got some decent views of greenshank, a grey plover, bar-tailed godwits, various warblers, including a garden warbler, and for the second day that week, the highlight was a pair of great crested grebes.

Unlike the local ones, who'd already hatched their chicks, this pair were still courting. Presenting gifts to one another, performing the dance, and flaring their crests. All wonderful to observe.

Less serene was the battle that occurred when another rival male ventured too close, and was attacked and seen off by the resident male bird. Dramatic and violent, for what is normally seen as a calm bird.

More dancing followed, before they both disappeared from view into the reedbed nearby.

Having missed the Royal Wedding (such a shame - yes, I am being sarcastic), I headed back to go to watch Brit Floyd perform at the NIA. A great gig, and a good end to what could have been such a very different week.

Gilfach Farm

2011-05-09T22:26:00.004+01:00

About this time of the year, I try to locate some pied flycatchers, usually in the middle of Wales. I have some favoured locations, though this time I thought I'd try somewhere new. Gilfach Farm is a Wildlife Trust reserve, a short distance from Rhayader, nestled in steep-sided valleys, with a stream running through it, and woodland, farmland and heathland around.

Finding it was easy enough, and after speaking to previous visitors, I knew roughly what to do when arriving. The first surprise of the day though, was seeing Bob in the car park - he'd already been there for several hours, and happily showed me some fantastic shots of redstarts and pied flycatchers. As he did, I could hear several redstarts calling nearby, so things looked very promising.

I have to say at this point, that this reserve is one where photographers are very much looked after. So many reserves are solely aimed at birders, with hides miles from the action, making getting good shots a case of good fortune. Having heard tales of actions of some stupid togs, I can see why, but Gilfach Farm very much favoured us lot, and the wardens actually apologised when their duties took them close to the birds!
And what birds! There were about 3 common redstarts, flitting around the courtyard, dropping down from the trees for the mealworms laid out, plus a rather brown-looking male pied flycatcher, also after the food.

With the birds landing in shaded, then bright sunlit areas, and never staying still for long, the auto-ISO feature on the camera came into its own, and even shots at 1600 ISO came out well.

After filling my boots with shots of the redstarts, I had to stroll down the lane to the Otter Hide, which overlooks a stream, cascading over rocks, and between several gnarled old trees, to which several nestboxes had been nailed. Guarding these were a pair of male pied flycatchers, who seemed very tolerant of one another.

With lichen-covered branches, old wood and moss galore, I was able to get some gorgeous shots of the birds, as they seemed to enjoy posing on different perches for shots. They were too close at times, and I had to drop back to the straight 500mm lens, and even stand back in the hide to get the bird in focus too!

Wonderful, and I stayed there for hours, I have to admit! There was supposed to be dippers around too, but I never saw them, though a pair of grey wagtails skipped and hopped, and wagged of course, their way up stream.

Eventually I dragged myself away from the hide, and back to the car, for a quick drive into the Elan Valley for a look around. Not much about, apart from martins, the odd buzzard and red kite, plus a wheatear that posed on the dam wall. But stood at the top of a dam, with breath-taking scenery, hardly a breath of wind, sunshine and the smell of Spring blossom, it was very, very hard to get back into the car for the drive back to Birmingham!

Local Delights

2011-05-09T21:53:00.004+01:00

After taking Dad to see the seasonal stars at the Flashes, such as the avocets, common and green sandpipers, I was chuffed that he'd got to see some new birds - I'll get him to start making a list one day! Being such a calm day, the avocets gave great reflections on the mirror-like water, and better still, came pretty close to the hide.

They look so elegant, until they start protecting their young later in the year. So I was expecting to see some lovely shots from Dad, but was surprised further when he presented some wonderful shots of great crested grebes he'd been fortunate enough to see locally (Bittell), where the parent birds were feeding their young, nestled snuggly on the back of one of the adults.

Needless to say, I shot off down there as soon as possible, though initially the birds (2 adults and 4 chicks) kept their distance. You don't get anything in this game by giving up, so I tried again, and then again on another day. At the 4th attempt, when driving past on a whim, I spotted that the birds were close to the road, so parked up, and scuttled back to the lakeside for some shots.

What a fabulous sight, watching the chicks riding around on the back of a parent, their humbug-like heads peeking out from the feathers, occasionally disappearing completely from view. And the other parent, out fishing, bringing back tiddlers for the chicks to scoff.

At one point, the fishing grebe brought back a fish that seemed a tad too large for the chicks, but systematically tried to feed it to each chick, moving on to the next when it failed to consume it. Probably annoying for the birds, but provided fantastic photo opportunities for me, stood nearby.

Eventually the fish was eaten by the fisher, who promptly returned with a smaller one, for a lucky chick to scoff down.

The calm water also allowed me to get some reflection shots of the grebe carrying the chicks, and reminded me that I don't always need to drive miles to get good photos.

Gauntlet BOP Centre

2011-04-26T09:24:00.003+01:00

Bit of an abstract entry here, from some weeks back in March, when I was sent to Manchester for work, to help with a system installation. After a very early start, I was allowed some hours off between the early and very late shift, so decided to take a look around the area.

Without details, I failed to locate one of the Cheshire Wildlife reserves (please, if anyone from the Trust reads this, include a postcode of the site - makes it so much easier), but in driving around spotted a falconry centre, by the name of Gauntlet (http://www.gauntlet.info/).

What a great place - perfect for spending a couple of hours mooching around, and better still - timed by me for one of the flying displays.

I've been to some before, and you see the usual of vultures and eagles, perhaps a falcon or owl, and this place did the same.

However, they also had a pair of stork-like birds (can't find them on their site at the mo), a raven and best of all, a flying display by red and black kites.

That was superb, and the birds skimmed your head as you sat there.

If you're in the Knutsford area, Gauntlet is definitely worth a visit.

Back To Bempton

2011-04-19T10:02:00.004+01:00

After last year's wonderful trip to Skomer, I was missing seeing sea birds, such as puffins, and with this year's trip not happening, I decided to head up to Bempton Cliffs instead. A long drive, but worth it, even if it was the only part of the UK under cloud when I arrived.

Having been before, I opted to head to the right-hand end of the cliffs for the main gannet colony, and as the sun was in, the whites on the birds would be easier to manage (sun and white-coloured birds can mean "blown" highlights). As usual, the birds were circling around, but at this time of year, they were returning to the nest sites with bits of grass, seaweed and anything else that suits their rocky nests.

Also, and lovely to observe was the way the pairs greet one another, rubbing beaks together. I'll have to get up to the Farnes one year to get some closer shots of this, but the views from the cliffs were good enough for a start.

The cliffs were also occupied in great numbers by kittiwakes, which seem to be able to sit looking comfortable on what can only be the narrowest of ledges. I tried to get some shots of them in flight, which wasn't easy, as they tend to stay below the tops of the cliffs, and change direction frequently. They often fly with their legs dangling too, like they're about to land but perhaps are enjoying flying too much to stop just yet!

Fulmars also shared some of the cliff real estate, and bickered between nest sites. They are quite approachable though, so getting images of them on the nest wasn't too much of a problem.

Finally, although not in great numbers yet, there were a few puffins around. They were checking out burrows, flying up and down from the cliffs to the sea, or simply perched on the cliff-face, watching the world go by.

By the afternoon, the sun had returned, and so had the crowds. The problem with Bempton is that the sun moves around behind the cliffs later in the day, so you have to look for sunny parts or accept shaded images. Thing is, with the drive back looming, I opted to head back instead.

North West to World's End?

2011-04-03T19:02:00.003+01:00

Friday night. That's usually the time of the week when I finally make up my mind about where to head on the weekend. And so it was this weekend, when the shots seen during the week of a lone Dartford Warbler in Wales, persuaded me to plan a trip that way.

Had it been the only bird that way , I might not have bothered, but pics from a friend (Carl) of black necked grebes not million miles away, tempted me to get up very early (for a Saturday) and blast up the M6. I hate the motorway with a passion, but at weekends, when I'm not going for a company meeting, it seems almost pleasant. Using Google's Street View, I'd worked out where to go, and before 9am I was stood, lake-side, scanning the water for the grebes.

Didn't look promising at first, but once my sleepy brain had remembered that the grebes were smaller than coots, I managed to spot a couple... and then 3 more.

Ideal conditions for pics, no. Not for the first 2 hours or so, and stood being piddled on, beside a breezy lake when I could have been at home having a lie in, did make me question my sanity.

Once the sun appear, my decision was justified, though the light was still harsh. Almost satanic-looking birds, with the ruby-red eyes and flame-like facial feathers. They did look fabulous against the green reflections on the water. Aside from diving for tiddlers, they seemed pretty content with picking off flies from the surface. All in all, there were 2 pairs, plus a loner, which was still not quite in summer colours. Clouds rolling in once more, I decided to head over to World's End, in a remote spot not far from Wrexham, though the road getting there reminded me of those from the moors near Aviemore. Could be a spot worth exploring more, on a full day.

Using instructions from Carl and Dave (cheers!), I eventually found the right area, and clocked the Dartford warbler, posing right in front of Carl! Deserved, as he'd been waiting for a couple of hours for it, and I had to advise him to delete his pics, when he showed them to me shortly afterwards. What are friends for?

Didn't have to wait long for seeing the bird close up, and what followed was a couple of hours of watching and waiting, and then snapping furiously, as the proud warbler zipped around his territory, singing away from whatever lofty perch he could find. Back in 2009, I must have spent about 20 hours walking around the moors near Minehead, tracking down the Dartfords, hoping for a shot, and managed a few in the end. This seemed too easy, but hell, I wasn't complaining. In full breeding plumage too.

Eventually though, time was ticking on, and I knew I'd got the shots I was after. Would have been nice to spend a day there, but the breeze was drying my eyes out, and yet again I looked vampiric, so home seemed the sensible option.

That just posed the problem of condensing 900+ photos down to a handful for airing online...

Lesser Spotted Woodpecker

2011-03-27T10:45:00.005+01:00

Stuck in Manchester most of the week on business, I was monitoring friends' movements from their blogs with envy, with Max's shots of the lesser spotted woodpecker really rubbing my nose in it.

Hence, as soon as I was back and able to, I shot over to the same spot and sat in wait of it... Would it come out as it had been doing? It seemed rather strange, as commented by another hopeful tog in the hide, that waiting for a woodpecker to appear in a reedbed was very unusual!

After a couple of hours, of watching a pair of wrens potter around, and three gadwells chasing each other on the pool, I was left alone to continue my vigil. It took another 90 minutes before I heard a strange sound from the edge of the reeds and there it was, pecking furiously at the stem of a bullrush.

Tiny! What a tiny little woodpecker. Ok, I've seen them before, but against a tree it's difficult gauge size, but here on this thin stem, it showed how very small they are. A male, with a vibrant red crown.

Just a shame the light was so poor, but I wasn't complaining after the wait - I was just chuffed to see it.

When a reed bunting landed behind it, you could see the minimal size difference, with the lesser spotted woody being only marginally larger.

I waited for another hour after it had flown away, but the light got worse and despite the recent warm weather, the return to winter-temperatures encouraged me back home again.

Wonderful Woodlands

2011-03-27T10:19:00.007+01:00

Since the demise of my fotopic sites, I've been spending any available time in front of my PC, working on the new website. I've managed to add more galleries into the birds menu, plus additional pages for About, News, Guestbook and Links. Hence I've been seemingly slacking in the Blog upkeep. With work being so manic at the moment, any chance I get to go out and forget about that, I take, and I have headed into the woods lately, to see what I could find! No bears I'm afraid, but I have stumbled on other gems.

Twice now, I have wandered around the Wyre Forest, starting at Dry Mill Lane's car park, and strolling along the path towards Lodge Hill Farm, and beyond. I had hoped to see crossbills, but alas they failed to show for me. Buzzards a plenty though, and once I'd slid my way down to Dowles Brook, I spotted a dipper on some rocks downstream. Approaching quietly is almost impossible when the banks are strewn with dried ferns and you become entangled in brambles, but I seemed to be getting close enough for a shot, when I hear "BLIMEY, IT'S REALLY MUDDY HERE!!!!" shouted from a mountain biker, as though he was trying to communicate with someone half a mile away, instead of his mate, who was about half a yard back.

Needless to say the dipper flew off. Brilliant. After pulling various thorns from my legs, I followed, but it had gone. I had time on my side though, as I had been up very early, so opted to remain in the area, and it paid eventual dividends, when a pair of dippers flew back, and this time, without any foghorn-leghorn cyclists nearby, I managed to get some shots. Ok, so the setting isn't quite the mossy falls of the Dales, but lovely to see, and now I know where I can find them, I ought to be able to get better shots soon. Also around the woods were siskins, redpolls, woodpeckers and very distant, a hawfinch. Another woodland area I love to explore is a Worcestershire Wildlife Trust reserve, called the Knapp and Papermill. If you've never been, you're missing out. The orchard area beside the river is great for woodland birds, such as tits and finches, plus wagtails and apparently kingfishers, though I'm yet to see one there. I did see though, and a close quarters, a treecreeper, scurrying up trunks, and under and along branches, as they normally do.

However this one did something I've never seen before - it flew off the tree, and caught insects mid-flight, over the river. Maybe it's been watching flycatchers? Impossible to photograph, but fascinating to observe.

Last but by no means least, is Whitacre Heath. The feeder hide in the middle of the woods is a fantastic spot for woodland birds, especially in the winter, where the food on offer brings them in by the dozen. Here I managed to bag shots of redpolls, siskins, goldfinches, marsh and willow tits, plus a few shots of more common characters, like blue tits, after I spotted a shortage of decent images on my new website.

Amongst the lesser redpolls were a couple of mealy ones, which despite their size advantage over the lessers, were chased off the feeders by them frequently!

The highlight of the woodland session though, came out of the gloom like a bolt. I'd had to use just the 500mm lens without the TC, as the light was poor, but my goodness was I pleased with that move, when a sparrowhawk attacked, missed and then (at last for me) perched up nearby! Had I been using 700mm, he'd not have fitted in the shot, but at 500mm, it was full frame and glorious. He even stared right down my lens before flying off.

What a fabulous bird!

Website Woes

2011-03-15T20:36:00.003Z

A short post regarding my websites, or lack of them as it would appear. Fotopic seems to have vanished, and I can't see any definitive information about what is going on anywhere online.

As such, my Birds, Wildlife, and 2 other galleries I maintain have gone, hopefully only temporarily. I'm not best pleased, given the number of images involved, not to mention information about where pics were taken etc.

Anyway, I'm not completely at a loss, as recently I set up a Flickr account, and have a lot of images over on there. It will be here that I add most shots of birds and wildlife that I photograph on a regular basis, and it will complement the small selection of shots that feature on here.

And, even more recently, I got my act together and sorted a proper website (www.petewalkden.co.uk), albeit in its infancy at the moment. This website showcases my best work; images I am really pleased with and also ones that folks could purchase, as I know the quality of the images are up to that task.

I'll be adding content to this personal website over time, and including more features and information.

Both these websites can be accessed from the Links Section on this Blog.

Thanks for your ongoing interest!

Cheers,

Pete.

Playing The Game

2011-03-01T10:40:00.003Z

As a rule of thumb, for weather forecasts I tend to check the various websites about 5 days before any time off (weekends and something called a "day off", which is apparently not possible for me at the moment, according to the boss, although he can take time off...), because I find the accuracy to be better than the forecasts made the day before. Based on this method, I'd worked out that the weekend wasn't going to be anything special, so decided to stay local.

This was possibly a bad move, as most people I know in the world of Bird Photography were heading to Lincolnshire for the short-eared owls, and this could have extremely annoying consequences if they all bagged wonderful shots. Still, I had managed a fair few recently, in good light, and wanted something else instead.

Getting Dad out of the house with the poor weather recently has been a challenge, but a couple of weeks back, he got out after I'd convinced him he ought to try somewhere new, and proudly showed me a few shots of treecreepers, goldcrests and best of all, red legged partridges, from a woodland in Warwickshire. Green-eye syndrome flared up, and hence I set off there, in the hope of getting some myself.

It wasn't a promising start, as it was pouring with rain when I left the house, and had barely eased by the time I parked up. By then, I'd experienced the usual with a perched up buzzard. See it whilst driving. Find somewhere to turn around. Park up nearby. Slowly get the camera ready and window open... and off it flies. I could scream at times...

Buzzard frustration aside, the sun did eventually come out, and after a couple of hours, the partridges also pottered out of the woods. Amusing characters, how they scuttle around, and they're fast when they need to be. You almost expect to hear them utter "meep meep" as they hurtle off.

Also around were treecreepers, pheasants, a goldcrest, masses of chaffinches, but no brambling alas, woodpeckers and a couple of siskin, though they never came out of the shadows.

Of course the problem with woodland is the gloom, and birds have a habit of not appearing when the sun does, so I had to drop back to a mere 500mm, to get better speed for the shots. Some birds strayed too close at times, and I realised how much I miss not having a 2nd camera, with the 100-400mm attached. Should be back from repair this week though, the 40D. It got soaked at RAF Cosford last summer, and has gradually been failing since. New circuit board required. Ouch. Add that to the failed shutter mechanism, and the 40D has cost me a small fortune. It's a good camera though, when it works!

The icy wind finally got the better of me, and the heated seat of the car was most welcome on the drive home.

With a gig on Sunday night, I avoided the long trip up north, and as it turned out, it was a wise move. My friends waited all afternoon for the owls to show, but they failed to appear. A timely reminder that nothing in bird photography is guaranteed!

Short-Eared Magic

2011-02-13T16:29:00.002Z

At last, a weekend with a day of good weather forecast, though when I arrived in North Lincolnshire to find it shrouded in mist and drizzle, I have to admit to have uttered a few expletives. A new area for me though, and one that promised good things.

Initially I checked out the marshes where I'd be heading later in the day, and was pleased to spot a pair of short-eared owls performing some aerial acrobatics, albeit somewhat far off. And later, I spotted a marsh harrier heading by.

Nearby was the reserve Far Ings, and this location seems to pay dividends to locals, who bag wonderful shots of bitterns, marsh harriers and bearded tits, plus occasionally the likes of a passing osprey. Sadly the weather dampened down anything that might have shone that morning, and my timing seemed out, as I arrived in the main hide to find I'd just missed a passing bittern (and later discovered after I'd left, I missed a merlin!).

Such is bird photography. The weather seemed to be brightening up a bit, and Stuart had now joined me for the remainder of the day, and hopefully the main event.

Readers of this blog know how much I adore owls, and any chance / excuse I have to photograph them, I try to take. Some of the very best short-eared owl shots I've ever seen had come from this spot, so I hoped my luck would change. The weather had certainly changed, and the sun was now out, with a light but rather chilly breeze.

After seeing the owls performing at the other end of the area from where we'd set up, we opted to wander down the road to both get a bit closer and also try to warm up a bit. Annoyingly, the owls refused to come closer, and the only chance for a decent shot when a lone bird flew over from behind us, left me cursing my camera when it wouldn't lock on. Stuart bagged some lovely shots.

As the light was fading and our cars were at the other end of the road, we wandered back towards the area we'd been originally stood, and it soon dawned on us that the gathered crowd had something rather special nearby. Unbelievably, a short-eared owl was perched only a few yards away from everyone, and didn't seem to be bothered by the excited photographers one little bit.

Needless to say we took advantage and joined in, getting shots from the other side of the road - I had to back off to fit the bird in the frame, and switch to portrait to compose the image.

What a stunning, gorgeous bird. Those eyes...

The slightest movement of the owl brought on a wave of shutter clicks, but it just sat there. Eventually, after a bit of a preen, scratch and ruffle, it moved away and down into the undergrowth, leaving everyone with huge grins and images of an unforgettable day.

Worth the 300 mile round trip? Oh yes!

Bits & Bobs, and a new Diver

2011-02-05T11:25:00.006Z

Last weekend was rather bitty. Saturday I trundled over to see if I could see Little Grump, and did, when a passing car spooked it out of its hiding place and into the open, but the dreadful light meant shots weren't anything to write home about. The same could be said about a male kestrel I spotted nearby, but the image turned out okay in the end.

A brief spell at the Moors Pools later yielded little, aside from the usual, though I was pleased to see a fieldfare guarding the apples on the path again. Perhaps one to try for on a brighter day.

Sunday started with a browse through pics on various websites and resulted in me heading to Clayhanger Marsh, the spot where I saw a hoopoe last year. This time it was for a black-throated diver that had been seen on one of the pools up there.

After getting local info as to how to find the lake (handy!) I wandered down to the bank and set up, setting the camera up using a passing mallard. Good thing I did, as seconds later, the diver surfaced virtually right in front of me! Needless to say I grabbed a few shots - what luck!

The diver then glided behind an island in the lake, and along with some birders who'd joined me by now, we guessed that it would appear around the other side, so moved over to wait for it. Another wise move as it appeared pretty close again.

Disappearing beneath the surface, it reappeared in a small hole in the ice at the edge of the pool. Rather than dive under again, it seemed to panic somewhat, and flap / slide / scuttle across the ice back to the open water again, which was amusing to observe.

After a bit of a preen, it headed out into deeper waters, and I didn't take another shot. By then though, I'd already fired off 230 pics! Enough I thought, and opted to head 10 miles north, to Cannock Chase.

The cloud seemed to follow me, and despite there being sunshine back home, I had to endure gloomy conditions at the feeding site, but still bagged shots of great, willow and coal tits, nuthatches and a female bullfinch.

Not a bad end to the day, and enough images to keep me amused during the dark evenings of the following working week.

Venus Bramblings

2011-01-24T20:33:00.002Z

Last Monday was supposed to be the most depressing day of the year, but I think this weekend beat it, given the 3 days of glorious sunshine leading up to it, only to find Saturday barely got light, with blanket cloud offering no sign of a let up. Had there been any hope of better weather, I might have been tempted to take up a kind offer of a trip to Hereford for some brambling shots, but I ended up sat in a cold hide at Venus Pools instead.

At least the grim weather hadn't put off the birds, who were feeding in their masses. Don't think I've seen as many chaffinches in one spot, and thankfully amongst them, were half a dozen bramblings.

I took a few shots of them initially, as they fed from the ground, but reviewing the shots showed it to be a rather unattractive setting, and so I started watching branches around the feeders in the hope that I'd see some making their approach, stopping enroute. Took a while but they started to favour this route in, and soon I was then shifting my bum around on the bench in the hide, to try to angle the camera to get a clear shot of the birds, as and when they landed.

Bramblings really are vibrant with their orange chest and shoulders, and flecks of yellow and white down the wings. Just a shame the light was doing its best to dull everything down. However, as with a recent trip to see the short-eared owls, I had set the camera up on full manual mode, and while a few shots came out dark, any shots against a brighter backdrop were fine without having to try to over-expose and hence guess what was needed each time.

It also helped having removed the teleconverter, meaning I was able to get the lens open wide (F4.5 and even down to F4), to get whatever light available, in the camera. Worked, as the shots, while noisy and a bit dark straight from the camera, came up okay after a bit of faffing in my image applications.

Sunday was spent on a golf course, and as usual, I found myself watching the woodland birds flitting around, though the best birdie of the day came when I chipped out of a bunker on a par 3, to see the ball bounce once and land straight in the hole!

Berkshire Birds

2011-01-11T22:54:00.003Z

At the start of 2010, I saw my first glossy ibis over in the marshes near Holt. Since then I have wished I'd had my big lens to have taken better shots, seeing as it was so accommodating. Well, after seeing some shots of one down in Berkshire (Dave Hutton), I was tempted to head down for a look myself, especially with the threat of sunshine for the first time on a weekend in weeks.

The trip didn't start well, with my satnav taking me to the wrong village! I thought it was weird when approaching the destination, not to have seen a single sign for Hungerford, and I soon worked out something had gone pear-shaped. Fortunately, it wasn't miles out, and I found the place manually instead. Technology eh?

Parked up and wandered to the reserve, and as Dave had warned, it was very muddy. Unfortunately, after the overnight rain, the river was high and there was no sign of the ibis. I think if the drive had been shorter, I'd have left, but as it was, I was determined not to miss out and give it as long as possible, and as hope faded (no-one had seen it at all), one of the locals reported that it had been seen further up-river.

Trudging through the mud, I made my way as far along the river as I could, and having now been joined by two other togs, we all searched together. No sign. I was cursing my luck when it suddenly appeared, flying over head, and so began the chase. We tracked it down to the shadows of the other side of the river initially, where we managed some shots, though the light was terrible, before a dog racing by spooked it further down river again.

Here it was a bit brighter, and we watched it hunting about in the shallows for food. At one point it managed to catch an elver, which took some wrestling to subdue and bolt down.

It was so tame though - we were stood within feet of it, yet it didn't seem worried at all. If anything, I'd have been better off with my 100-400mm lens, which I'd foolishly left sat at home. Being close was one thing, but getting some light was another, and thankfully at about 1pm, the clouds finally parted, and the sun lit up the scene, transforming the black bird into one that shone.

In this light, it really lived up to its name. Iridescent colours. Stunning.

Needless to say, this made the majority of the hard-worked shots in the morning look dull and most have been binned, but I wasn't grumbling. To see one so close in such bright light was fab.

Eventually though, I decided to head off to find the other attraction locally, and thanks to directions from one of the togs there who kept me entertained during the day (Winston Churchill no less), I was soon parking up at a place called Great Shefford, and looking at a new bird. A great white egret.

Stood amongst half a dozen little egrets, it really showed the size difference, and was rather elegant when walking around. Stretching and ruffling feathers, it gave a good show for a few mins, and I was glad I had arrived when I did, as suddenly it decided to fly off down the field, and dropped into the river below, not to be seen again! Well, not by me at any rate.

Despite the sun being out, it wasn't warm, and I headed back before dusk to the warmth of home. A very successful day trip.

New Year's Owls

2011-01-03T16:14:00.004Z

After the chaos of the snow followed days when it seemingly never got light. Mist and fog loomed and when that cleared, there was still no sign of the sun. And so ended 2010, with me hardly going out during December. The New Year brought an almighty hangover, and so on 2nd January, I dug out my camera, and inspite of the weather, headed out for a look at a new spot in Staffordshire, which had been producing some good short-eared owl shots lately.

At the end of December, I had ventured over to Willington Pits, in the hope of seeing the long-eared owl, but it never seemed to get light and my word was it cold. I did see 2 bitterns, a barn owl and as darkness closed in, a shortie, but no joy on the main target, and no photos worth airing. Took a couple of hours for my feet to defrost too.

I arrived a bit early, and after photographing the sign for the meadows (always handy, so you can refer back and not get lost), I trudged over to the area recommended for the birds. There wasn't much about, apart from a few crows and a lone kestrel, though I was soon joined by Ken, Ian and Stu, which raised my spirits.

None of us were entirely sure where was best to stand, so we picked somewhere with a good vantage point over the area and hoped. As usual, hawk-eye Ian spotted the first owl, and we were soon watching it quarter the fields. At some distance... and it initially stayed that way. Landing in a small tree, the shortie was caught by surprise by a kestrel, which knocked it off its perch, as these rather blurred pics show.

The bird soon disappeared into the undergrowth, and we didn't need to wait long for another to appear. By this time, I'd moved around from the others, gambling on a different spot, and it paid dividends. The owl flew right past me on a couple of occasions; too close to get it in the frame. Though me tripping over the tripod as I spun round following it, probably didn't help!

The owls seemed oblivious to people around, and at times looked like they were going to land on some of the walkers!

Sadly the light never really materialised, but using the manual settings for a change helped, and although the end results were a tad dark and noisy (it is a 50D!!), they were recoverable, and I got some reasonable images.

The owls were still hunting when we decided it was too dark for pics, and I stood nearby just watching one for a short while. Fabulous birds to watch and photograph. Just wish some would choose somewhere to winter, closer to home... or anywhere that doesn't involve the dreaded M6.

Let It Snow, Let It Snow...

2010-12-23T09:33:00.003Z

As a child, snow was always exciting and somewhat magical. Before even peering through the curtains, you'd know it was out there, from the strange light and silence in the morning. It made the world look like a Fairy Tale and most importantly, usually closed school! As an adult though, it's a pain the neck as work is rarely closed, so I have to fight my way in. That said, the latest fall came late on a Friday night, so by Saturday morning, I knew I could try for some snow shots.

I'd liked to have ventured further afield, but reports of gridlocked roads, crashes and abandoned vehicles swayed me to leave the car alone for a change, and simply enjoy what nature could offer me, in my own back garden. Filling up the feeders and sprinkling food around on the ground (pointless exercise as it was covered in moments!), I opted to sit on the veranda of the summer house, as it's sheltered from the falling snow and hides me slightly from the birds.

Wearing several layers of warm clothing, and wrapped in a bag hide, I waited patiently for the local birds to spot the food. Didn't take long, and soon the feeders were being visited by blue, great and coal tits, chaffinches, goldfinches, house sparrows, blackbirds, starlings and for me the star of the show, bullfinches.

I was chuffed to see three males glowing in the gloom from the blizzard, and I expect they were pleased to see a pair of females also taking the free sunflower seeds. There may a fight in Spring though, unless a third lady arrives!

I found myself taking shots of even house sparrows, as they sat on the snowy perches, and who can resist a robin? Not me.

Most of the berries from the hedges around the garden have been eaten already, so the holly bush beside my conservatory is a welcome treat for passing birds, and before I even got outside, I spotted a song thrush and redwing poking about amongst the spiny leaves.

Eventually it got too dull and I was a tad cold by then too, so I retreated back to the warmth of the house, hoping that I'd get similar chances on the Sunday, when the sun was supposed to be shining.

Hmm, Sunday arrived, but the sun must have had a lie in. No matter, I relocated to the back bedroom, and grabbed a few shots of the winter thrushes feeding in the trees and hedges around the garden.

I had to laugh at one fieldfare, when it picked a bright red berry, and had a real game to get it down.

Almost dropped it a couple of times, but eventually forced it down the hatch, and sat looking rather smug for a few moments after.

A short spell again in the garden itself yielded surprisingly little - perhaps the birds had been tempted elsewhere. However, I did spot one of the nuthatches, and best of all, given the bad weather and risk for them, I saw a pair of goldcrests picking off bugs from the fir tree.

A good weekend of photography, albeit rather cold and no miles covered at all. Not sure what the neighbours think of me though...

Hunting Waxwings

2010-12-15T08:45:00.003Z

What dreary weather we've been having lately. Not exactly encouraging us togs to venture out there, when the skies are grey, it's drizzling and not particularly warm either. Saturday was one such day, and despite seeing the bittern flying along the far side of the Moors pool, there was little else to note, though 3 water rails were mooching around near the feeders, scuttling across the iced edges of the lake.

Sunday promised to be better, and I first headed down to Warndon again, after seeing reports of waxwings on the Saturday. Set off in fine sunshine... arrived to find the estate covered in a blanket of thick fog, and no sight nor sound of the birds. Bugger. Oh well, checking on other sightings, I found myself down at Pershore, in even denser fog!

Over to Evesham next, and no birds and more mist. This was starting to annoy me, as the morning was almost gone, and I'd not seen a thing. Finally I decided to try to find the birds reported on an industrial estate over in Alcester, which turned out to be the same spot as I saw a black redstart earlier in the year.

Whilst cruising around the estate, I spotted something unusual on a factory roof, and did a double take... a red legged partridge! Fancy that! I did, and pulled over to get some shots. It seemed a bit confused to be up there and not in a pear tree at this time of year, but managed to show some seasonal magic by vanishing when I tried to reverse the car back for a better view.

Heading towards the River Arrow, I clocked a very encouraging sign. I say "sign", but really mean a person. Dave Hutton, who had been photographing the flock of waxwings for a couple of hours. Parked up and waited.

There were 28 birds (Dave counted, as I'm useless at flocks in flight) and they were initially on a small circuit between a tall tree beside the river, and several small berry trees by some flats. It was good because the berries were of different colours, allowing (when the birds descended) us to get shots on each.

As luck would have it, within about 20 mins of me getting there, the clouds amassed and the light rapidly left. Along with Dave, who said Stella was calling for him...

I stayed on for a while longer, chatting to locals and other togs, and trying to keep warm, though compared to recent weeks, it was almost tropical! Still cold after a while though, and the birds started to spread out around the estate, taking longer to return. That was my cue to leave, but not a bad day in the end. Fingers crossed that the sun will show itself one weekend soon, while these wonderful birds are still around for more pics.

Warndon Waxwings

2010-11-30T22:41:00.003Z

Sunday was to be taken up by the Christening of some friends' baby, but the forecast was for cloud, so what did it matter, right? Hmm, surprisingly enough I awoke to glorious sunshine and immediately tried to work out how I could fit some birding into the day.

Looking on Worcs Birding, I noted that a flock of waxwings had been seen in a housing estate north of Worcester, which would be easy to reach if time was at a premium, so after making my excuses to miss the drinks after the ceremony (I was on anti-cold pills, so couldn't drink), I was soon changed out of my suit and back into scruffs, ready for the trip down the M5.

Finding the exact location wasn't easy, as it's a maze of cul-de-sacs and I ended up having to use Sat Nav to find the right spot, and then a kind local (cheers Adam) pointed me in the right direction for the flock.

Typically, I had missed the best light of the day and each time the sun did shine on the berry tree, the waxwings refused to come down from their lofty perch at the top of a nearby oak.

Even so, with what little light there was, and by taking off the teleconverter to use the straight 500mm F4, I could get enough light for the odd sharp shot, when the birds descended to feed. And with the brick buildings as a backdrop, the images came out okay in the end. Not quite the birds against the blue sky which I could have obtained earlier on in the day, but they'll do... for the moment.

Given the numbers of them in the country, I would hope to get more chances to photograph them before the end of the winter.

Short-Eared Owls

2010-11-30T22:34:00.002Z

Since Mum died at the end of October, I've been struggling to find the enthusiasm to do anything much, and on top of that I've been suffering with a nasty virus, leading to a fever and a bad cold. I'm told that grief can lower one's immune system, so that figures. After a few days off work, I pushed myself back into that and as a result of it, decided that I really ought to get back out birding again, despite the weather and how grim I was feeling.

Reports of short-eared owls in Lincolnshire and friends' images of them were making me green with envy, but I just couldn't face the drive all the way up there, so looked for more local ones. Last year I had some joy looking at the owls at Cossington Meadows, but they've not shown up there (yet). However, 3 or 4 have been seen at a site in Leicestershire, not far from Rutland, so on Saturday, after failing to see Little Grump, I headed over to the site and met up with some friends who had also had the same idea.

My goodness was it cold!! Snow on the ground and a temperature below zero, made for numb fingers and toes in no time at all. Thankfully, after about an hour of waiting, 2 shorties appeared from the undergrowth and started hunting.

The area wasn't easy for photos though, as it's a plantation of trees, which meant the focus kept being taken from the owl and on to the trees, resulting in several pin sharp pics of trees. D'oh!

Occasionally though, it locked on to the shortie and despite the gloomy light and high ISO, I managed some reasonable shots. The best of them came when the bird perched up, firstly in a tree where it peered down like a big cat, and then later on a snow-covered post, making for a very wintery shot.

When the light faded too much for my camera to get any sort of shutter speed, it was definitely time to head home and it took about 2 hours for me to get the feeling back into my numb feet! I shiver just thinking about it now.

A good trip out and a useful spot to know about for the future. I expect I'll try to go again before the owls disappear once more.

Great Grey Shrike (Napton)

2010-11-03T13:01:00.004Z

I've not been out much recently with a lot on my mind given recent events at home, but I decided to force myself to go do some focused birding with a great grey shrike, seen over in Warwickshire at a place called Napton On The Hill, not a million miles from Draycote. The last one I'd seen, stayed so far off I could barely call the photos "record" shots!

Anyway, I parked up at a muddy area near some units by a bridge over the Oxford Canal, and wandered along the towpath, scanning the wires and bushes for the bird. Bingo - spotted it almost immediately, but it was in an old brick quarry, which meant walking all the way down the canal, up on to the road and then back along a track into the right area.

Was worth it though. My word, what a treat we had. I say "we" as there were several local birders / togs there, and we were chuffed to see the shrike perching on the wires overhead, and occasionally bushes, showing the great contrasting colours on it.

Then it did the unimaginable. It swooped down and landed on some posts, only a few yards away from us. Amazing views, especially as we weren't hiding!

It got better too, as it dropped down from the posts, catching grubs, and then flying back up and landing on posts getting closer to us each time.

Eventually, it was just on the other side of the track we were stood by, and I was struggling to get the bird in the shot, made more tricky with its habit of changing pose.

Still, beggars and all that... no-one was complaining. It flew off pretty quickly, but repeated the same trick, albeit not quite as close later on in the day.

With the wind picking up and droplets of rain in the air, the bird seemed to become less confiding, favouring the wires and more distant perches, and by mid-afternoon my stomach was rumbling and I didn't think I'd better the shots I'd already managed.

Definitely worth the effort and was good to remind myself that a bit of effort can yield results and better still, put a smile on my face, something that has been missing lately.

Port Meadow - Lesser Yellowlegs

2010-10-24T22:24:00.004+01:00

Saturday was a case of wrong place at the wrong time. Got up, seemed sunny, so headed up Clee Hill. Got there to find the car park occupied by local hoodies smoking weed - so not somewhere I particularly wanted to leave my car, and then after moving elsewhere, the heavens opened and temperature dropped.

Nothing to see, I headed back to Upton Warren, met up with Bob and we both sat in the spider hide as the heavens opened again. Only highlight being watching the bittern fly across the lake towards the car park, though too dull and too distant for anything other than record shots.

So, on to Sunday and what a change. After seeing Gareth's (Blockley) shots of the lesser yellowlegs down at Port Meadow near Oxford, I decided to try somewhere new. I say "new", as it's not somewhere I've been birding before, though one of my favourite pubs (The Trout Inn) is just up the road.

Parked at the free car park and walked across the meadow, bumping into a local 'tog who informed me that it was showing well, but that he'd not seen it for 20 mins since a sprawk had put everything up. He thought it'd gone to the far end, which is where I considered walking until I spoke to another birder (Pete Styles) who reckoned it'd be better waiting by the favoured feeding area.

So we did and it looked promising when a ruff arrived... followed shortly after by a female ruff. Both gave good photo opps and for a while it looked like they would be the only thing I'd get and distant shots of the huge flocks of golden plovers. But, patience won out again and after about an hour a wader glided into view, fluttered around and settled nearby.

Terrific, and it came closer as we waited. Reminded me of a redshank or greenshank, but with yellow legs (funny that!) and seemed most at home on the flooded grass. Didn't even move when a mad hound galloped past along the shoreline between me and it.

After it had pottered pretty close, then turned back away again, we both decided to call it a day and head off.
I was between minds as to bother heading down originally. Bloody glad I did!

Feckenham Wylde Moor

2010-10-20T09:54:00.003+01:00

I awoke to a slight frost on Sunday morning, though my lie in meant the car was already de-iced thanks to the morning sunshine. A text through to Ian confirmed that there was room in the hide where he was, and about an hour later I was sat with friends, peering out over the pool at Feckenham Wylde Moor (Worcestershire Wildlife Trust).

My first visit to this reserve was some years ago and I managed to get stuck in a bog in my wellies, taking about 10 mins to free one leg! Not great when you have a camera in hand. Since then I have been a few times, but lately more to watch the kingfishers from the hide by the pool.

I'd timed my arrival well as the sun was now on the various perches and the hide had warmed up a little. We didn't have to wait long for one of the stars to turn up. Initially it chose the far perch, but later visits gave better views as the kingfishers landed much closer.

Confusing us with their similar calls, several dunnocks flitted between the island and the fields, though the real distraction to the kingfishers was a wren, which mooched about in the undergrowth.

I know I have plenty of kingfisher shots already, but the occasional trip for some more usually yields results and towards the end of the session I managed a shot of one in an overhanging tree, which I'm particularly pleased with. Might get it printed out for the wall.

The onset of "numb-bum" gained from being sat on a bench for several hours eventually persuaded me to leave, with the aim of heading to Upton Warren in case the jack snipe was still around. A good move as I encountered a gorgeous kestrel perched on some wires, though problems with the camera (flat battery!) and then a party of ramblers put pay to my chances of getting any closer.

Needless to say, the snipe wasn't at the Moors, so I headed back to the pub, to sample some St Austell Tribute that had been kindly ordered in. Very nice!

Jack Snipe (Upton Warren)

2010-10-18T09:26:00.004+01:00

With a sunny weekend forecast, I should have been eager to be up with the dawn chorus on Saturday, but the overseas trip to Oslo (work) earlier in the week had left me with a chronic case of the yawns. Late nights and early mornings, which I blame on free wifi in the hotel room.

First call on Saturday after I'd dragged myself out of bed was actually the barbers, to trim the unruly mop of hair I'd been sporting lately. Then it was down the road to see if I could locate any of the little owls. I did, albeit just the one. And it was peeking out of a gap in the tree at me, which actually made for some different shots of it.

Eventually it came out into the open, briefly, before flying deeper into the tree to hide from a small flock of jackdaws that had descended on to the branches at the top. My cue to leave. with reports of a jack snipe being seen on the main pool at the Moors, I'd decided to head there for a change to the Flashes.

Peering out of the car window as I arrived, I saw someone in the North Moors hide, so thought I'd be nosey. Entering the hide I was informed of a jack snipe, right in front of the hide! Fantastic. I'd assumed that my views would be distant, given the scoped pics of the one on the other pool but this character was merely a few feet away.

Bobbing away, it mooched around in the shadows, occasionally pausing allowing me to try to get some better shots. The gold stripes down the back of this bird are so vibrant, and when it ventured into areas where the light was getting through, the green stripes were lit up beautifully.

In between feeding, the bird would half doze off, for up to 45 mins at a time, and at about 1pm, it tucked its bill into its back feathers and I had to leave, to indulge in another pleasurable activity... golf. Some great birds around on the course (Lickey Hills), including a fine mistle thrush, perched atop a tree laden with berries. No camera, of course!

Norfolk: Cley Marshes and Salthouse

2010-10-10T11:06:00.007+01:00

Saturday 2nd Oct:

The initial plan for the day was to meet up at Salthouse to try to photograph the barred warbler. But when I drove alongside Cley Marshes and saw how calm it was, I opted to park in the East Bank car park, and see whether the beardies were about. They were, in their flocks and in addition to this was the welcome sight of Di Stone, who'd come over for the day from her caravan holiday.

I've never seen so many bearded tits! The flocks at times numbered over 20 birds, all pinging as they flew. A wonderful sight, and when they landed close by, an even better photo opportunity. The males are such pretty birds, so striking in both colours and markings. Certainly made a great start to the day, and it wasn't long before Steve and Ann joined us, to take advantage of the unusually still conditions.

The warmth of the day soon brought about a breeze and the beardies descended the reeds for shelter. By then we had taken hundreds of shots and we changed our attention again to the buntings on the shingle banks behind the beach. After spotting a pair of Laplands, we approached with care and as with the Malvern bird, they didn't mind us taking photos. Unlike some pillock on the East Bank, who shouted (well, screamed) obscenities at us about how people like us kill birds. What a complete moron. Idiots like him disturb far more, and no doubt upset other folk with such foul language.

We left the birds to carry on feeding and moved over to Salthouse for the barred warbler. Finding it was easy as there was a crowd, and the warbler, a rather bland-looking chap, was feeding on the berries of the bushes. To be honest, had I seen it myself, I'd have put it down as a garden warbler, took a couple of shots and headed off! But what do I know?!

As it was, we bagged lots of images, though it never really showed that well, in the open. Steve stayed on, going bananas for that elusive, "out in the sunshine" shot, while Di and I headed along the path to see the red-necked phalarope over at Kelling. Wish we hadn't bothered, as the bird was a fair distance off, and against the sunshine, so I didn't even take a shot. Di managed to get some more bearded tit shots though, when a small family group flew in close by. In fact, all I got was a bad back. I really need to get a better backpack.

Back at the barred warbler, yet another rude birder told me off. "Keep still!!" he barked as I walked over. "Please" I replied. These people really have no manners at all, though I suspect I'd have said a lot more had there been no-one else around. And I fail to see how me approaching from one direction had any more bearing on the bird's behaviour than him walking directly past the bush when he'd had his fill of it.

The warbler hadn't given that shot to Steve and we retired to the car park for a break. Steve and Ann had to reluctantly leave, and Steve even more reluctantly had to hand back my lens. I hope he sorts something while his 500mm is being sorted by the insurers, as he's currently lens-less, which is a horrifying thought for any of us 'togs.

Di and I headed over to the Dun Cow to quench our thirsts, before she headed back to her husband at the caravan. I pottered around Cley a little longer before again trying the layby for the owls, and again failing to photograph any. At least I saw one this time, albeit a fair distance off. And typically, as I had a smaller lens with me, no owls were perched on the wall later!

Sunday 3rd Oct:

My last day and though the forecast was for rain, the morning was quite sunny. Very windy though, and walking along the East Bank was a tad blustery! Beardies were around, as was a pair of whinchats, but neither came close. The phalarope at Kelling was again distant, and the blast from a canister in a nearby field, spooked it away completely.

With the clouds on the horizon and the wind becoming increasingly strong, I headed home. Just the small matter of picking images to process from over 25 gig's worth taken!

Norfolk: Thornham, Brancaster and rain

2010-10-10T11:01:00.001+01:00

Friday 1st Oct:

With rain and gales forecast, Friday was a day for making the most of anything that came our way. I met up with Ann and Steve at Thornham Harbour and we scratched around looking for birds to photo. Ann managed to locate a little egret fishing in one of the channels, and again managed to creep up close enough to get some good shots with her 300mm lens, whereas Steve seemed more content to wander around in case any buntings were about.

I spotted a wheatear posing on old, weathered posts which despite the gloom looked lovely, and a bit of patience and luck gave me some decent shots. Love these birds as they're such good posers.

Back to Brancaster after a brief visit to Titchwell which proved that birds are as reluctant to be out in miserable conditions as we are, and with the weather closing in and Steve & Ann needing to pack up ready to leave on Saturday, they left me to watch the waders and wait for the rain to roll in.

As is typical with birds, with the poor light on offer, the waders decided to come in closer, and I got some rather grey shots of godwits, curlew, knots, redshanks and dunlins. A pair of curlew also decided to have a bit of a scrap on the mud which provided some amusement.

Hoping the weather would be better down at Cley, I tried my luck there, but the winds and rain were there too, and I abandoned hope for shots in favour of another cosy evening in the Lifeboat, again with a giggling Ann and a despairing Steve. He has a habit of setting himself up for mickey-taking at times!

On the way back to the B&B, I had a great experience. Along the walls of Holkham Hall were several owls. The three barn owls I saw, all flew off when I slowed down for a look, though I was surprised to even see them given that it was lashing it down with rain, and blowing a gale. One of the owls looked a bit different though, and I was delighted to see it was a tawny. I managed to park up near it, and in the glow from my headlights, I could see it pretty well. Without a small lens though (Steve was borrowing my 100-400mm after his 500mm broke) I had no chance of a photo, and besides, I doubt it would have been any good without a proper flash.

In the end I took a couple of snaps with my phone, but it was too dark and wet for anything worth posting. But what a gorgeous bird. Huge dark eyes and fabulous markings. A real treat to see, though it eventually showed me what it thought, by pooping down the wall and flying off into the woods behind.

Norfolk: Hunstanton, Brancaster, Cley and Titchwell

2010-10-09T11:25:00.005+01:00

Thursday 30th Sept:

After waking up to sunshine, I initially aimed for the Burnham marshes where I've seen barn owls in recent trips, but they seemed few and far between this time, and a text from Steve confirming the presence of the wryneck at Hunstanton was all it took to tempt me that way, to join them on the cliffs.

We could see the bird easily enough, but it was sat amongst the undergrowth and not really worth a shot. Steve was doing his usual role of a tour guide and helping people see it, so much so, he ended up missing the shot he wanted. The bird burst from cover and landed on a post momentarily. I managed to grab a handful of shots but he only managed one, and the wryneck disappeared from view again.

It's happened to me before so I understand the feelings. You've put in the hours and someone else (me and several other 'togs) get the reward. To try to cheer him up I said I'd find the bird again for him, and walked off along the path. Standing on a bench, I scanned the edge of the clifftop for it through my bins, and was rather startled when I looked down for a second, and spotted the wryneck sat no more than 10 feet in front of me, in the grass.

Frantically I attracted Steve's attention and he was this time fortunate enough to arrive just in time for the bird to pose on another post for a good half a minute, allowing us all to get some great shots. After seeing the one on Clee Hill in the gloom or stark sunlight, this was a welcome change and the pictures are leagues better than those from before.

After searching around again, we briefly located the bird a lot further down the hedge, but dog walkers spooked it again, and with the time for high tide approaching, we relocated to Brancaster Harbour, to watch the waders there.

What a good spot too. You're able to park up (for free) at the very end of the harbour and as the tide comes in or retreats, the birds make the most of whatever mud is exposed. Or, if folks happen to be chucking bread around they surround the cars, which is what happened for us.

Black-headed and common gulls mixed it with the fleet-of-foot turnstones, to grab the crumbs, and provided many photo opportunities from the comfort of the car. Remaining on the mud were redshanks, godwits, dunlins and knots, and nearby a rather hindered looking grey plover with a broken leg, hopped around pulling at worms.

Waders aside, Norfolk of course attracts some rarities, and Steve was keen to get some shots of Lapland buntings over at Cley, so we headed off that way, and it didn't take us long to find one. After the one on Malvern recently, I wasn't that bothered with it initially, but the bug soon got to me, and I was alongside, snapping away. Plus it looked a bit different on the shingle to the grass of the hilltop.

Also nearby were snow buntings, and when the Lapland flew off, we located a lovely male and took some shots of that. Ann managed to get incredibly close to it, though she did have to suffer sitting on a thistle to get the rewards.

To end the day, we shot over to Titchwell again, this time to see a grey phalarope that was apparently "showing well". Problem with such reports is that they are generally written by birders who class "showing well" as being able to see it, which can be 300 yards away through a scope. Not so this time though, and we were very pleased to find the bird virtually under our feet. Too close for me at times, so I had to back away to fit the bird in the shot. Certainly a tad better than the views of the grey phalarope at the Flashes!

A great day ended at the Lifeboat Inn, where we enjoyed a fine meal and ale (mmm, Wherry!), and had a good laugh about events, and planned the next day's adventure.

Norfolk: Titchwell Marsh

2010-10-09T10:50:00.003+01:00

Wednesday 29th Sept:

The rain, accidents and roadworks meant that I arrived at Wells-Next-The-Sea a little later than planned, but checked into the B&B for the stay, dropped off my bags and headed out immmediately. Rather than aiming for Cley, I opted for the free option of Titchwell (being an RSPB Member) and made my way to the hides by the lake. The diggers etc were still working away on the new bank, but the reserve is now open again and had the weather been less unpleasant, I might have headed to the beach.

From the hide I could see a large flock of golden plovers, a few pintails, avocets and ruff in the distance, and closer up, loads of lapwings and various ducks. Of interest for photography though, were a couple of little stints which were pottering around with a few more dunlins. While the light was woeful, they actually came so close to the hide, I couldn't focus on them.

After Titchwell, I met up with Steve Seal and his partner, Ann, down at Brancaster Harbour, and planned what we might get up to over the coming days. With the weather closing in, I retired to the Globe Inn for the evening, for a very nice steak meal and a couple of jars of Adnams.

Lapland Bunting & Pec Sand

2010-09-27T09:05:00.003+01:00

Despite Max's comments about the speed at which I walk along, those who know me, know how unfit I am, so the thought of climbing to the top of one of the hills in the Malverns didn't appeal at all, especially given I'd nearly keeled over climbing one of the smaller hills a week before only to see no birds at all.

This time however, the target was Lapland buntings and I was keen to bag some shots of a little bird I'd never seen before, but most photographers across the country had already snapped, annoyingly. Early start and after spotting Dave Jackson's car in the carpark, I knew I might have some help in finding the bird. But first came the hike up there. Camera and tripod over one shoulder, I took it slowly and even then, had to "take in the view" a couple of times from benches on the way up.

Also, after texting Dave, the news came through that he'd not seen the birds yet, the original small flock reduced down to just one individual now. Not another blank on the Malverns...?

Well, no. Just as I stumbled to the top of North Hill, Dave sent a message through - he'd found it. Now I just needed to find them, and luckily, they were just over the brow of the hill. And I arrived in time to have just missed it! A hiker had spooked it.

A quick search around and the bird flew back into view, higher up the hillside. I took some record shots in case, and then set about crawling as slowly as I dared, closer.

After a few mins, Dave had had his fill of the bird, and headed back down the hill leaving me alone with it. With no-one to upset if I ventured too close, I crept closer still and was amazed to find the bunting so accommodating. It was more distracted by passing birds, such as crows and mipits.

By keeping low, I managed to get the sort of shot I was after, with grass and sky in the frame, and a good depth of field too.

Eventually, despite the warmth of the sunshine, the northerly breeze encouraged me back down the hillside, and over to Upton Warren, to see the American tourist there - a juvenile pectoral sandpiper.

Unlike the bunting, the "pec" refused to come close and we (the hide was as jam-packed as I've seen it) had to make do with record shots of the bird. Nothing like so close as the one at Draycote last year. Still, a good one for the reserve and obviously popular with the locals!

Belvide Bonus

2010-09-13T23:17:00.003+01:00

Waking up to sunshine streaming through the curtains is a rare thing lately, but Sunday promised to be fine, and gave me a dilemma. After seeing some fabulous shots by Carl Day (Malvern Birder) lately, I was really tempted to head to his neck of the woods (or should that be "hills"?) in search of the wheatears, redstarts and maybe whinchats he'd bagged lately. Thing is, the area is pretty big and being a Sunday, I'd expect it to be a dog walkers' paradise.

Hence I looked at the alternative, Belvide. With greenshanks, little stints and whinchats reported here, plus the usual suspects, it looked good. At least until I arrived, and saw the lake. Or should I say "puddle". I've never seen it so empty and suddenly the reports of the little stints being "right in front of the hides, on the shore" took on a new meaning. Walking to the farthest hide, I did see a hobby, though it vanished over the trees before I could react, and from the hide all I could see were birds on the other side of the lake. To make matters worse, it started to rain!

Once the shower died down, I decided to take a stroll towards the very western edge of the reserve, and thankfully my luck changed. Within a few yards I had spotted a couple of birds posing in the sunshine on the top of the hedgerow, and viewing through my bins showed them to be juvenile whinchats.

Creeping up on anything when carrying the lens and tripod isn't easy, so I took a few shots as I approached, though they soon took flight, maybe alarmed by the fool with the camera, or perhaps because they could sense the weather changing again. Yes, it poured down and with no shelter, I just stood and tutted at the situation. Alas the whinchats had made good their escape, and didn't return.

Walking back towards the eastern end of the reserve, I spotted a lone greenshank near the water's edge, and set up ready for some shots. Now I know there were some at Brandon Marsh this year, but for some reason I never managed to get over to photo them, and they've remained a bogey bird since. So this wasn't an opportunity I'd let slip.

Didn't have to wait long for the bird to head back towards me and I managed a few shots before it heard the camera, and moved over to a stretch of the shore further away.

I popped into most of the hides on the way back, seeing various tits and the tree sparrows from one, plus more views of a hobby being harrassed by a crow, and a peregrine which landed amongst the geese on the far shore. Must have been waving a white flag as almost nothing took note of it being there.

I didn't actually see the little stints in the end, though I did get distant views of a knot that had dropped in. Speaking of dropping in, I headed to the Flashes to end the day, hoping to see the ruff, but it had left. I did get to see a lone avocet visitor and took some shots of a green and common sandpiper that strayed close to the hide.

A Good Tern At Earlswood

2010-09-13T22:45:00.005+01:00

Friday night ended up being a late one, with the highlight being seeing a local barn owl hopping into a puddle on a country road, lit up in my headlights. Good to know they're around the area, even if I can't seem to find them when it's light. So Saturday morning started with a lie in, and the miserable weather outside meant I didn't feel guilty about not being out and about.

As the clouds lifted, I opted to take the short drive over to Earlswood Lakes, to see if I could spot the black terns that had been there for a couple of days. I ought to go here more often as there is always plenty to see, though folks used to give me strange looks when I wandered around with the 100-400mm lens, so gawd knows what they'd think of this bazooka I carry around these days!

Climbing to the top of the steps, I soon located the terns, and after walking to one side, I opted to walk back to the other side where despite the sun being sort of in the wrong place, the birds were generally much closer. A red buoy also seemed to make a good perch for one of the birds, while the others fished.

Within moments of me getting set up though, the local boating club came out in force, and started sailing around everywhere, which must have infuriated the fishermen (I think there was a contest on too) as well as me, as they kept making all the birds take flight. I had to laugh though, as one couple tried to change direction in their dinghy, and got it very wrong, resulting in the chap taking an early bath...

After taking a few more shots of the terns, I had decided to head elsewhere, as getting flight shots wasn't easy with the big lens, but as I trudged back along the causeway to the car, I spotted the unmistakable "march" of Max, heading towards me. He'd also come to see the terns, after the midday footie had failed to grasp his interest, so I walked back to show him the best place to get shots from. And as I was there, I bagged a few more, only this time I made the effort to get the 100-400mm out and try for some flight shots.

The effort of tracking these agile flyers soon took its toll on Max, who said he'd got enough rubbish shots and we both walked back along the path, only to find it blocked by a juvenile heron, who didn't bat an eyelid as we approached. With the dark background, I took some portrait shots of the bird, which eventually strolled off along the path, squirting out what it thought of us as it left!

I ended the day by dropping into the North Moors, though the only bird of note was a hobby, and that was rather distant.

Curlew Sandpiper

2010-09-05T13:29:00.003+01:00

Having seen a small flock of curlew sandpipers at the Flashes, I was rather envious to see Max and Dave had managed to capture some terrific close up shots of a few over at Draycote, and I crossed everything that they'd stay around for the weekend.

Another early start and I was soon pulling up at the carpark at Draycote, and having the good fortune to bump into Max, on site for another go at the birds. Walking along the path, Max was concerned for his well-being, with cyclists whizzing by at speed, silently approaching. He has a point - the place can be dangerous, especially when windy as you can't hear anything.

However, the wind from the previous weekend had eased, the lake was calm and photographing the one remaining juvenile curlew sandpiper, were George and Dick. George is infamous for being the (motorbiker) dweller of the Carlton Hide at Brandon Marsh, for dropping his camera out of the window there, and being able to go collect it, with one of the kingfishers remaining on its perch, unconcerned at his daft antics!

I quickly set up and began taking shots, though getting any with a catchlight in the eye proved tricky, and I had to find a spot on the rocks to do so, which was rather uncomfortable, and prickly, as Max discovered when he sat on a bramble.

The bird seemed oblivious to us and carried on feeding, occasionally being chased by aggressive ringed plovers, also juveniles. After bagging a fair few shots, I heard a familiar voice behind me, and casting a glance up to the path, I spotted Steve Seal. He'd driven 85 miles to get some shots of a bird he'd never photographed here before.

It was quite a difference to the previous, lonely and horrid visit to Draycote, being surrounded by friends (old and new), all trying to get a shot of this rather rare bird. Eventually we managed some shots with that glint in the eye, and retreated to the path when the skies clouded over.

I eventually headed back to the Flashes for the juvenile ruff, but not before we had a good natter by the refreshments van. The ruff failed to deliver, as it stayed at a distance, but was good to see anyway. As I type this now, the skies are blackening again, so I think my birding for the weekend might be done. I'm not that disappointed, as Saturday has left a smile on my face.

Bank Holiday Bonus

2010-09-05T12:53:00.006+01:00

September already - the summer (don't laugh) has flown by and autumn is approaching rapidly, though some would argue that the autumnal weather is well ahead of schedule. As such, the recent Bank Holiday weekend failed to offer any really promising weather, and ideas of going to bearded tit sites were blown away with the strong winds. Instead I'd have to make do locally, and after seeing a wryneck sighting at Clee Hill, that was my first target.

Arriving early on Saturday morning, I spotted Bob's car, but couldn't spot the man himself, and ended up climbing to the summit of the hill in search of both him and the bird. No sign, and with the lung capacity of a shrew following this cough (still hasn't gone) it was hard work. So you can imagine my annoyance to realise the bird and watchers were about 100 yards down the hill from my parked car. D'oh!

Still, I got to watch a dozen ravens swooping in the gales, a pair of sparrowhawks, buzzards and several kestrels, though none would allow me a shot where the light was any good.

Following instructions from a birder, I stumbled around a narrow path to discover I had accidentally wandered right on top of the bird, and I doubt upset some of the birders, though none had words later, other than asking if I'd seen it close up. I hadn't. In fact it took a good hour of looking before I did, and then commenced a few hours of creeping around in a very wet field, to try to get any sort of a shot.

I was in good company as it turned out, with several photographers there who I knew or read the blogs of, so despite the wind being so unseasonably cold, we amused each other waiting for the bird to show.

First one I've seen and rather reminiscent of a nuthatch, both in appearance and behaviour, though this favoured eating ants. Unlike the nuthatch, this was remarkably well camouflaged, like a leaf with legs and a beak.

With nowhere else to go, we spent hours stalking the wryneck, taking shots when possible. The light wasn't great and eventually, the biting cold got the better of me, and the shelter of my car won out. A great bird to see though and a good start to the Bank Holiday.

Sunday started with a walk around Whitacre Heath, where I saw nothing. Seriously, nothing. Just one gull flying overhead. Then I headed to Draycote Water, which was rather a stupid idea. The place is windy even on the calmest of days, so in gales it was obviously going to be unpleasant, though the shots Max had managed of the waders tempted me anyway.

I got some shots of the dunlins and ringed plovers, but crikey was it hard work. The gusts of wind blew me off my feet at times, and I had to catch the camera when one particularly strong gust knocked over the tripod.

Wisely I opted to head for somewhere with a hide and arrived at Upton Warren's Flashes to be asked by the sole birder in the hide, to bag some record shots of a flock of curlew sandpipers that had just landed. Didn't take long for the news to get out and soon the hide filled up with local birders, eager for a view.

One of which then provided me with a snippet of information about the whereabouts of a family of hobbies, which takes us to Monday...

An early start again, and soon Stuart and I were wandering across some fields in Worcestershire, to meet with the birder who informed us. Without realising, the hobbies were sat near us on the ground, and took off when we got too close.

I'd expected them to perch on posts or in trees, not just sit around on the ground, but as it turned out, the field was sheltered and they could sit in the warmth of the sunshine there. That said, they did also perch in trees, and we spotted 3 juveniles, all on one branch. A stealthy approach was needed, and with next to no cover, we crept alongside a hedge, taking shots as we got closer. It almost worked, though when one took flight, the others almost immediately copied and that was the end of that idea.

Even so, we'd got some pics of hobbies perched, which is what I'd wanted, and Stuart had also got some flight shots, which he was after.

Cold Comfort For Change

2010-08-13T09:52:00.005+01:00

Right, where are we? August. I've not been anywhere far afield lately, due to a cough and cold, and also due to the amount of travelling I've already done this year. That said, it won't hold me back later in the year. Locally though, there have been some gems turning up.

First of all, Little Grump. Earlier this year I finally spotted a second little owl in the oak tree and since then have been hoping that the pair would produce some even littler owls for me to see. A little owl addict on Bird Guides advised me on how to listen out for the calls of the young, and so, whenever possible I've been parking up next to the tree and listening.

Nothing in general and I was beginning to lose hope, until one morning towards the end of July, I heard the hissing. Within moments, I'd spotted a ball of fluff, a little owlet.

I still grin even now thinking about it sat in the tree, glaring at me like the adults, but less camouflaged due to the downy feathers. It soon scurried off before I could get a shot, when a pair of joggers went by, but persistence paid off, and I bagged some shots.

Needless to say, I went back the next day too, and was rewarded with better views of the owlet and also realised that there were two of them! Amazingly, they could already fly a bit, and bounced around the tree like a fluffy monkey.

Amusing to watch and photograph. At one point, it pulled some strained yawning expression, which it held for several minutes. Too hot, perhaps?

Another treat I received was in the woods near Chaddesley, where I'd originally gone to see spotted flycatchers that had been reportedly seen there. I failed to see them, but did encounter a family of treecreepers, who had made a nest in the woodshed. This made it slightly easier to capture one, though they move so quickly, when trying to get a full-framed shot, you still needed to be lightning fast with the shot.

I was intrigued to see the amount and type of grubs being brought back each time. Looks like earwigs are popular!

Finally kingfishers. I've not really set out to get any shots of them since acquiring my 500mm lens, so when I saw Stuart's pics of one from Feckenham Wylde Moor (Worcs Trust) I thought it would be worth a go. I'd not been out at all since picking up the cough, so perhaps this would provide something of a welcome break from the misery of blowing my nose all the time and coughing.

The sun was out when I arrived at the hide and I settled down next to a pair of gentlemen already there. One soon left (perhaps concerned about Lurgy Boy's cough) to look around the rest of the reserve, leaving the pair of us on kingfisher watch. It hadn't been seen for about an hour. I took that as being a good sign, in that it ought to show up soon.

It did. And my word was it close! Had to turn the camera to portrait mode to get the bird in the frame. The bird being a juvenile female, and a prolific fisher too. Must have taken 5 fish on the first visit, and another 3 or 4 on subsequent appearances.

A lot of my previous kingfisher shots are cropped a fair bit, so it was superb to get some full frame shots, and in good light too. Even bagged some with a stickleback caught.

After about 90 mins, the phone rang and I was invited to the pub by some friends. Seeing as I'd taken a good few shots by then and the light was fading, I took them up on the offer. I think I've got my fill of kingfisher shots now, at least for the time being. I don't ever seem to get tired of getting my fill of real ale though!

Some Like It 'Ot

2010-08-03T09:29:00.002+01:00

Getting used to normal bird photography after the trips to Scotland and Skomer has been quite a come down. There seems to be very little around at the moment, aside from gulls, which if you read this blog you know I'm not exactly one to get excited by such birds. Sure, I could go to Brandon Marsh and add to the numbers of 'togs getting shots of the kingfishers performing there (still might) but I wanted something a little different.

I'd been to RSPB Otmoor earlier in the year but there was little about that I could see (dipped on the garganeys), though the new hide looked promising, albeit unfinished back then. And I'd got drenched there too, when the heavens opened as I was at the furthest point away from shelter. However, at this time of year there should be hobbies present, so I set off with these wonderful agile birds in mind.

On reaching the reserve the sun was out and it was quite an effort to walk to the gate without sweating profusely. I walked along the bridle-way, towards the military range and chuckled at the warnings on the Gate. There was a warning about not picking up debris as it might kill you. Another than cows with calves can be aggressive and a third saying that there was a bull loose in the field. With this in mind, I turned back and returned to the main part of the path again!

Scanning the skies as I went, it became pretty clear that there were no hobbies present. Just a sole kestrel, hunting way out over the marshes. I was about to head along the path to see the hide and what it looked out on, when a bird shape caught my attention. It looked brown and pointy, and was sat on a bar of a fence of a cattle enclosure. Bins out in a flash and I had clocked a cuckoo. And a juvenile one at that. As with the adults though, as soon as I'd fired off a couple of shots, it flew off.

Unlike the adults, it stayed in the same sort of area, and I moved position to get a better view of the enclosure, from the gate on the reserve. I did expect it to take flight, but it was far more interested in the caterpillars around, and wasn't bothered by me at all. In fact, it flew a lot closer, and sat on a post, yards from me.

From here it would then swoop down into the undergrowth, and return with a caterpillar, knock the insides out of it, and consume. Then look for another. This took it to different perches, while I waited patiently, taking shots as it went about its business. What a cracking bird though.

Eventually, it was spooked by someone walking along the path, and took flight further into the reserve, but by then I had bagged a load of shots and had all but forgotten about the lack of hobbies. And with the light fading as dark clouds rolled in, I opted to head back home, as I had a flight for work in the morning, meaning a get-up at 4am.

While there is no hope of seeing eagles or puffins when out and about locally, the trip had proved that you can still dig up gems and had raised my spirits no end.