Little Owls And Staying Local

After a week of mainly sunny days, it wasn't a huge surprise to me that the weekend's forecast was for cloud, snow and then possibly a moment of sunshine late Sunday afternoon. With the snow in mind, I really wanted to head over to Northants for the SEOs, but alas, we are in England and as soon as a single flake of snow falls from the sky, it's gridlock everywhere, and you have to sleep in your car. 

As such, I thought I'd try local instead, and before heading down the M42, I called in to see if Little Grump was out in its tree. One of them was, sat on a branch on the side of the tree, out in the open. I had time to get the camera ready and window down, before pulling the car up on the verge. Two shots, and it looked at me, turned tail and flew off to the stump in the field. Looking through the hedge, I could see both on the stump, so got out, and pointed the bazooka at them, handheld. Given the light and shutter speed, and my still painful wrist, I was amazed the shot came out as well as it did. 

When the owls flew further off, into the trees at the back of the field, I decided to head off and found myself stood beside the river, at the back of the Bittern Hide at the Moors (Upton Warren), scanning the trees for the lesser spotted woodpecker. No sign of it, though I did see plenty of thrushes (song, fieldfare and redwing), plus goldcrest, a couple of wrens, a buzzard, a great spotted woodpecker and at least one male blackcap, feeding amongst the ivy. After about half an hour, I was joined by Trevor Jones, who helped with the search. We also had a good chat about trips north of the border - I must get my act together with a winter trip to Scotland one day... 

With the feeling in my toes starting to disappear, I headed to the Bittern Hide, to try for some shots of the birds around the feeders. It was actually colder in the hide, as its raised position meant it was catching the light breeze, which went right through me as I sat peering out of the windows. The feeders were busy, with reed buntings, greenfinches, blue, great and long-tailed tits, dunnocks and occasionally the great spotted woodpecker swooped in for a go on the fat balls. My interest though, was mainly on the small numbers of bullfinches. Despite the gloom, the males glowed. Would have been nicer to get a shot with a cleaner backdrop, but they're so vibrant they tend to distract you from looking elsewhere on the image. 

Also around, though providing only brief glimpses were common snipes and water rails. They seemed to appear from the reedbed, scurry across the frozen pool and head towards the free-flowing water of the stream. I guess they had a prayer of being able to find some food there! 

By now I had been joined by Bob and Chris, who were also interested in the feeder visitors, and provided some good conversation to take our minds off how cold it was. Chris kept warm by grabbing at his camera as it tried to leap out of the hide window... and Bob had his hand-warmer with him. I should get one - they're so erm, handy! 

Eventually though, with the snow coming down, I yearned for the warmth of the car, and left them to it. Defrosting in the car, I felt it was too early to be heading home, so again, diverted to see the owls. This time, only one was visible, and was perched as close to the trunk of the tree as it could, trying to be out of the wind and driving snow. Didn't look too happy, but when do they ever?

It kept looking around as if to work out if anywhere else was more sheltered, and moved eventually, when it had snow settling on its head. A quick ruffle of its feathers, to shake off the snow, and that was about as entertaining as it got. I headed home to warm up properly. 

Sunday was cloudy. Snow on the ground, but after the night before, when it took me 40 mins to cover 2 miles in the car (so much for B'ham Council's boasts about being ready for the snow), I wasn't keen on going out. But it was starting to thaw, and I convinced myself that going to the owls wouldn't be that bad. It wasn't, though the traction-control light flashed a few times on the way there, and the country roads were still covered and untreated. 

Looking up at the tree, I realised the owls were sat near each other in the branches. Careful parking on the verge allowed me to get a shot of them together, albeit with one somewhat blurred in the background. 

With nothing else to do, and it being so quiet I chose to stay and watch for a while. They occasionally moved when people wandered by, which was good, as they have a habit of sitting still for hours. 

This allowed for some shots of them looking somewhat startled at the people, looking for safer places to perch and best of all, for a few seconds, both sat very close to each other on the same branch. 

When they both flew away, one to a tree down the road and the other to an obscured branch, I thought I ought to head back. But I had time on my side. No need to move was there? 

Well, one incident with a pair of lads in a new Mini, when their car lost traction and for a good 5 seconds looked to be on a collision course with my car, only to grip at the very last second and miss by less than an inch, made me reconsider, and I chose to head home! 

The sun popped its head out for a short while, so I set up in the garden. I was very pleased to see a redpoll on the nyger seed feeder, though it disappeared when I went outside. However, the local pair of goldcrests were busy mooching through the branches of the pine tree, and kindly paused for a moment to allow for an easier shot or two. 

Then I had one of those magic moments - I had been inside the conservatory for a telephone call, and just got back outside to my camera when I looked up, and at the end of the garden, looking directly at me from behind an apple tree was a fox. Looked in good nick too. 

Neither of us moved for a second, until the voice in my head shouted "Get a photo you moron!" and the movement of my arm and head towards the camera made the fox vanish into the shadows behind. No picture, but a moment to treasure. Perhaps I should spend more time in the garden - I wonder what I'm missing!

Crossbills At Last

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

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

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!

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

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

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.