Let It Snow, Let It Snow...

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

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

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

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)

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

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

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!