A cautionary tale

I arrived on site at 08.30 and started birding under a heavy grey sky and with the first spots of drizzle there to greet me. I had just reached the small copse by Netherstead Farm when a small looking falcon flew past me, had a pop at something at the edge of the wood and then disappeared behind it. I had seen no plumage features at all but it was definitely a falcon and given it was small, surely a Merlin. After a few seconds of private self congratulation the falcon reappeared from the other side of the wood, but now it looked subtly different, its flight appeared more steady somehow, alarm bells were ringing, it was heading for the nearest pylon where it landed and, yes, it was a Peregrine. I was having difficulty believing I had got things so wrong and spent about half an hour checking fence posts, clinging desperately to the two-bird theory. But another look at the Peregrine told me it was quite a small one, presumably a male, and I have to accept that I had been the victim of size illusion. Judging size of flying birds is one of the trickiest things. We are all biological computers, and if you put the wrong data in, you get the wrong result out.

Never mind, I next found a little flock of Lesser Redpolls, at least 15 birds feeding in the game crop with Reed Bunting and Chaffinches. The main pool is looking more like its old self, and I was surprised to discover that the drake Pintail had reappeared. I was unable to edge past without flushing it, but fortunately I relocated it on the flash along with 51 Teal, 62 Lapwings, 16 Snipe, the Dunlin had also reappeared, and a Green Sandpiper. There were a few more Meadow Pipits about but otherwise spring is still on hold.



Peregrine

 The sun was out by the time I was ready to leave, but the sudden appearance of horse boxes and the sound of baying hounds alerted me to the fact it was time to leave as the local hunt was about to start its own form of nature study.