The longest day (Part one)

Saturday 26th August was the longest day of the year, but only in the sense of hours spent in the field. I had decided to get up pre-dawn to get to the patch early, but a night of fitful sleep and worry that I would oversleep caused me to get up too early. I stumbled out of bed at 3.30am with Lyn mumbling that I was mad, an opinion I found it hard to disagree with, and was driving to the patch before 04.00am. In my mind's eye the journey would be laced with Badgers, Foxes, and perhaps an Otter or two. In reality all I saw were a few moths and a small rodent skipping into the roadside verge.

After parking up I set off down the road. The silence really strikes you at this time, my welly clad feet such an intrusion that I tried to walk slowly and more carefully so as not to spoil the moment. My ears were straining for wild sounds, initially restricted to the thin "sip" sounds made by Dark Bush Crickets in the hedgerow. My first bird was a calling Pheasant, then as I approached Netherstead a young Tawny Owl started hooting. By now my eyes were more accustomed to the dark and although there was partial cloud cover, it was surprisingly easy to see. The ambient light from Redditch to the west created a dull glow across the sky, although where the cloud broke I could see plenty of stars.

By 5.00 am I could hear the hum of distant traffic as the world started to wake up. By now I was heading for the flashes, and was beginning to hear some water birds; Greylag Goose, and Moorhen. A Little Owl called, but I scanned in vain for any sign of a Barn Owl which I had hoped might justify the early start. Mallards quacked, startled Skylarks called, and I could hear the restless calls of Green Sandpipers, Snipe, and Lapwing before the gloom revealed 19 Canada Geese standing in the marsh.

Normal  birding was resumed as it gradually became possible to use my scope. The eventual total for the flashes was 27 Teal, 13 Snipe, 12 Green Sandpipers, a record count (for me), 54 Starlings,44 Lapwings, and one Wood Sandpiper. My prediction in my last blog that the Wood Sandpipers would go overnight was proved only partly correct as the brighter juvenile did indeed leave, but fortunately this duller bird has remained.

By sunrise the cloud had virtually disappeared and the angle of the strong sunlight was making life difficult as I had to walk adjacent to its penetrating rays. I stopped at a particularly lively hedge and watched the first flock of an eventual 70 Goldfinches interspersed with the occasional Whitethroat and Chiffchaff. Then I found I could hear a voice, and noticed the birds were getting nervous and streaming down the hedge past me. These included a Song Thrush, difficult to see of late. The voice revealed itself to be that of Antoinette who was walking her two free running, large and boisterous Alsations, which barked and bounded excitedly as they saw me. So much for dog training school. Their owner changed direction and with a friendly wave succeeded in encouraging them to head off up the ridge. I set off slowly along the hedge, and at the small pond at its end heard an almost forgotten sound. The first Kingfisher of the year was visiting, and I just had time to see it head off across the fields.



Kingfisher

 Back at Netherstead I finally managed to see one of the tacking sylvia Warblers which turned out to be a young Blackcap. Pishing at the reedbed instantly produced an agitated Reed Warbler, and eventually another three. It was now approaching 9.00 am and I was heading back to my car to go for breakfast when I got a text from John Yardley. He had found four Whinchats, so I hurried to join him as these were the first this autumn. They were where they turn up every year on passage, on the barbed wire fence bordering the main pool. Superbly characterful little chats. A fitting end to my early morning section.