Lockdown - Sat 28/03/2020

This is the first of what is intended to be a twice weekly post relating to the species of birds, butterflies, and moths (other creatures may also feature) in our garden at Winyates East on the east side of Redditch. The subject of these posts will continue to focus on our garden as long as government advice remains that there should be no travel except for essential purposes.

Although our garden is in Worcestershire according to modern political boundaries (and therefore for bird records), it is in VC38 which counts as Warwickshire for the recording of all other groups (eg insects).

I'll begin with some images taken from our windows, and in our garden, to illustrate how ordinary and suburban the environment is.

The front aspect looking north

The front garden

As you can see the front garden is very small, and cultivated for flowers and shrubs. 

A view from a back window looking south

Our back garden is a reflection of the fact Lyn and I have different visions of how it should look. The pretty bit is near the house. Lyn is unfortunately unable to garden, but is very willing to direct me. The extent to which I comply can be a bone of contention.

Lyn's bit.

On the opposite side of the garden is a dilapidated shed and a "wild area" which shows what can be achieved by total neglect.

My bit

The garden is dominated by a mature apple tree which produces a variety of apple called Blenheim Orange, and an awful lot of tiny moths at the right season.

Many birders in the UK started keeping lockdown lists of birds from last weekend. My start was delayed until Friday by my reluctance to embrace the concept of not going out, and I have paid for that tardiness as the sunny weather of the past week has given way to largely grey skies and a chilly north-easterly wind. This is not great for insect recording.

So down to business. A combined total of yesterday's and today's birds is as follows:

1. Buzzard - yesterday
2. Greenfinch - heard singing yesterday

Neither of these species was recorded today. Today's list continues therefore as:

3. Blackcap - heard singing
4. Lesser Black-backed Gull
5. House Sparrow
6. Collared Dove
7. Carrion Crow
8. Nuthatch
9. Wren
10. Blackbird
11. Starling
12. Goldfinch
13. Magpie
14. Blue Tit
15. Robin
16. Woodpigeon
17. Greylag Goose - heard calling as they flew over
18. Great Tit
19. Jackdaw - a party of 25 flying over was more than usual
20. Dunnock
21. Feral Pigeon
22. Sparrowhawk
23. Stock Dove - two flying over
24. Coal Tit
25. Chaffinch

Dunnock

The birds featured above are generally the species which occur regularly in or over the garden, the scarcest probably being the Blackcap and the Stock Doves. I will not be producing a full list for each half week, but will only add additions to the tally.

I suspect that invertebrates will feature much more heavily in future. It just so happened that I only recorded one species of butterfly yesterday (and none today) as the weather turned colder. So the butterfly list is:

1. Peacock

You're likely to get sick of looking at moth photos over the next few weeks, but last night the trap produced only two moths of a single species which I had already caught this year, pre-lockdown, so I didn't bother to photograph them.

The lockdown moth list is thus:

1. Common Quaker

Other groups occur, but I'm not going to go into any detail about flies, bees, spiders, worms, slugs etc because I don't really know enough about them.

I did record one mammal:

1. Grey Squirrel

Bloody things.

So that's your lot for now. Until the moth trap starts producing, future posts should be more concise.

Keep safe.

Mixed messages

I really enjoyed birding at Morton Bagot yesterday.

Today, it seems I was in the wrong. The advice on the news this morning (if it was out there yesterday I must have missed it) is that no one is allowed to leave their homes for non-essential journeys. Birding counts as non-essential.

The reason I went birding was that on Tuesday I had seen a Government spokesman saying it was OK to go to the countryside and walk around. I didn't hear anything about time restrictions. I checked the Heart of England Forest website (most of the land at Morton Bagot is owned by HOEF) and it said their land was open to visitors.

The irony is that I'm absolutely certain that by visiting Morton Bagot I was putting no one in danger, and that I am at far more risk going on my weekly shop, or visiting the newsagent than wandering around Morton Bagot on my own.

But above all, I feel guilty for enjoying myself in the field when (almost) everyone else is sticking to their gardens and making the best of it.

So that's what I'll be doing in future. I'll be Morton Bagot Birder in name only for the foreseeable future.

The garden list starts today.

Thursday March 26 - waders at last (and a good moth)

This morning I went to Morton Bagot for my permissible walk in the countryside. Apart from seeing a few folk at the horse barns when I got back to Netherstead, the self-isolation was complete.

It was another sunny morning, and eventually became almost warm. The visit got off to a good start when I heard a snatch of Blackcap song from the hedge by the horse pasture. Unfortunately the bird failed to repeat the burst of song or to show itself. The field contained at least 23 Fieldfares, a Redwing, 17 Meadow Pipits, and 19 Starlings. Later in the day about 50 - 60 thrush-sized birds flew out, and looked to be mostly Fieldfares so my original count is likely to be an underestimate.

Chiffchaffs were well in evidence, and I had logged at least nine by the time I completed the circuit.

Chiffchaff

As the sun came up I started to see butterflies quite regularly, and eventually recorded three Peacocks, and six Small Tortoiseshells. The only Brimstone was seen as I headed home. So in terms of species Morton Bagot was no more diverse than our garden.

Peacock

I reached the pool field and discovered that a pair of Mute Swans have arrived, the first of the year. Shortly afterwards a Little Egret flew in and joined the swans on the small top pool.

Mute Swans

Little Egret

It makes a nice change to see the egret at reasonably close quarters, and it reminds me that Mike Inskip was here on Saturday and saw two Little Egrets in the flash field, whereas I had drawn a blank.

Moving on to the flash field, I was pleased to find plenty of birds. To begin with, at least 40 Snipe erupted from the centre of the field and soon pitched down to disappear among the sedges. I could see at least 15 Teal, mainly on the furthest flash, but all the action was on the nearest flash. A Redshank started proceedings off by flying across and landing at the far side near the Snipe.

Redshank

I hadn't noticed at the time, but if you zoom in on the photograph you'll see that it has a BTO metal ring on its left leg. I wonder where it acquired it?

Shortly afterwards I saw that the two Little Ringed Plovers were present again, and then spotted the first Green Sandpiper of the year. I normally see them from the end of January, so I'm very pleased one has finally arrived.

Green Sandpiper

Unfortunately it chose to remain at the very back of the flash. A quick scan failed to record any grebes, but as it happened I returned to investigate an odd wader call (could have been anything) and instead discovered there were now two Little Grebes present.

Little Grebes

At the Kingfisher Pool there was no sign of the Kingfisher Dave and I saw on Sunday, but I was very taken by the catkins dangling from the large tree behind the pool. Botany is not a strong subject for me, but I have subsequently worked out that the tree is either a Black Poplar or a hybrid Poplar.

The catkins

The tree

I carried on along the Morton Brook, pausing to photograph a Small Tortoiseshell before reaching Stapenhill Wood.

Small Tortoiseshell

Generally my visits peter out after this point, but today something special was in store. As I walked around the ridge field flushing one or two more butterflies, I kicked up a smaller one. In fact, I quickly realised it was a moth. I guessed what it would be (although I couldn't remember the name at first). It landed on a dock (or something) and drooped there long enough for me to get a record shot of the moth in question, an Orange Underwing.

Orange Underwing

My intention had been to study the moth properly and to try for a better image. But by the time I looked again it had gone. I spent the next twenty minutes in a futile attempt to find it.

The problem is that there are two very similar species in Warwickshire. One is locally distributed, and the other, Light Orange Underwing, a good deal rarer. I believe I can see a diagnostic orange indentation into the dark surround of the left underwing (as you look at the moth) which identifies this as the commoner species. Also, although both are day-flying in March and April, Orange Underwing is associated with birch (there are plenty in the ridge field) and Light Orange Underwing with aspen (absent as far as I know).

I do not know whether Orang Underwing has been recorded here before, but I certainly haven't seen one here, or anywhere else before.

So there you are, an excellent way to self isolate and keep ticking over.

Still being good - exploring the garden

This won't last, but for now I am sticking to the garden.

The birding highlight, I suppose, was counting three pairs of Buzzards circling overhead at around 11.00, with possibly a seventh bird floating in from the south.

The local House Sparrows are much happier when I am not in the garden.

House Sparrow

No new butterflies appeared, so I was forced to look at bees. I find photographing bees extremely tricky because they are so busy, as they should be.

Red Mason Bees are attracted to the Rosemary outside the kitchen window, and today I also recorded a Common Carder Bee, and what I suspect was a male Hairy-footed Flower Bee, although that one wouldn't keep still.

Red Mason Bee

Probably a Hairy-footed Flower Bee

Another familiar garden resident to turn up today was a Dark-edged Bee Fly. This parasitic species is bad news for the local solitary bees, but a very nice looking creature.

Dark-edged Bee Fly

The self-isolating ended when I was obliged to go shopping. Waitrose in Alcester being particularly well organised I thought.

Self-isolating at home - Water Carpet

Events surrounding Covid-19 continue the spiral downwards to potential oblivion. It's very frightening if you are a 60 year-old with underlying health issues, which I am.

I am probably still ok to visit the patch, but in the meantime I'm determined to make the best of wildlife watching in the garden.

Birdwise our garden in Redditch is a bit of a waste of space. The feeders attract the usual suspects; House Sparrows. Goldfinches, Blue Tits, Robins etc. The best bet seems to be scanning the skies, but today these included nothing better than Buzzards, Sparrowhawk, and Cormorant.

The insects are a bit more fun. Today I recorded three butterflies; Small Tortoiseshell, Brimstone, and Peacocks.

Peacock

The smaller things are largely a bit too tricky, but bees are often identifiable to species; Tree Bumblebee, Red Mason Bee, and Early Bumblebee were new this week. On the other hand spiders, such as this one which was probably clinging to my lawnmower when I gave it its first run out today, are usually unidentifiable without dissection.

Wolf Spider sp

I think it was a species of Wolf Spider.

The most fun (if you don't own a NocMig recorder for night migrant birds) can be had from moths. You need a moth trap for best results, but ironically this evening a moth was attracted to the kitchen window. I popped out to pot it, and was stunned to see a very impressive moth. In fact a lifer - a Water Carpet.

Water Carpet

The books say this moth flies in April and May, but moths don't read books. OK Water Carpet is not rare, but after two years of trapping regularly in the garden I have never caught one.

Right now I don't feel too bad about staying in the garden.

Sunday March 22

Another sunny day, the easterly breeze now much less strong. Dave turned up and we walked around the patch observing the necessary social distancing throughout.

Several Chiffchaffs sang, and the rally driver was having the morning off. All seemed serene until we got to the flash field and I reached for my camera to have a go at a Long-tailed Tit. Out of battery, my camera said.

Its a strange thing. I managed to birdwatch for thirty years quite contentedly with binoculars, telescope, and notebook. Then the digital age arrived and therefore a succession of cameras and this blog. So now I'm not so content, in fact I'm downright grumpy for the rest of the morning. Obviously not to the extent of not looking at birds, but definitely a feeling that whether we saw anything or not mattered less. I'm clearly hooked.

We relocated the Little Grebe, but not the Little Ringed Plovers. The pair of Shelduck flew in, and a few Teal and Snipe were seen.

Then we heard a Kingfisher. It might not seem much, but I'll add a little context. The species regularly appears from about July, then rarely into late autumn. I once recorded one here in January, but never before between February and July. Dave back-tracked in the hope of persuading the bird to show. It was, appropriately enough, on the Kingfisher Pool. He was somewhat successful, seeing a streak of blue and orange when he flushed it. It landed right in front of me, before taking off and heading away across the field. Oh for a working camera!

The incident evidently affected my mental health because after seeing little else I then called Dave over to see a huge bird, er Stork or Crane, err oh! A light aircraft heading our way.

Perhaps I should stick to moths.

Saturday March 21

After a week of self isolating (sort of) Me, Lyn, and the bloke working on our kitchen, I was going a bit stir crazy by last night. Despite the temperature plunging overnight the trap went out and I caught precisely one moth. At least it was a Small Quaker, new for the year.

Small Quaker

This morning dawned bright and sunny, but rather chilly with a fresh easterly, so I decided to head for Morton Bagot.

People seen: seven. Rather crowded for the patch. One of them was even another birder, Mark Islip. Annoying local using the track as a rally course: One car (two people).
Aeroplanes: Two (I thought they'd all stopped flying).

Birds: Much better than recently. At least five Chiffchaffs, were singing, but the main action was at the flash field. Initially it all seemed similar to usual; 21 Teal, 19 Lesser Black-backed Gulls, two Black-headed Gulls, a Snipe, and six Lapwings. However, things started to improve as I walked along the footpath and looked again from another angle. A Little Grebe was bobbing up and down in front of the rushes. I called Mark over and we then disturbed another dozen of so Snipe which flew across the flash.

I then moved on to where I stood a chance of relocating the Little Grebe.

Little Grebe

After a while I heard a faint "peep"  call. It reminded me of LRP. The calls resumed periodically, and finally I spotted a pair of Little Ringed Plovers on one of the few patches of mud surrounding the nearest flash.

Little Ringed Plover

Presumably they had just flown in.

The remainder of the circuit was quite quiet. There were four Fieldfares, and three Meadow Pipits on the very muddy horse pasture, but no Wheatears. However back at my car one final good bird appeared. A Red Kite was drifting low over the landscape far to the west. I tried to take a record shot, but the situation was complicated by several Common Buzzards in the same area. The one focused shot may be of the Red Kite (but it just might be one of the Buzzards).

The dot

Jenny from Alvecote would be proud.

Sunday March 15 - a waiting game

The weather forecast looked grim last night, and Dave made an early decision to go to Marsh Lane. I decided to sit it out on the understanding that the rain would clear by late morning.

The time duly arrived and it did seem as though the worst was over so I set out. But it was not to be, and after an hour of waiting for a break in drizzle which seemed thoroughly set in, I decided to go home. My only highlight at Netherstead being a calling Grey Wagtail which I didn't see.

However, by 15.00 it really did seem to be drier and brighter so I returned. Aware that other sites had recorded a few Sand Martins and Chiffchaffs, I scrutinised any likely spot for an early Wheatear. There were none, but the Linnet flock seems to have been more robust than in recent years, and a flock of about 60 were present.

The flash field contained a Little Egret, two Shelducks, 14 Teal, six Lapwings, and eight Snipe. So still no new waders. I fear that the encroaching sedge is acting as a deterrent, although the high water-levels probably don't help either.

It was a good afternoon for seeing mammals. A Fox, at least three Muntjac, a Brown Hare, and five Roe Deer all did their best to entertain.

Frisky Roe Deer

Spring really is just around the corner, and to prove it a Chiffchaff burst into song in Stapenhill Wood. it may of course be the bird that was calling in the same spot in February, but I am happy to consider it a newly arrived migrant anyway.

Towards the end of the visit another storm seemed to be brewing, so I just had a quick count of the 24 Meadow Pipits gathering on wires above the ridge field before heading home.

Black over Bill's mother's.

Some garden moths

Well I don't have to self isolate yet, but in these uncertain times it could happen.

At least I'll have moth trapping to fall back on. Last night I caught seven moths as follows:

Common Quaker 4
Hebrew Character 1
Clouded Drab 1  new for year (nfy)
Satellite 1 new for garden (nfg)

Although Satellite is new for the garden, it is not a lifer. I once saw one in Birmingham City Centre on the side of Selfridges.

Satellite

Clouded Drab

The name Satellite comes from the two tiny white dots next to the big white dot on the wing. You will need to zoom in to see them.

Wednesday March 11

Mostly cloudy with a few sunny intervals and a light westerly.

My camera was fully charged and I was feeling fully recovered from my tummy bug, so today was much more enjoyable than my last visit.

I didn't see much, but it didn't bother me. The highlight was a party of five Stonechats in the ridge field, a sure sign of early spring.

One of the Stonechats

The Shelducks are still present, and at least nine Teal weaved in and out of the juncus on the nearest flash. Still no waders (other than Lapwings) though.

A Grey Heron flew over at Netherstead, the shot being photo-bombed by a Blue Tit, while two more Grey herons at the flash field included one with the bright orange bill of breeding plumage.

Grey Heron and Blue Tit

Mammals included a Fox and five Hares (sounds like a pub sign), while a few insects were on the wing, including a Honey Bee.

Honey Bee

I'm still waiting for my first butterfly of the year though.

Sunday March 8

I was very tempted to skip writing about my visit today. There are only so many ways of saying I went birding, I saw very little, I went home.

But actually in its sheer direness this morning was worth writing about. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Let's start with last night. My email pinged with a message from Mike Lane attaching a photo from a Morton Bagot resident I know and like well. The photo was of a female Sparrowhawk devouring a Feral Pigeon (or racing pigeon) on his lawn. I understood that the observer wanted me to call in. I guessed what this would be about.

Scroll forward to this morning. Dave was unable to attend due to ill health (not coronavirus I am assured), so I set off, returning 15 minutes later after forgetting my phone. It was a sunny, though windy morning so I chose to wear a light flimsy summer coat.

I walked along the road intending to call in about the Sparrowhawk, when Mike L happened along. As I suspected he had given his opinion that the bird was a Sparrowhawk, but the photographer wasn't convinced it was not a Peregrine. He believes he sees Peregrines frequently; on telegraph poles, on trees, on wires.

Anyway, he was out, so no awkward conversations were required.

About half an hour into my circuit I noticed that my camera was nearly out of battery. This meant having to save it for that heart-stopping rarity that never comes.

The birding highlight of the day flew over, a Siskin. Actually, a Mistle Thrush was singing its mournful song, so that was quite nice (but I couldn't see that either).

As I approached the flash field I realised two things, a large dark cloud was approaching fast, and, well let's just say I had a tummy ache.

So after seeing two Shelduck and two Wigeon I turned on my heels and almost, but not quite, got back to my car without getting soaked.

A day to forget.

Friday March 6

A bright sunny morning for a change, but the early frost was a reminder that it isn't really spring yet. The birds on offer were the usual suspects, although there was more song from the likes of Chaffinches, Skylarks, and Reed Buntings.

Reed Bunting

A single Greenfinch was visible singing at Netherstead, the first I have set eyes on here this year. I decided to pick my way through the marsh, but only recorded eight Snipe and one Jack Snipe.

Down at the flash field the Little Owl was visible for a change, but apart from that I counted just 26 Teal, two Wigeon, four Lapwings, two Shelduck, and a few Mallard, Geese, and Coots. A flock of 140 thrushes heading north-east were too distant to figure out how many were Fieldfares, and how many Redwings.

Little Owl

Very few insects were on the wing, just one or two bees and a few midges. The latter were being picked off by a couple of Goldcrests.

Goldcrest

The mammal list comprised one or two Muntjacs and a Fox.

PS: My garden moth trap yielded two moths over night; Hebrew Character and Common Quaker. Neither was new for the year, but as this was only the second trapping session to produce anything at all this year I am quite satisfied that the effort was worthwhile.

Sunday March 1

Sunny with a light north-westerly.

I arrived half an hour earlier than usual and had not got far from the car before things started to get tricky. Looking west I could see a couple of large gulls floating south in the distance. Then a small gull appeared, flying in the opposite direction. A Black-headed Gull was my first thought, but it looked very white and I began to wonder whether it could actually be a Little Egret. It was very low and kept disappearing behind a hedge in the foreground. Then it reappeared and I realised it had a black head, so a gull and not an egret. The head appeared jet black and I realised it could be an adult Med Gull...at last. The hedge intervened again, but the gull seemed to be losing height. I was sure it would end up on the flash field.

While I waited for Dave I checked the paddocks, counting 40 Redwings, and 36 Fieldfares. I moved up the slope to the track overlooking the landscape to the north and erected my scope. As I waited, I pondered on the gull. Should I call it or ditch it? I knew that if I claimed it there would always be a doubt in the back of my mind. Did I see it well enough? Were the wings really white? Was the head really jet black? I also knew that if I ditched it, I would always suspect I was far too cautious. Such is birding.

Dave arrived and took no persuading to join me in a route march straight to the flash field. Fifteen minutes later we were surveying not the expected field full of gulls, but an empty flash barring a Little Egret, two Shelducks, and a few Teal and Mallards. So annoying.

We tracked back along the Morton Brook, and flushed a pair of Stonechats which bizarrely flew up to the higher branches of a huge Ash. Shortly afterwards we found some gulls. Sadly they were all large gulls.

We needed a plan, and decided to walk to the road and swing back around in a large circle. This produced two Stonechats in the chat field, and a few more Teal in the flash field (but still only ten). More large gulls flew in and we counted 80 Lesser Black-backed Gulls, and eight Herring Gulls. We kicked up the original two Stonechats again, so there were definitely four in total, and we reckon these two were migrants.

Stonechat

The field beyond Stapenhill Wood contained three smalls gulls with the large gulls. They were Black-headed Gulls but had winter-plumage heads. In the distance a massive flock of Starlings, we reckoned about 500 of them, hurried north.

So, the morning ended in frustration. The wait for a Med Gull here goes on.