I can never quite decide whether I like this time of the year or not. It feels like the season is on the top of a slide, a marble slowly inching forward, then gently gathering pace before plunging through April and losing velocity through May until by June it's all over.
But this morning, a sunny morning in February, I definitely love the anticipation of all that is to follow. I'm searching for new arrivals, and at the pool I find five Tufted Ducks. It's a start.
Tufted Ducks
The pool is already starting to lose its water, but there is enough to keep the Tufties happy, and also a Coot and the two young Mute Swans.
The real sense of anticipation comes with the first look at the flash field. A party of 19 Black-headed Gulls have returned, while the three Wigeon, and the pair of Shelducks are still occupying the furthest flash. Just four Lapwings are in residence, so it looks like their slow decline in breeding numbers will continue this year. A smattering of Teal are on the furthest flash, but more occupy the nearest one bringing the total up to 28. Several of the males are displaying, a further sign that spring is in the air.
I search in vain for any waders and am just about to give up, when one appears. The first Green Sandpiper of the yearflies in, calling. It pitches into the water by the rushes and starts swimming, before taking off and finding something sufficiently shallow at the back of the flash.
Green Sandpiper
Now it really feels spring-like. Treecreepers are singing from the alders bordering the the Morton Brook, and two Great Spotted Woodpeckers are drumming a duet as I reach Stapenhill Wood.
It's not really a duet. "This is my territory, keep off," is what they are actually saying. I hear three on the patch today.
A corner of the weedy field provides me with a handful of feeding Lesser Redpolls, Reed Buntings, and Linnets but the show is over for another day.
Events have conspired against us this week, and I only had time for a brief visit to see if I could find anything new.
The weather couldn't have been nicer, sunny with hardly a breath of wind. The late start meant that I soon became aware of a few bees buzzing past, and was pleased to see my first butterfly of the year. Unusually this was a Comma. Although this is an emerging hibernator, I can think of three other species which normally appear first.
Comma
As far as birds are concerned, I added three species to my year list, but it has to be said that they were pretty bog standard. They were; three Wigeon, a Coot, and a Cormorant. Unfortunately they managed to be respectively distant, hiding behind vegetation, and flying over (distantly) spoiling any chances of anything but miserably poor photos.
Also present in the flash field were two Shelducks, 34 Teal, 11 Mallard, two Canada Geese, a Snipe, three Lapwings, 10 Lesser Black-backed Gull, and a Herring Gull.
Wigeon and Teal
Cormorant
Further evidence of movement came from the complete absence of any Black-headed Gulls, and a reduction of Stonechats down to a single female.
A pair of Mistle Thrushes and a female Greenfinch back near the church were also noteworthy.
Earlier this week I put my moth trap out in the garden on the last mild evening (24 Feb), but it was probably too windy and I only caught one moth, a Hebrew Character.
After a very wet week the continuing mild weather left me optimistic that my search for early signs of spring might bear fruit. The cloudy skies and hint of rain in the air meant that insects would not be featuring, and apart from a few clumps of Snowdrops I didn't see any flowers either. So it would be down to birds again.
Aside from observing the gradual switching on of birdsong, my main emphasis in spring has always been bird migration. This morning a single Stonechat at the dragonfly pools was the forerunner of what was to be the main event of the day. Stonechats don't migrate far, the British upland population heads for the coast and some make it to France over the winter. This year, as is typical, a few found no reason to go any further than the Midlands, and at least four survived the freezing conditions at Morton Bagot through the first half of February.
As I approached the flash field I came across another five, and half an hour later these had moved to the pool field where their numbers had swelled to 16. After back-tracking in a failed attempt to find a Jack Snipe, I relocated the flock in the original weedy field. At least nine hopped from plant to plant over the ridge, and I then found that four had remained in the pool field. Walking south over the ridge field I found another four, so if the Dragonfly pool still held one I would have a new site record. There was no sign of it though, so I headed down to the south end in the hope one might be there. This move produced a flock of 80 Lesser Redpolls and 62 Linnets but no Stonechats. However, once back at the dragonfly pools I located three more Stonechats giving me a record count of 20 for the site.
Three of the Stonechats at the pool field
Migration doesn't only involve arriving birds. A flock of 70 Fieldfares heading north-east could reasonably be considered to be departing migrants.
Ironically the only new species for the year was not a migrant at all. Two immature Mute Swans flew onto the pool and spent a few minutes there. Clearly the lack of ice meant that waterfowl could reclaim the site.
Mute Swans
A large flock of Black-headed Gulls flew north in a v-formation before pitching down to investigate the pasture just over the hill behind the flashes. I am ever hopeful of finding a Mediterranean Gull in the flocks which can build up at the end of February, so my frustration that they had dropped out of sight was considerable. I was left with 16 Teal, 29 Lapwings, seven Snipe, and eight Mallard to look at.
Fortunately, an hour later they reappeared and landed on the furthest flash. Ten minutes later I realised they were all Black-headed Gulls. The best way to show them was to scan across the flock with the camera in video setting.
In a further bid to convince myself that spring was happening I counted singing birds on my circuit. It's too early in the year to start a breeding survey, but it was tempting to imagine that the singing Song Thrushes (four), Robins (eight), Chaffinches (five), Dunnocks (six), Wrens (six), Reed Buntings (four), and Skylarks (four) were all planning to remain through the summer.
As usual I saw plenty of Roe Deer (five) Muntjac (one) and several Hares across the site.
Roe Deer
I plan to put the moth trap out tonight, so hopefully I'll be able to get the mothing off the ground at last.
PS: I caught seven moths, managing to misidentify three of them before UK moth ID put me straight. They were as follows:
Oak Nycteoline 1 (nfg) - this was one of the cock ups
Chestnut 2 - I thought these were Dark Chestnuts (and to be fair even the expert wasn't certain)
Dotted Border - 1 (nfg)
Common Quaker - 2
March Moth - 1
Here are the photos of the two new ones and one of the controversial Chestnuts.
Oak Nycteoline (very worn)
Dotted Border
A "dark" Chestnut
A further photo of one of the Chestnuts taken in better light confirms that UKMothID knows more about these things than I do. Now there's a surprise !
Winter is over, it's official. Well it is as far as I'm concerned anyway. Temperatures had risen to 13 degrees by the time I set foot out of the house, positively balmy by recent standards.
So the new game is searching for spring. I find myself doing this every year, and usually from mid-February.
The most obvious sign is birdsong. The cold weather had suppressed it over the last week, so the singing Skylarks, Robins, and Dunnocks felt like true harbingers of spring (even though they had all been singing on milder days in January). Perhaps a singing Great Tit was a better indicator, and I also recorded a singing Linnet for the first time this year.
The Linnet
Not convinced? Ok let's consider insects. The bee-hives were abuzz with activity, and I saw several other "honey-bee types" in the hedgerow along the Morton Brook.
Back to birds. Buzzards were circling in typical fashion, marking out their territory for another year, but again you could argue they have been doing that for several weeks.
Common Buzzard soaring
My main hope was the flash field. However, the ponds and pools I walked past on the way all had at least some ice covering, and the same was true of the nearest flash. At least the furthest flash was ice-free and had been repopulated by 24 Teal, 21 Mallard, and a Little Egret, while 16 Lapwings were also still present. On the nearer flash a small party of Black-headed Gulls included one that had developed its summer-plumaged chocolate-brown head.
Black-headed Gulls
Grasping at straws now. At least my doom-laden comment in my last post about Stonechats was proved completely wrong. They haven't moved on (or died), and I found three in the weedy field followed by another at the dragonfly pools.
Stonechat - female
The sun shone throughout the visit, and although the evidence for it may be thin, spring is just around the corner.
Since my last visit it has got even colder. The snow which fell a few days ago still lies on north-facing slopes, and all the available water has frozen solid.
On the bright side it can't get any worse. From now on talk will be of the approaching spring. Not today though. It always amazes me that birds can find anything to eat in such icy conditions, but I was pleased to see several well stocked feeders at the Netherstead barns. A pair of Long-tailed Tits were gratefully dangling from fatballs in one garden.
Away from human habitation I found myself crunching around Stapenhill Wood hoping for a Woodcock. There were none, but I did hear a Jay and was entertained by a couple of male Robins fighting over a patch of mud under the trees.
You can't beat a winter Robin
The rest of the landscape was classically wintry, and birds were in short supply.
Chilly
I wasn't surprised to find no Stonechats today, moved on (or passed away) perhaps. However, at least 100 Redwings, 25 Fieldfares, 30 Starlings, and 50 Lapwings were still toughing it out in the pasture bordering the Morton Brook.
The flashes were frozen, but I still saw a Snipe and a Grey Heron there. All the wildfowl had gone, although a single Greylag Goose circled in the hope that things might have changed.
Greylag Goose
Actually I could have been forgiven for staying in our garden today. The last few days had delivered a Fieldfare, back to eat the latest apple I had chucked out.
Fieldfare
But the highlight had come yesterday when a Red Kite had circled the garden, perhaps hunting discarded Big Macs, causing me to dash around the living room to grab my camera for a record shot.
Red Kite
I usually think of sightings of Red Kite as a harbinger of spring, but not this time.
It was bloody cold this afternoon. I almost didn't go to the patch today (foot again), but the painkillers were kicking in by midday and I set out out into the teeth of a eye-wateringly cold northerly wind.
Since my last visit, a couple of other birders have paid visits, with promising results. In particular, Neil Duggan flushed a Woodcock (on Feb 6 according to Birdtrack), and also counted 70 Lapwings and three Stonechats.
My chances of relocating the Woodcock were negligible, and sure enough I didn't find it. A few large gulls flew over, including a couple of Herring Gulls, but the main interest was provided by the flash field.
The Shelduck had been seen again on the 6th by Neil D, and it was still present this afternoon.
Shelduck
As usual, it is the male which is first back, no doubt staking out its territory in preparation for the arrival of its mate. Also present in the flash field were 29 Greylag Geese, 12 Mallard, 20 Teal, at least 53 Lapwings, and a couple of Snipe. Just beyond the field the Little Egret was still present.
Apart from this, the visit was mainly notable for the shortage of birds. At least 60 Redwings were at Netherstead, and one of the seed feeders at the barn conversion properties was busy with Blue and Great Tits.
For the next few days I'll be sticking to the garden.
A late start meant that my arrival at Morton Bagot this morning coincided with the onset of cloud and rain, but at least all the ice had gone.
The early signs were promising; 130 Black-headed Gulls, 35 Lapwings, six Snipe, 16 Teal, 11 Canada Geese, a Greylag Goose, 11 Mallard, and best of all the first Shelduck of the year. Normally I try to photograph new birds for the year, but today I played it too cool, counting the other wildfowl before looking up to see that the Shelduck had gone.
Once the rain arrived, my enthusiasm declined and it was left to a small party of a dozen Reed Buntings to keep me entertained. In theory it is always worth looking at buntings because rarer ones have been known to turn up. One male Reed Bunting did stand out from the rest by being unusually pallid, but I believe it was just an example of plumage variation.
A "greyish" Reed Bunting
A more typical orangey-brown Reed Bunting
The walk back took in a flock of 60 Linnets, but as usual most flew off before I could scope them.
