Saturday, 4 January 2014

January 1st - What a start to the year...

As my previous blog mentioned, the first day of the year is an exciting time and is eagerly awaited as an opportunity to start the new year's bird list. This Wednesday will certainly stick in the memory as an interesting start to the year - but not really for the reasons I had hoped.

Like all the best laid plans of mice and men, my intentions of getting up and being on the patch for first light fell by the wayside after having a couple of drinks too many whilst celebrating the arrival of the new year. The weather forecast for the day was no secret - it was meant to be awful. It appeared as though the weather gods were not going to be impressed with the fireworks that were to wake them when the clock struck midnight and had decided to wreak their revenge in the form of high winds and heavy rain - at least that is what the forecasters were predicting. In a rare bout of optimism however I thought that maybe they had got it wrong and I would wake to glorious sunshine.

As it happened, it seemed to be somewhere in between. I woke and it was already light - damn it - but the rain was not hammering the window and the trees were still standing. I headed straight out and I had one specific target in mind.

The great northern diver that I mentioned in the previous blog was, at least before darkness fell on the 31st, still present on Swan Pool and seeing as it was the first to be recorded in Sandwell Valley I thought it would be a nice way to start the 'year of the patch'. When I arrived I found a number of other birders and photographers were already present; clearly they had the same intention as me. The diver was performing in its usual manor. It gives amazing views for a tantalising few seconds but after gracefully descending below the waves it reappears on the other side of the lake - or sometimes it seems not to reappear at all!

The weather started to deteriorate almost as soon as I arrived at Swan Pool. The wind was beginning to pick up and those few drops of precipitation that were previously not a problem developed into much more of a persistent annoyance. As I set up the tripod to attempt to catch the diver on film, I was delighted to see two kingfishers fly out from the bank in front of me and straight across the lake. This was a massive bonus because, despite kingfishers being recorded every year in the Valley and regularly breeding in the area, they can be a pain to see. By this time the rain was becoming a problem and it was becoming increasingly apparent that birding in this weather would be difficult to say the least. Small birds don't like the rain and the wind so it would be a challenge to pin them down today.

Having set the tripod, I scanned the lake to see where the diver had got to. Panning across I saw an interesting 'rump' (not a phrase one often gets to use) disappear below the water. Shortly after, it surfaced. A black and white duck - but not the all-to-common tufted duck that is resident all year round in the Valley. This one has white sides with some delicate black markings on them and a white patch just behind its bill that glowed like beacon. A goldeneye!



Goldeneyes are annual visitors to the Valley and two or three birds are usually resident throughout the harsh winter months. However, it was particularly pleasing to see this male, and subsequently a female as well, because I had not seen one in the Valley as winter descended during the later stages of 2013. These ducks are strong little creatures and regularly spend time on the sea. It is when the cold winter sets in that they come inland and you can see sizeable gatherings of them on some of the larger reservoirs and lakes. They are a migratory species that travel north in the Spring and Summer months. There are a few pairs that breed in Scotland but many migrate much further into Scandinavia, Northern Russia and even Siberia.

With rain beginning to soak the camera the diver decided to make an appearance not too far from me. I quickly moved the tripod and filmed. I will let you be the judge of the resulting video but all I will say is that the water in Swan Pool does not flow up!


At some point during the day, the diver showed really wonderfully and another of the Valley patchworkers managed this fantastic photo.

Great Northern Diver - Sandwell Valley - Pete Hackett - Jan. 14
I walked around the rest of Swan Pool and had a look in the paddock area. The weather had clearly driven a lot of the regular smaller birds deep into the undergrowth. The softened ground proved good for some though when in one field I spotted a redwing feeding with some blackbirds. Then, like when you attune your eyes to an ant, more and more became apparent. After I cleared the rain off my glasses and binoculars, another look showed the ground was alive with redwings. A rough count showed there to be well over 100 all furiously feeding in the soft ground.

With glasses becoming an increasingly untenable solution to my poor vision due to the rain, I had to beat a hasty retreat to the car. I drove to the RSPB end of the Valley and popped into the centre to exchange New Year's greetings and with a slight hope that the rain would ease - it didn't!

I braved the weather one final time to walk around Forge Mill Lake. After the camera trauma of Swan Pool combined with rain, I decided to leave the camera behind to avoid any potential breakages. Now as all photographers know, there is an annoying paradigm showing that when you don't have your camera, you get an opportunity for an amazing photograph. Sod's law again prevailed and after not seeing much in the rain some of the Valley's ring-necked parakeets landed in a tree no more than 5 metres ahead of me. One of the best views I've had of this non-native species that seems to be spreading rapidly in the Valley. With this in mind, I'm sure photographic opportunities will only become more frequent.

The walk around the rest of the lake produced all the other regular lake orientated species that I'm sure I'll talk about in more detail in subsequent blogs but, as predicted, the small birds were conspicuous by their absence because of the rain. Approaching the car, the rain finally breached the final defences and soaked through my trousers. Home time and I would be back in time for lunch - not what I had in mind.

I was hoping to finish the day with a list as long as my arm of bird species that I had seen around my patch but the weather certainly put pay to those hopes. I saw just over 40 species when I had hoped for 60 or more. At least this leaves plenty of bird finding enjoyment for the subsequent visits.

Thursday, 2 January 2014

2014 - The Year of the Patch...

It is a New Year!

With a flurry of fireworks and the intake of disproportionate amounts of alcohol (the British way apparently) it is the 1st of January, an exciting time for birdwatchers the length and breadth of the country. At this point, a question arises. Do birdwatchers across the world get the same excitement from the New Year?

To us Brits the new year brings the excitement of a new list; in this case a 2014 list! For many it seems New Year's Eve is a time for planning the following days and months of birding to give yourself the best possible chance to get the most impressive list of species seen in that year. Please do not think this is me being high and mighty about the situation. If it wasn't for my wonderful girlfriend insisting I have a social life, I would in all likelihood be doing the same. As it happens, with time to spare this evening, I'm now doing it. Dreaming of trips to the highlands for those speciality ticks. Thinking of when it would be best to visit the woodlands of Mid-Wales to get cripplingly good views of some of the summer visitors. Telling myself that a trip to the Farne Islands is an essential part of my 'life experience' and not just an excuse to tick some breeding sea birds.

Pied Flycatcher - Gilfach Farm - Mike Ixer - May 2013

So to revert to my previous question, do people in other countries derive this same pleasure from 'collecting' ticks? Or is it, as the now infamous BBC documentary implies, a very British obsession? It is not a question I'm in a position to answer but any views would be much appreciated.

Anyway, this year I've decided to take part in the patchwork challenge - a competition between birdwatchers to see who can see, and more importantly find, a combination of the most and rarest species on their patch. Now, without wishing to patronise but I realise I have some non-birdwatchers who read this, a patch is an area that a birdwatcher basically calls 'home'. It is usually a manageable size (the competition states no more than 3 square kilometres) and it is where you make regular visits. You get to know the way the seasons affect it and you know where and when you can find certain birds. So this year, as the blog title implies, is going to be my 'year of the patch'.

"So where is your patch?" I hear you cry (metaphorically). Well, as previous blogs have hinted (may be even stated) Sandwell Valley is where I do the majority of my birding. It is a good site that has, over the years, been tarnished by some erroneous reports that have led people to loose confidence and not believe any reports of birds that have been seen. It has a mix of habitat including plenty of water, the life blood of the birding world. A patch without water would be a kin to a hospital without an A & E department. You would have your long-staying residents but there would be no regular turnover, no chance of regular fresh arrivals, just the same things you always see. Unfortunately, the massive problem with Sandwell Valley as a patch is the number of people who use it and the variety of activities that occur there (both encouraged and shady). This results in a lot of disturbance and therefore birds either don't stick around for very long or don't stop in the first place. However, that said every year (almost without fail) over 100 different species of birds are recorded.

Sandwell Valley - Google Maps

I generally stick to the east side of the M5 with Forge Mill Lake getting most of my attention and regular walks to Swan Pool and around the paddocks and woods there. In 2013 I managed to see 108 species around the Valley despite missing a number that stopped for only a day. The Valley as a whole acts as a sort of service station for migrating birds. When flying over they see the lakes and fields as a good opportunity to stop, rest and feed ready to potentially fly hundreds more miles. For this reason a lot of birds do only stop for a short period, often just a day, before continuing their journey. Last year there were some real surprises when some excellent birds were seen. Firsts for the Valley included an avocet (which I missed), a ruddy shelduck (which I missed) and a great northern diver (which I saw).

Great Northern Diver - Sandwell Valley - Mike Ixer - Dec. 2013

Also, some birds that have been seen before but are equally impressive - a bittern (which I saw) and a spoonbill (which I found!).

Bittern - Sandwell Valley - Mike Ixer - Oct. 2013

So my attentions are turned to 2014. What will we see this year? 'We' of course refers to the regular birdwatchers who also use Sandwell Valley as their patch and a fine bunch they are too. If I was forced to make a prediction about the next new species for the Valley that could potentially appear this year I would have to go for either great white egret or glossy ibis. Both species have featured a lot around the country in 2013 and both have been seen within spitting distance of the Valley - but we shall have to see. There has also been some fairly extensive work completed by the RSPB remodelling their island and improving their marsh. Taking this into account it could be a good year for wading birds and we could possibly record some more of these than usual.

All of this talk of the new year and the Patchwork Challenge has got me excited about the possibilities for this year. Fingers crossed for a good one...

Tuesday, 29 October 2013

A view from the air - part 2...

I'm currently sitting on a Boeing 737-800 flying at x-many thousand feet on my way to see the wonderful Bethany Hammond whom I haven't seen for over 5 weeks. Again I've been lucky with the weather - if I had been travelling a day earlier I would have had to battle through 80+ mph winds but as it happens there are but a few clouds in the sky. This has allowed me to again indulge in what, in my geography geeky/childish opinion, is the best possible use of time whilst on a plane - taking photos out of the window. So here they are:

Waiting to take off at London Stansted.

Some shots of a beautifully green looking England just after take-off.

 

Just breaking through what little cloud was there.

A slightly larger bank of cloud that interrupted any further photo opportunities until we reached the channel.

Flying out of England over what I think might be Poole and Brownsea Island.

Some funny lumpy clouds turning into whispy clouds over the English Channel.

Then we flew over the Channel Islands (fairly obscured by cloud).

 

Next point of interest was the north coast of France.

Then this strange long, thin lake in France that I must try to identify at some point.

As quick as we arrived over France we were leaving again over the Bay of Biscay.

The Bay was large and, to be quite honest, boring so there's no photos of that. Next, the north coast of Spain with frustratingly large amounts of cloud.

The north coast cloud begins to break.

And I'm left with uninterrupted views for hundreds of miles over Spain.

Hitting another bank of cloud.

This cloud subsequently cleared and I was left with clear views all the way to landing.

This is the amazing natural ridge that I saw when I was flying home last time.

And finally landed at Madrid airport.

 

Monday, 23 September 2013

A view from the air...

So I'm sat on a plane returning from an incredibly sad goodbye with my beautiful girlfriend. I have however found a way of distracting myself. I've been taking pictures out of the window of the plane.

 

I forgot the joys of travelling through clear daytime skies in an aeroplane. The views are truly stunning and it is a great game to play 'guess what part of the world your flying over now'. So, without further ramblings, here are some pictures from a plane.

Madrid airport...

Shortly after take off...
 

 

Some views of Spain as we climbed...

 

 

I was fascinated by the natural plateau in that last one.

As we climbed into the clouds (not that there were many)...

 

Looking from a plane at the plains in Spain...

 

As we got to cruising altitude...

 

Heading into the Bay of Biscay (I think)...

 

Over France...

 

A large amount of cloud hiding the the English Channel and England...

 

A strange 'lake' in the mass of cloud...

 

 

Never ending cloud...

The descent (and subsequent pressure changes) plays havoc with my bottle (no wonder my ears are popping!)...

A break in the cloud as we descend towards Stansted, am I going to be lucky with a clear landing? I'm literally writing this live in the air so I have no idea!

A peak of England through the cloud...

England basking in Sunday evening sunshine...

 

We have banked round in preparation of landing. Photo fun over..

Stansted airport in the evening...

Home now so I can publish this blog!