Anti-Social Birding

Sunny Sunday mornings present the problem of where to go birding in the crowded isle that is The United Kingdom - 60 million and rising daily thanks to our useless politicians and the EU. Oops, that broke a rule of “no politics” on Another Bird Blog but I made an exception for this topic as all the political parties are equally guilty. 

So, where to go? There was a Great Grey Shrike to chase 10 or so miles away, or alternatively set off on a real life wild goose chase to find the Snow Goose spotted recently amongst the thousands of Pink-footed Geese out on the Pilling mosslands. 

But then there would be dozens of birders about looking either for or at the same things, even though to me birding is best served and appreciated not in gangs but singly or in twos and threes only. And anyway a Snow Goose isn’t exactly rare and when you’ve seen one you have seen them all. Likewise, members of the grey shrike complex are easily come by in the Canary Islands so I will wait until January in Lanzarote to see Desert Grey Shrikes again. 

Snow Geese - Photo credit: A Vernon- Foter / CC BY-NC-SA

Desert Grey Shrike 

So I headed inland for a walk and across the moss of Out Rawcliffe, one of the largest parishes in England and one which thankfully is usually quiet and peaceful if a little breezy today.

Out Rawcliffe

After recent rain there was a good mix of birds on a particularly flooded field - 40 or more Black-headed Gulls, 16+ Pied Wagtails, 14+ Meadow Pipits and 2 Green Sandpipers. Naturally the sandpipers flew off calling but with so many flashes of water in the sodden fields they won’t be far away and pipits and wagtails are always worth a look. 

Pied Wagtail

Along a couple of hedgerows there was a good mix of farmland birds - 35 Tree Sparrow, 18+ Chaffinch, 8 Goldfinch, 4 Linnet, 2 Yellowhammer, 2 Reed Bunting and 2 Corn Bunting. With so many small birds in the immediate area it was no surprise to see a Merlin dash low across the landscape, the falcon sighting followed quickly by a Sparrowhawk heading in the opposite direction. 

Sparrowhawk

Three Roe Deer stood ahead of me, spotted my approach and broke into a run, scattering the hundreds of Jackdaws and crows feeding in the stubble. In the woodland - 4 Buzzards, more Chaffinches, and at least one noisy Jay. The Chaffinches were fairly numerous and also vocal with almost constant chippy contact calls that pointed to their being on the move south and west, a scenario far from unknown in early November when some might imagine migration to be done. 

Roe Deer

Maybe the warm and fine morning made the Buzzards active, so after being concerned about the lack of sightings of the species lately, I actually saw a more reasonable number in my three hours of birding. On the way back home via Pilling and Stalmine mosses I clocked up 2 more pairs of Buzzards to add to the four birds seen at Out Rawcliffe. If there is one Buzzard about, there is almost certainly another one close by as pairs mate for life.

However there are still local places where Buzzards appear to have gone missing, so all bird watchers need to know their own local patch and to remain vigilant. 

Buzzard

Other birds over the moss roads - 1 Kestrel, 8 Stock Dove, 6 Pied Wagtail, 90+ Linnet and 20 or more flighty Goldfinch. 

A very enjoyable morning and guess what? I didn’t see any other birders but did wonder where many might be on such a fine morning for birding.

Linking today to  Stewart's World Bird Wednesday.

Snow Joke

Half the country at a standstill because of a few inches of snow and even here in the Fylde part of Lancashire UK where normally we escape it all, we have lying snow with the promise of more to come, icy roads and temperatures of minus 6 degrees.

It’s just a bit of an excuse or tenuous link to devote a post here to Snow Geese, even though in the UK we might see one or two a year of the global millions. The other night I watched Gordon “F Word” Ramsay on the telly. You know, he’s the bloke that is a bag of nerves and jumps up and down like a demented frog. He seems to be a reasonable chef; although where other worldly things are concerned I just think he comes across as a complete Philistine and more than a bit of a prat. He also plays up to the comic book image of a Super Hero, whether by fishing for goose barnacles in Spain, fleyging for Puffin in Iceland, or just lately jetting off to Canada to shoot Snow Geese. He was disappointed that in Canada any Snow Geese shot are for personal consumption rather than cooking up for commercial gain in overpriced restaurants or selling on in the local butchery. But then maybe he’s never heard of the tale of the North American Passenger Pigeon?

It just happens that one of my favourite books is The Snow Geese by William Fiennes, a quite beautifully written description of the author’s travels north in spring from Texas to Canada with the migrating Snow Geese.

Here’s a passage from the book:

“Excited, I began walking north along the track of dry dust and stones that ran the few miles from the refuge entrance to Houghton Dam. Thickets of cattail rushes and phragmites made a golden rind round the lake, stems clamped in ice at the shins or ankles, the cattail tipped with stiff brown seed heads like fat cigars. Sometimes pickups driven by hunters wearing camouflage cruised past me on the dirt track, each vehicle’s slipstream agitating the cattail and phrags. The yapping thickened to a drone. I passed a small farm, then rounded a headland, walking faster and faster towards the source of the noise. Snow Geese came into view like a kept promise. Thousands of white-phase and blue-phase birds were huddled on the ice in the middle of the lake, a huge white almond-shaped spread tapering to a point at its north and south ends. The birds’ heads were raised high, their necks extended perpendicular to the ice. Close to, the flock’s gabble was a wild encompassing din, the birds’ calls travelling through the ice like marbles rolling on metal. I stood still, breathing deeply, half hidden by cattail”.



“.....there was a commotion in the flock. The calls of the geese grew louder, more urgent. Suddenly, as if detonated, the flock took wing. Thirty thousand geese lifted off the ice in front of us, wing beats drumming the air, goose yelps gathering to a pounding metallic yammer, the sound of steel being hammered on anvils, in caverns. The ice thrummed and sang with it. The exploded flock filled our field of vision, a blizzard of birds. Most of the geese flew low in circles, but some settled back on the ice almost immediately, while others continued to gain height. Drifts of geese passed through, behind and across other drifts of geese; the flocks kept wheeling round and round, swirling with eddies and countermotions, a salt-and-pepper chaos of white wing backs catching the sunlight. Whole swatches of the flock went dark when birds flew side-on, and swatches flashed white when they banked or veered, breasting the light. Then slowly, goose by goose, the flock settled again; the almond shape reformed; the extravagant din dwindled; the steady flock drone resumed. For a moment, I had forgotten to breathe”.

Although I am not in the business of reviewing books I heartily recommend this one as a great book to read on a wet winter day when there’s no birding. Alternatively, take it on holiday and read on a sun bed while dreaming about the autumn birds that await back home.

And Gordon, don’t become a joke, stick to cooking, less of the Action Man and leave our birds alone.