Pilling Post

Just a quickie this afternoon following a flying visit to Lane Ends in the late afternoon.

Over 110 Whooper Swans came from the south, flying over Pilling village to roost on the marsh. As there were already the usual gang of 20+ out there, my total came to 130. Also out there were approximately 2300 Pink-footed Geese with 2 Barnacle Geese. More than a 1000 Lapwing were beaten up by a male Peregrine.

Red Sky in The Morning, Shepherd's Warning

We should have put our trust in the old saying above rather than place our faith in old Auntie BBC again. It continued raining overnight, until a lot later than expected but the sky seemed fairly bright at 0645 and maybe the rain went elsewhere, over the other side of the Pennines to spoil a Yorkshire man’s day?

So the nets were up in plenty of time for us to have a leisurely coffee before the first net round, as in the darkness a dozen Redwings sighed overhead and a Song Thrush called. A Barn Owl was up, hunting for breakfast, ghosting over the stubble but disappearing in the half light towards a wood on the next farm. In the direction of the nets in the plantation, a couple of Tawny Owls called, and further away another one in the birch wood, but pity, we didn’t actually see or catch any of them.

Just as the first Redwing came out of a bird bag for ringing, we both felt the first spot of rain but weren’t too concerned as the forecast was for a good, dry day, meanwhile out to the east the orange sun split open the grey lines of cloud. We caught a perfectly brown Blackbird with a new tail, watched a handful of passing Redwing and looked forward to the waves of thrushes to follow, a bit of counting and lots of ringing.







But then as we watched the clouds close in and felt the rain change to a steady drizzle we realised the relevant saying this morning might be “Sun in the East, Rain in the West”, with the BBC getting the overall picture for the day probably correct, but as usual the timing about eight hours out.

We caught another Redwing then a troublesome Wren but the rain was beginning to soak the net - not good.

Several parties of Pink-footed Goose were arriving from the North West, and a couple of parties of Whooper Swans flew noisily over.



Otherwise there was very little migration or movement, the amount of overnight cloud and rain put paid to that. In the short time we were there we saw not much, just odd Chaffinches, a party of local Goldfinch, the stubble Skylarks and a couple of Reed Buntings, together with the welcome sounds of Grey Partridge alongside the watery ditch.

We were taking the nets down when a few Fieldfares flew out from cover behind us to head off for brighter parts. That was just what we needed to do, as by now we were both damp and disappointed. Oh well, you can’t win them all and you certainly can’t beat the elements.

“Hang your fat balls from a tree” advised Will, “you’ll have loads of birds crawling all over them within minutes”. A little taken aback I promised I would try the suggestion as soon as I got back home.

They work like magic. Within 15 minutes the Starlings had pretty much destroyed them with the leftovers attracting other interested parties. Pictures; Starling, Chaffinch, Coal Tit.







More balls please Will.

... They Keep Fallin......

Yes, it’s still raining but I’m not going to let that get me down because I have just spent an hour fixing the tethers of a mist net then set to on my pliers with WD40 in preparation for Sunday morning and the second coming of Fieldfares.

I’m still going through the old slides so here’s few to be going on with, the theme being “peckers and others” - and they give me the chance to have a rant where necessary.

Lesser-spotted Woodpeckers have never been common in this part of coastal Lancashire, in fact quite uncommon but turning to rare in the 1990’s, then becoming virtually non-existent in the new millennium. I think they last bred in the Fylde in the early 90’s but the picture below was taken in a wood near Salwick, Preston in 1982.



The last regular place to see lesser spots in the Fylde was perhaps Thurnham Hall where the ringing group used to do some work until that too was developed, this time for “leisure”. “Isn’t birding leisure?” I ask myself. What I really meant was the site was developed for someone to make money out of it, selling timeshare flats and opening up the grounds to a free for all. There’s no money in birding unless you are the RSPB, a mobile phone or pager company or import the latest optical must have.

Anyway the next picture was taken on Merseyside some years later when a fluke catch found both Great-spotted Woodpecker and Lesser-spotted Woodpecker in the same mist net. Note the aggression of the larger bird towards the Lesser-spotted Woodpecker.



My own ideas on the demise of the smaller species is that it is linked to the simultaneous rise over the same time span in the numbers of Great-spotted Woodpeckers where both species must compete to a great extent for suitable nesting sites, where the larger species is predatory and where the Lesser-spotted Woodpecker has historically always been on the edge of its range.

The next pictures show Northern Flicker which I likened in habits and looks some weeks ago to our UK Green Woodpecker when one showed up in Poulton le Fylde and which apparently became the subject of some frenzied twitching and listing. Obviously the first two pictures are mine, Long Point circa 1990, the third and superb one, is definitely not.







The next two pictures are fairly old digitised slides, one has clearly taken to the new format better than the other. The first is a Wryneck I found at Marton Mere many years ago one early August morning in 1986BMP (Before Mobiles and Pagers). At first it was easy to watch, I re-found the bird on a later visit where if I remember correctly, several people gathered round to watch it. By the third and forth day it became increasingly difficult to find as it roamed around the site, hiding amongst the old tip material, and some people never caught up with it.



Maybe the second picture from Scilly shows why a Wryneck can be so difficult to see or find unless served up on a plate.



Finally, someone asked me if I had any more pictures of the Pine Bunting because they want to go out and find one this weekend. I found one more picture, but good luck, you’ll need it if it continues raining like this.

...On My Head.....

I just missed Seumus this morning as he topped out the feeding station at Rawcliffe Moss where he reported an increase in most everything. After we watched a couple of thousand tightly packed Starlings whoosh noisily over, I kindly let him get off to work. Then so as to let the feeding station birds return, I spent some time watching out for birds around the farm buildings.

No surprises here with the usual Dunnock and the Robin which wanted to be top of the tailings this morning, unlike the Grey Wagtail which searched around the base of the pile of debris where I watched it find pale coloured grubs but also little round blackish ones to eat. The photographic difficulty this morning was freezing the action of its constantly wagging tail with a slow shutter in the poor light as dark rain clouds threatened to spoil another morning’s birding.









After a while I drove down to the feeding track, saturated fields on either side of me where hundreds of Black-headed Gulls had found the overnight flood. From the end of the track I could see odd Fieldfares and Redwings perched on the hedgerow, and then right at the end of the hedge Tree Sparrows darting back and forth to the ground feed. I prefer not to know Seumus’ count as I don’t want to be influenced by it, but we are usually within 20 or 30 birds of each other. I think we were close again today with my count of 170 Tree Sparrows with about a dozen Fieldfare, 15 Redwings and half a dozen Blackbird with finches represented by 10 to 12 Chaffinch.

Looking back towards the floods I could see and hear Lapwings in the air, spooked from the floods by something unseen as they took flight. They scattered in all directions, even overhead, so my count of 250 is approximate.



Walking to the 93 hedge I disturbed a number of Goldfinch from the weedy set aside, two little groups, first a flock of 40 then in a few yards another 30 or so followed the first group. A heavy shower began so I took a short cut through the wood, to hear more “tseeps” of Redwings and the chattering of departing Fieldfares.

I crossed a double stile to head west, wading shin deep in parts, then along another hedgerow where there are usually Reed Buntings and Corn Buntings close to a sheltered ditch. A couple more Redwing and Blackbird here, then in the corner, as expected 6 Reed Bunting and 5 Corn Bunting. One eye on the clouds, I followed the ditch back south to skirt the wood and added a couple more Goldfinch from the ditch with a Song Thrush and two Redwing.

More close packs of Starlings came by with some taking to the overhead telephone wires as a mass of distant black, seemingly weighing down the cables. There are some large gatherings of Starlings this year, both roosts and the early morning and evening feeding parties that the large roost gatherings create. Plenty of continentals no doubt, I suppose I had better catch a few in the garden with just the chance of an old eastern European ring.

By now I was back in the car avoiding the rain when towards me and towards the gathered Starlings went a Merlin, in business mode; clipped flight, wings held tight back, slightly bounding even as it sped towards the black cables but then out of my line of sight, but I did see the Starlings scatter. At least this is my chance to drag out a poor, ancient, mucky old slide of Merlin – one of these days I’ll get near.



I spent a bit more time taking pics of the wagtail through the rain drops whilst it played hide and seek in the sprouting tailings then I parked up for another day.

Rain Drops Keep Fallin' ........

Nothing was going to keep me in this morning, even the promise of “heavy showers”, because with that assurance was the idea of “sunny spells”. So Conder Green it was, forsaking my usual stop at Pilling until later.

Through the spitting rain I surveyed the pool to look for PW’s 10 Little Grebes but this morning I could locate only 4, the remainder having done their trick of hiding in parts binoculars can not reach i.e. around the back of the islands I think. There were 2 Goosander sailing around, diving intermittently, as were 7 Tufted Duck and a single Goldeneye.

The Spotted Redshank was on the far island, as were a Greenshank and the Ruff that has been here a while now but mostly in the creek. The combined Teal count from the pool and the creeks came to 95 but they kept a suitable distance to stop my photography. I really want to take a picture of a drake Teal in bright sunshine, what a beautiful duck it is. But no pictures yet, everything was too distant and the weather too dull with just a peek of blue sky now and again.

Round at the car park I looked from the embankment to see the waders, mostly Knot and Lapwing gathering pre roost, but hidden in the channels I heard plenty of Wigeon calling. Out to the right sat a waiting Merlin, tiny on a wooden post, much too distant for a picture.



There seemed to be a number of Blackbirds in the car park, maybe 10 or so, but probably no more than normal. In the car park and then along the cycle way towards Glasson, I thought there were more than the normal number of Chaffinch, perhaps 20+ and they were very vocal with plenty of “pink, pink” calls. One of the males posed obligingly for me but I didn’t have any luck with about a dozen Goldfinch.



Across the bridge, the hailstones came down but changed rapidly to heavy rain wetting me through, so not allowing me to take a picture of 6 Whooper Swans which flew overhead, heading south. At this I quickly hid my camera away from the heavy rain then retreated to the car to head for Jeremy Lane.

From the lane gateway I counted over 40 Mute Swans with a lone Whooper. There were a few Curlew on the flood but as I watched them, a party of Black-tailed Godwit flew around and about before landing on the developing pool; they were a bit distant in the rainy gloom but I counted 36, a nice number for here.





As the sun came out, I stopped at the water treatment plant to dry off the inside of my car but also to watch some Magpies, Public Enemy No1, clowning around. I must admit I’m not a Magpie lover, after on many occasions helplessly watching them take fledgling Blackbirds from hedgerows, so I have in the past shoved a few mist net bamboos through one or two Magpie nests to sort of even up the score. But here was a bit of a challenge; first, because they are the unloved, they are usually very wary of close approach, and secondly, can I get a photograph of a black bird whilst depicting the dark eye, not to mention the blue/green of the plumage?





A Pied Wagtail also fed around the flooded compound, avoiding the Magpies as much as possible. This reminded me of a gem of a story involving Mr and Mrs Joe Public who upon seeing a number of recently fledged wagtails, and being familiar with Magpies, concluded that the wagtails were in fact baby Magpies! In a strange way it’s actually fairly logical. Maybe as this couple grow older they will learn that the average small passerine’s breeding and fledging cycle takes 4 to 5 weeks, whereas human offspring don’t fledge nowadays until they are at least 25 years old, by which time they have outgrown their parents. Thanks for the story Will.



That rarity the common House Sparrow, hung around the immediate hedgerow, about 8 of them, together with 11 Collared Doves.



At Bank End there were 4 Little Egrets, with 2 Kestrels hunting the embankment but it really was too wet and miserable to get good photos.



Even though the rain hammered down, I called in at Fluke Hall Lane where at least we will reap the benefit of the floods that will soon hold some waders, wildfowl and swans. Today a family of Whooper Swans sat some distance towards the wall, 2 adults and 4 young.



By now the rain had changed from heavy showers to a torrential downpour, beginning to actually flood the roads, so I headed for home via Wheel Lane where in parts the roadside ditches were overflowing in readiness for tomorrow.

Not a bad morning’s birding, very enjoyable considering the shocking weather but it would have been nice to get out and walk in a little sunshine.

Owl About

I had a net in the garden this morning while minding little Olivia. She wasn’t too keen on the Starlings, “too noisy, Grandad” she said, but she quite liked the Goldfinch. It got a bit too windy with a few spots of rain, a prelude to the rest of the day.



It could be my only bit of ringing all week as I look at the Atlantic chart but maybe a bit of windsurfing or extreme yachting is on the cards. Let’s hope there are at least some bright spells to offer a little birding.



So to fill the page today I have posted some old owl pictures freshly digitised, each with a bit of a tale or account included. Alright maybe the quality isn’t all it should be, but owls can be a bit difficult to get to grips with lately; I haven’t had an owl within snapshot range since acquiring my new camera in August.

There used to be a regular spot near Moss Edge, Cockerham where a Tawny Owl always sat inside the broken stump to merge into the background, invisible to most passers by except the birders who knew of it. I’m not sure what happened to the tree but it was probably taken down under the auspices of “Health and Safety”. The second picture is of a Tawny Owl caught at a winter roost, either the Singleton or Clifton thrush and finch roosts in the years before the halls were converted to housing and industrial use respectively, following which we lost the opportunity to study there.





It seems that the Tawny Owl has often been seen as an omen of bad luck. William Shakespeare used it as such in Julius Caesar – “And yesterday the bird of night did sit/ Even at noon-day upon the market-place/ Hooting and shrieking." John Ruskin is quoted as saying "Whatever wise people may say of them, I at least have found the owl's cry always prophetic of mischief to me". Well that autumn call can be a bit spooky but bad luck or not I wouldn’t mind seeing a few more soon.

Next, a couple of pictures of Little Owl from Over Wyre some years ago. Maybe they are not as common in recent years, especially on the roadside in the daytime because there is so much passing traffic now. But I know of several quiet places where I can still find Little Owls, especially early morning or situations where they become accustomed to the comings and goings of people and farm vehicles.





The last picture is of Great Horned Owl at “1”J stage i.e. fledged but not fully able to fly. I found this at Long Point Bird Observatory, Canada one morning c1990 whilst carrying out the daily transect bird count when I spotted the young bird watching me. As I walked towards it to get a better look it took off on what it thought was a flight that turned out to be a 20 yard glide to the floor of the woodland, where it crashed unceremoniously down. Fortunately its reaction to me turned out to be less fearsome than the yellow eyed stare promised as I bundled it up in my coat to return to the ringing station for a very large ring.



The tree they bred in was well known, an obvious spot to pick up a pellet or two, but no need to look too hard for them as they were pretty easy to see.



Oh, I nearly forgot, the mystery bird from last time was a young male Pine Bunting caught one October morning in the 1990s on North Ronaldsay. I hope everyone got it right.

Various Bits

It was a pretty poor decision last night to give ringing a miss after being led astray by the BBC’s poor forecasting again. But at 0730 with a light southerly blowing it was already too late to go and start putting nets up, but at least they had promised some sunshine for birding and I had unfinished business at Rossall.

It was pretty murky near the point where I found Seumus and Ian “vis migging” and sea watching, eyes and ears concentrating on the above and beyond but fighting a light mist with a poor excuse for a sun making no inroads into improving the visibility.

I found the Stonechats behind the tower and spent some minutes trying to get decent photographs as they insisted on staying on the wrong side of what light there was. I could have tried taking a shot from the golf course but it’s a fairly dangerous spot anyway, without standing on a direct line from a tee shot, especially early on a Saturday morning following the Friday night nineteenth hole.

It didn’t take me long to give up this particular effort, but I promised myself another go when the sun came out.



There weren’t many waders on the beach today, perhaps just as a result of the slightly higher tide, so I struggled to find enough to photograph but at least today there were twenty or so Ringed Plovers amongst the Turnstone.





As usual the Oystercatcher come and go from the tide line according to their strict unwavering rule that dictates how near anyone can get; they seem to vary this rule for people with dogs, and fly off even earlier. So after a few attempts I got a few shots but a red eye on a black bird is difficult to catch without direct sun.



Not long after I turned near home just as the sun emerged.

I spent the afternoon experimenting with the slide copier as several hundred slides collected over the years emerged from a long forgotten black plastic case. It’s funny but I remember those slides being far better than they looked today, poor focus, badly composed, shocking exposure, tiny peas on a far off drum many of them. Time hadn’t helped either with a hint of yellowing on some with buckled cardboard surrounds on others. Only one thing to do for many of them, sorry chaps.



But I found a few that transferred to the digital age with a score of 2/10, and at least it’s a bit of back up for blog non-photo days. So to kick off here’s a competition along the lines of “mystery bird” but only for anyone that doesn’t know me. I pulled this bird from a mist net several years ago in Britain. What is it? Answers next time.