Here’s a short update from a quiet walk over Pilling way today. It’s brief again because of the season of the year, when nothing much seems to happen on the migration front while birds go about their summer business.
At Lane Ends there are still 2+ Little Grebe, 2 singing Reed Warbler, one singing Blackcap and a secretive Jay in the plantation, with singing Reed Bunting and Willow Warbler now at Pilling Water, almost certainly not the Lane Ends birds of late. Corn Buntings are now represented by 3+ birds showing all the signs of territorial behaviour which could be a blunder if the farmer cuts his silage any day soon. Other passerines noted, Lane Ends to Fluke via Pilling Water: 18 Skylark including fledged but scattered youngsters being fed by adults, 8 Goldfinch, 3 Pied Wagtail, 5 Meadow Pipit, 4 Whitethroat, 6 Greenfinch.
Meadow Pipit
I took a stab at counting the post breeding waders, including any obvious and frequently distant youngsters; 18 Oystercatcher, 45 Lapwing, 22 Redshank, 6 Curlew.
Scientists say we shouldn’t write about birds in an anthropomorphic way, but when in the breeding season I watch the adults of wading birds, Lapwings, but particularly Redshank and Oystercatcher, I am struck by behaviour that we humans recognise as good parenting skills: keeping a permanent watch on their offspring, immediately warning the minors of potential danger, and if necessary intervening on the youngsters behalf if they are in danger. Before “bringing up baby” there are the less obvious things to consider, meeting up with a good partner and then finding a safe place to build a nest and hatch their eggs, so as to be able to raise their young to the point of independence. Of course, most bird species only need look out for their offspring for a week or two, unlike us humans where the timescale is now more like twenty-five or thirty years.
The adult Oystercatcher yelled to the couple of chicks not far away when it saw me peering from the car window. I’ll allow readers to imagine what the Oystercatcher might be shouting.
The adult Oystercatcher yelled to the couple of chicks not far away when it saw me peering from the car window. I’ll allow readers to imagine what the Oystercatcher might be shouting.
Oystercatcher
Oystercatcher
The guardian Redshank is less frantic but still watchful, the picture spoiled by the sun directly behind, illuminating right through the bird’s legs.
Redshank
Lapwings, which breed a little earlier than Redshanks and Oystercatchers have now mostly given up on parenting and instead joined in with post-breeding groups of birds. There’s just an occasional bird warning now large young to stay hidden, even though the youngsters are well able to fly.
Lapwing
Stay tuned, more soon on Another Bird Blog.