Great Bustards

A birthday treat was to visit the reintroduced Great Bustards on the military range of Salisbury Plain. Amid great secrecy (blindfolds, Official Secrets Act, chinese burns) we were taken by Land Rover across the firing ranges to a hide on the plain. From there we could see an enclosure with three dots that (on magnification) turned into great bustards.

Looking through the provided Swarovski, the dots became three heaps of feathers - apparently turkeys trying to turn themselves inside out.

The birds were all males, indulging in a lek even without the presence of females. Presumably the bright display can be seen for a long distance across the steppes, and so can attract any potential mates from the area.

One bird (purple 5) was clearly the dominant male, and was the only one to have reached breeding maturity so far. He's a bit of a star, and knows it.

From time to time, other birds flew in (still only males, unfortunately), giving us good views of their white, brown and black wings, looking vaguely like geese. If I had seen one elsewhere, I would not have had a clue what it was.
At each arrival, Purple 5 would approach the newcomer, which would crouch down into a submissive pose. Purple 5 would then strut around for a while, but then the group would calm down and proceed to lek again.

The birds are not pinioned or constrained in any way, and so can fly off and may disappear for weeks at a time. Over 50 have been released, and many have been sighted in various parts of the south-west. When thick snow fell this winter, they all flew south towards the Dorset coast but started to return when the weather improved.

A particular problem seems to be that they are reluctant to see foxes as a threat. This may, of course, be because they see dogs being walked nearby and so do not take fright when a real predator appears.

The project will take time to prove its success, as the birds are brought in as eggs or chicks from Russia and then have to reach maturity. Consequently the establishment of a breeding group will be a few years away. I wish the team the very best of luck, both in breeding success and in raising funds to keep the project going. It should get good publicity by being on the One Show tonight.

Marvellous birds - just look at that moustache! I only later saw that I had cropped the greatbustard.org website name as below:

Maybe this could challenge the hegemony of the legendary fatbirder?

While watching the bustards, a popular pastime was playing spot-the-stone-curlew. At 400 yards or so, that's a challenge, but eventually one was seen "just to the left of the dandelion". Great to see.


Unexpectedly, a pub in Oxford was found to sell Arkells Kingsdown Ale, which tasted not half bad.

South Foreland

It was a pleasant spring morning so we went looking for spring gentians on the St Margarets cliff-top. We didn't find any (they are probably now consigned to the sea after one of the cliff falls) but there was consolation in a sudden arrival of raptors around 11am.
Firstly a red kite was seen being mobbed by the local jackdaws and crows, and this might have been the same bird seen by the Bockhill birders who were probably gazing skywards by the monument in the picture at the time.

Then my sharp-eyed companion saw a spiral of raptors riding a thermal overhead, with more joining to benefit from the lift. We counted three more red kites and eleven common buzzards.

But even this number was small compared to the numbers counted by the Bockhillers across the bay.

The Bockhill website compliments Robert Sonnen of the National Trust on the good work he has done on the clifftops between Dover and Kingsdown, and we would echo the praise as much of the scrub has been cut back and the sward has been improved by the Dexters and Koniks over the winter. We look forward to recording the butterflies on these areas this year.

Then..... refreshments at Mrs Miggins pie shop (aka Mrs Knott's tearoom) where tea and scones are served in bone china crockery, and an air of refinement is all around. And where I have been known to don a pinny to help out in the busy times.
From the top there is a marvellous view, and eye-level views were had of kestrel, sparrowhawk and peregrine, with ravens flying along the cliff-edge.

This brought to mind a most enjoyable book by local birder (ringer and taxidermist) Norman McCanch, who describes the enviable lifestyle of lighthouse-keeping as a birder. Each page is fascinating as the changing seasons bring different species to the safety (or danger) of lighthouses.

And finally an autumnal photo (since we've given up on spring and summer) taken this week at St Margarets.

Snakesheads

Today I started to wake, opened my eyes, sought out the sunlight and stretched my back.
Maybe it's nearly spring - nearly time to to shed my skin and feel good again.
Nearly, because it's only warm out of the relentless, chilling, starvation wind.

The sequence of renewal has started but it progresses only slowly.  The coltsfoot is first, as usual in the shelter of the cliffs.

A lesser stag beetle is found under a log, comatose but alive and waiting for its time to strut and fret his hour upon the woodland stage.

 

 

Moschatel raises a tentative bud, and a rare patch of wild daffodils remains furled, unwilling to greet the uncertain sun.

 

In a garden, a lawn of snakeshead fritillaries is dotted with pink, the start of a glory that should already be here.

And an early chiffchaff chimes the birds into life, "as if every note had been the hammering of a tiny nail into winter's coffin".
Edward Thomas wrote this towards the end of In Pursuit of Spring, a work that seems all the more poignant in this slow chilled season.

The Drellingore runneth once more

Three years ago, I posted that the winterbourne stream, the Drellingore, was running along Alkham valley.
Accompanying the photo was a phrase from Leland saying that 'ones in a vj or vij yeres brasted owt so abundantly that a great part of the water cummeth into Dovar streme'.

Unsurprisingly this year, one of the wettest on record etc etc, the stream has risen again (after only iii yeres), and has flooded the fields and Russell Gardens further downstream. At Kersney Abbey the river, now named the Dour, is rushing nicely too.

This reminded me of a film taken of two boys trying to canoe down the river Dour in 1969..... a valuable historical record of how different the town was just a few decades ago.

There have been reports of the Lydden Spout pouring through the chalk cliffs and into the sea at Shakespeare Cliff, which must be a good sight - has anyone seen it?

And a Happy New Year to You Too (2)

The sun came out (and stayed) on the first day of 2013. A reasonably early start contributed only a few species to the new year list, and the scoters were too far offshore to distinguish. Eight Stumpies were on the pier, however.

Next up Sandwich Bay, and I don't know if this grey partridge was more welcome than the good chat and cuppa at the observatory. Or the mince pie.

Through Pfizer with an eye open for waxwings....... but all I saw was this mistle thrush admiring itself in the reflective window.

A garbled shout of "waxwings!" at the roadside....... ten feeding on hips and twittering nicely. They haven't all gone to Sussex then.

Little at Pegwell due to late arrival and a very high tide, so inland to Seaton Pits for duck. A lovely place in the winter sunshine, and a pleasing addition of goldcrest and little egret.

And then on to Stodmarsh for the setting of the sun, and a great close view of a ringtail hen harrier, flying out of the reeds by the path. Redwings and fieldfares piled in across the lake and on to their roost, and strange noises emerged from the marsh..... squealing water rails, pinging beardies, strident Cetti's and unidentified contact calls.



Since announcing the winding up of Kingsdowner I have been inundated by an email, so I'll keep it going for a little longer, while setting up another slightly different blog (as if the world needs more) and changing the old posts to a more Kingsdown-related display.

May the sun shine through 2013 for you.

Closer to home

 Closer to home has many attractions, despite the constant threat of showers.

Ticking off the natural enjoyments of the weekend, I can include:

• backyard ticks of goldfinch and black redstart (!) both twittering in their inimitable way, surrounded by concrete and roofs, well out of sight of any trees. Presumably the blackstart is the same as recorded by Gerald nearby on the same day;

•  loafing around the cliffs, a glaucous gull.... the one that has matured by the fishing boats of Dungeness, obviously;

• floating past the rifle range, an immature male eider;

• 23 dunlin, 13 ringed plovers and three turnstones roosting on the shingle, en route to the north with various stages of breeding plumage;

•  a small copper butterfly;

 

•  over 100 green-winged orchids on the golf course but not in the paddock; and

• a tiny flower of spring vetch..... a first for me;

 

• the wonderful sight of a short-eared owl flying over the long grass of the Sandwich Bay estate, and in the evening, flushing it from the side of the road, and it landing beside the road. It stayed looking at us as dusk faded to night - a big ball of fluff resembling a long-haired cat more than a bird, but its camouflage among the tussocks was marvellous;

• a family of five fox-cubs gambolling in the middle of the road towards midnight, all big paws and big ears; and last but not least

• good company.

Feet on the Ledge

Flamborough Head on the East Yorkshire coast sticks out into the North Sea and makes you feel like you're in the middle of the ocean when the wind blows. This makes it very good for birds.

As an added benefit, a cold current washes down from the north and collides with warmer water coming up from the south, providing a small concentrated area of food which the birds feast upon, a constant stream of them moving across the point..... auks in their 30-50s, gannets in groups of a dozen of so, and gulls and kittiwakes moving on their own.

At any time there were hundreds of birds swimming or flying offshore.

I looked around the edge of an outcrop and got a shock - a small group of guillemots were nesting within close view, and a few of the early settlers had an egg. They look like Easter eggs, all turquoise and brown.

Kittiwakes nearby had colonised an overhang, on the cliffs which are chalk, Jim, but not as we know it - it's much harder than the White Cliffs down south, so much so that local houses were built of chalk rocks.
Guillemots occupy the slightly flatter parts, while razorbills seem to prefer impossibly narrow ledges. Keep those feet on the ledge!
And down below, grey seals patrol and occasionally rise up to take a swimming auk.



A couple of miles along the north coast of Flamborough Head is the RSPB reserve of Bempton Cliffs, nesting ground for thousands of sea birds at this time of the year and one of the most magnificent birding experiences in England.

According to Poysers' Bird Observatories of Britain and Ireland, the most recent counts of birds here include:

• Gannet 2,552 nests
• Kittiwake 85,095 pairs
• Guillemot 46,685 birds
• Razorbill 8,539 birds
• Puffin 2,615 pairs

That's a lot of birds, especially when many of them leave the cliffs as one of the Peregrine falcons cruises by.

I reckon we saw only about 30 puffins, but having watched one fly in towards the cliff and immediately disappear into a hole that's not surprising. Another one was glimpsed peeping out.

The gannets were far more obvious, gliding and stalling in the strong wind, before dropping onto one of the colonies.There's an egg there, just visible under the parent's feet.

And no report of Bempton is complete without mention of the colony of tree sparrows nesting noisily around the visitor centre.

It's a wonderful area - if you haven't been, please go (in spring, because the nests and cliffs will soon be empty).