January 2020

Experience tells me that I am not immune from phasing, so in order to mitigate that tendency I plan at least to write a monthly review type post, come what may, just in case there's been nothing else for the previous four weeks. This is the first. I know it's a bit late, but the idea only occurred to me this afternoon...

January 1st. The very flooded entrance to the West Bex Reserve.

January was very kind to me. In no particular order...

White Wagtail. One birding friend put it like this: 'Reckon you dug a big hole for yourself with that one, and just about managed to climb out...'  I think he's not wrong. Winter White Wags are no doubt very scarce at least, maybe properly rare. With hindsight, my ID research before claiming it was a bit sketchy. After the fact someone did kindly put me on to a very definitive paper on the topic, and thankfully the bird survived closer scrutiny. In future I will try to remember to do research first. Here is the little scoundrel...

Looks pretty cool though doesn't it?

Caspian Gulls. Finding three Casps in one calendar month is ridiculous. Two 1st-winters on the Axe, and a 2nd-winter on the West Bexington mere. This crazy hit rate has done wonders for my confidence, and just at the moment I feel almost hard done by when a big gang of gulls produces nothing, forgetting that this is actually the norm! Getting into gulls has added so much to my birding. The learning curve is endless, and if you like a challenge I cannot recommend it highly enough. Without exception I have found that more experienced and knowledgeable gull enthusiasts are happy to help if you seek it, and gracious in their doing so. And the rewards are obvious...

Gulls rock!

7th Jan. Axe Estuary 1st-winter

26th Jan. West Bex 2nd-winter

28th Jan. Axe Estuary. Lumpy 1st-winter

Sibe Chiffs. Prior to this winter I was very unsure how exactly to define a tristis Chiff. So it was deeply satisfying to reach a happy conclusion on this. Essentially I've adopted a 'best-fit' kind of strategy, but I'm conscious that many other birders have likewise embraced the necessity for this. For me the complex reality of Chiff genetics precludes a less pragmatic approach.

The journey was fascinating. There is stacks of literature on the topic, and some of it is perfectly readable. Even the stodgy stuff contained enough gems to warrant wading through it. Having birds respond to song playback was a real thrill. You're giving them the soundtrack of a Siberian forest, and suddenly you appreciate just how far away from home they are...

Kilmington tristis, with typical sewage filter bed background.

Med Gull Invasion. At least 123 Meds on the Axe in a day. Compared to a previous record of 30-odd. It was brilliant to witness this. I wonder if it's the start of something...?

Jan 29th. There are 10 or 11 Med Gulls in this shot alone. Mad.

Jan 30th. Quite a few still around. Beautiful gulls.

Other stuff. There was twitching. Going for Ian McLean's American Herring Gull at West Bex might have been a dip, but it earned me the Bex Caspian Gull and a bonus Yellow-legged Gull. Plus I got to meet a few of Dorset's birders and practise my social skills.

There was a golf ball...

Maxfli Noodle Long & Soft rescued from the estuary mud. Lifer.

There was a frustrating exchange with a bird photographer. Not my finest hour, but unless there is a compelling reason not to I tend to let NQS be a 'warts and all' kind of thing. Actually, frustrating is not the word. Depressing fits better. All the good birding has been a fine antidote though...

There was a lot of solitude. Birding alone, in beautiful surroundings, has been a major feature of the month, and exactly what I was hoping for. No pressure to stick to a defined area, or to keep a list. It has been utterly liberating...

Burton Cliffs, looking E from Freshwater Beach at sunset. When birds don't matter...