Resistance Training

Every time I've been for a decent walk lately, I've worn boots. Usually the grass is wet, and they seem the sensible option...

These boots were made for...er...walking.

Trouble is, the monsters weigh almost 1kg apiece. That's like heading off down the road with a bag of sugar strapped to each foot. No wonder my hip flexors wind up a bit sore, swinging those babies forward every stride. Anyway, today I didn't go out until quite late. The sunshine had me in shorts and a tired old pair of Merrell trainers, at half the weight. I was off like a rocket, and far less fatigued. It was like swapping the steel winter bike for the lighweight summer job. Brilliant!

Athletes would call this resistance training. Loosely defined, it applies to any exercise performed against a resistance (often a weight) and is designed to build muscular strength and endurance. The principle is that you make things intentionally hard for yourself, in order to make everything feel so much easier when the resistance is no longer present.

So let's take the principle and apply it to birding.

For most of us the spring birding has been pretty slow. The lockdown restrictions are like a massive extra weight on the barbell, like trying to climb the Col du Galibier on a Boris Bike. The birding version of resistance training. Have there been any benefits though? Benefits that will become evident when the restrictions are eased?

Speaking personally, yes, I think so. I've spent a lot of time looking at the sky. I've got good at it, certainly much better than I was. I have come to know the look of a uniformly blue, utterly birdless expanse. The moment - the very instant - that a bird intrudes upon it, it is nailed. Nailed. So yes, I've got brilliant at watching the infinitely empty bloomin' sky.

Nocmig is like a resistance training regime in itself. If you want to improve your ability to recognise bird calls, nocmig is like the weights-machine from hell. Take your usual birdy squeaks, chips, prrrts and yips, remove all context (like habitat, or handily-passing actual bird) and there you have it: a bird-call training mega work-out.

Like last night...

An interesting little squiggle on the spectrogram, and even more so when I listened to it. See if you can work out what it is. I'm going to give you a big fat clue: it's a wader.

So, I listened to it and thought to myself, 'Hmmm, that's obviously a passerine, but I've no idea which one.' And away I went, steaming off down some hopeless blind alley. Assuming you've listened to it, knowing it's a wader, chances are that you will have got it. If you are familiar with the call of Common Sandpiper, that is. Perhaps you're thinking how obvious it is, and how useless that NQS bloke is, and no doubt you are correct. I am really bad at this.

Anyway, Common Sand over my garden! What! Fantastic! Also a flock of Whimbrel that was audible for more than a minute!

I should mention that today's walk was very poor for birds. The only pukka migrant I encountered was a single Wheatear. This was nice though...

First Small Heath of the year.

All the while I was gliding silkily along in my gossamer shoes, I was thinking that it looked a brilliant day for raptors, and ever-conscious that much of UK airspace has lately been filled with Black Kites, Honey Buzzards and stupidly-rare, dark-morph Montagu's Harriers. But not a single interesting raptor did I see.

However, I'd been home about five minutes and a Red Kite drifted over. And then two more. Then three together. Then five together! By the end of a 20-25 minute spell, at least 13 had gone W, and shortly afterwards a 14th popped up above the trees to our east, eating something. It reappeared later, but didn't drift W like the others had. A Red Kite bonanza!

Any excuse for Red Kite photos...

A couple of silhouetted birds...

...and a slightly better lit one

Clutching something rather meaty-looking...

...and tucking in.

Red Kites are no longer the novely they once were, but they are always going to be a very welcome sight I think. Black versions will of course be a very, very welcome sight.