Littoralis Woes

Sheltering from the rain this morning, I peered out over a lumpy, grey sea. It looked brilliant, and I could imagine close flocks of Whimbrel and Barwits forging into the wind, maybe a skua or three...

Reality was typically short on thrills though, and two Sandwich Terns was the sum of it. Literally nothing else but local gulls and Fulmars. Thank goodness there had been a migrant in the moth trap earlier...

The humble Silver Y looks pretty smart close up. Third migrant species of the year, after Dark Sword-grass and Rush Veneer.

Late yesterday afternoon I ventured up the valley to Mangerton once again. The Daffodils which featured in the last two posts were on my mind. Despite their seeming absence from the Big Book of Dorset Flora's distribution map, the Mangerton Daffs had just received some encouraging endorsement. A friend who knows his plants had taken a look, and sent an email earlier. Hopefully he won't mind me quoting from it...

Their small size, colour of both the 'flower tube' and the surrounding 'petals', the fact that the 'petals' are fairly straggly, and their actual growth habit (isolated small clumps rather than an obvious planted bed of them) are all good for wild Daffodil. So on balance I think they are wild Daffodils...

This objective analysis was really helpful to a wildflower beginner like me. It may be of relatively little consequence in the grand scheme of things, and the species is hardly a great rarity, but I cannot tell you how delighted I am to have found my own wild Daffodils, especially as they are so local and apparently under the radar. They have mostly gone over now, but I look forward to visiting again next year, and hopefully seeing them in their prime.

Other modest highlights yesterday included my first House Martin of the year, plus...

A reasonable flight shot of a Sparrowhawk.

The Raven's nest has at least two young in it.

A pair of Stonechats (blurry female in the background) in a spot where I have seen the species a few times. Hopefully a breeding pair.

So that's the diary stuff up to date. Rock Pipits then...

2023 is the second year that I have become slightly obsessed with finding definite littoralis (so-called Scandinavian) Rock Pipits locally. I have absolutely no doubt they winter here - there is an obvious decrease in Rockit population at exactly the time you would expect littoralis birds to be leaving for their breeding grounds - but proving it is a nightmare. Ideally I hoped to come across birds which had moulted into the breeding finery which at least some of them attain, with blue-grey feathering on the head, plus reduced streaking and a peachy blush to the throat and upper breast. In two years, that hasn't happened. The best I have managed was a bird last year which had moulted two central tertials (possibly diagnostic of littoralis, but certainly indicative) and this bird back in late February...

A definite peachy tint to the throat. West Bay, 28th Feb.

But, is it possible to identify Rock Pipits to race based on less obvious characteristics? Some of the wintering population were rather pale below, for example, with less-intense streaking. Could that be a reliable feature? How about this next bird, photographed at the far end of the prom on 17th March?

And, if you enlarge the photo, it is easy to see some blue-grey feathers moulting through on the head. West Bay, 17th March.

Promising, yes? Unfortunately though, this next photo depicts the very same bird, three days earlier...

Singing Rock Pipit. Factor in the regular song-flighting etc, and it was pretty obvious that this individual was perfectly content right here in Dorset. Not littoralis then...

Anyway, all of a sudden it became obvious that our local Rockit population had quietly melted away without delivering the goods, and once again I was left a little frustrated. And then, on 22nd March, Martin Cade published some Rock Pipit photos on the Portland Bird Observatory blog. With Martin's kind permission, they are reproduced below...

Rock Pipit, Portland. Photos © Martin Cade

Definitely some blue-grey feathering about the head, a touch of pink on the breast, and those eyebrows! If only one of my local birds had looked like this one! Littoralis for sure, right?

Er...no. Please see Martin's fascinating post HERE.

I can accurately pinpoint the date on which my littoralis preconceptions - and, sadly, conclusions thus far - were dealt a severe blow:

22nd March, 2023.