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Tuesday, 31 December 2024

A Few Pike

Our son Rob is very persuasive. Prior to visiting for a week or so, he convinced me that my first fishing rod licence since 2019 and membership of Exeter & District Angling Association were essential December purchases. Also that I should dust off the piking gear and set aside some time...

The last few days have been fun.

We caught ten pike. I was jammy enough to catch seven of them...

We were surprised that this one weighed no more than 14lb. A bit skinny and empty, it looks like it ought to carry at least another two or three pounds.

Another 14-pounder, but plump and nicely conditioned.

Compare that last fish with this, another slim one but the biggest so far, at 15lb 8oz.

The 15lb 8oz fish again.

Those three were all caught on our first visit to the venue last Friday afternoon/evening, within the first four hours. At this rate we were all set to empty the place. Well...obviously that didn't happen.

The next visit was more typical, though I did land the prettiest fish so far...

Just a jack, but as is so often the case with small pike, absolutely immaculate.

The Exeter Canal is about six miles long, and we explored around two-thirds of that over four days, from above the Countess Wear bridge down to Turf Lock. The piking potential is obvious, and in previous years (2016-2018) we have landed six twenty pounders between us (four to Rob) up to 24lb 14oz. Both of us were a bit rusty, but it didn't seem to matter much.

A lovely little jack for Rob today.

Rob's biggest. Not weighed, but around 10lb or so. Another slim one.

My first today.

And our final pike of 2024, a beauty of 18lb and a few ounces

The 18-pounder goes back.

And away...

Rob heads back to Switzerland in a couple of days, and I do wonder if my Exeter & District club ticket will see any more use before it expires. I would like to think so, but am conscious that the last few days have been as much about the company and the craic as the fishing. We'll see.

Sunday, 29 December 2024

Another Year...

2025 is now just a couple* of bottles of wine away, so it probably isn't too early for a quick NQS review of the year's birdy stuff. I've trawled through my 2024 photos and picked some highlights. Here they are, grouped under random headings that allow for a few words and are at least in some way relevant...

Migrants

A large amount of my birding time is spent looking for migrants. Like all birders that have been at it for more than four decades, I spend most of the spring and autumn moaning about how few I see these days. Some of this will be down to failing eyesight and partial deafness, but quite possibly there actually are fewer birds too. For example, my 2024 tally of one Redstart is a bit rubbish.

An April Wheatear makes landfall at West Bay. Wisely, its stay is brief.

Firecrest is a notable exception to the numerically downward trend. I saw far more than usual this autumn.

At least three Cogden Dartford Warblers were a pleasant surprise.

Well, they are migrants. Turnstone and Sanderlings on Cogden Beach. Lovely.

Rarities

I am no longer interested in travelling to see rare birds, so megas like Kent's recent Yellow Warbler and Scops Owl do not feature on this blog. Frankly I wonder at the apparently undiminished appetite for long-distance twitching that still pervades the birding community. The old 'fiddling while Rome burns' analogy seems ever more appropriate. Anyway, rarities for me are not usually rarities in the generally accepted sense at all, but scarcities at best. Sometimes not even that. And they are very unlikely to be far away...

A roosting Nightjar at Cogden was the first daylight bird I've seen in 20+ years down here. That's 'rare' in my book.

The Whitford Rosy Starling, access to which courtesy of a generous local birder.

Plastic White-tailed Eagle over our Bridport garden. Rare enough, but subject to all kinds of caveats.

No arguments about this one - except that 'scarce' is not 'rare'. Still, what a bird! Woodchat Shrike at Cogden.

Mmmmmm...

Gulls

Always deserving of a special mention, gulls are one of my principal birdy pleasures in life. Finding two Caspian Gulls was a highlight of 2024, especially the Cogden bird, which rates as one of the smartest Casps I've encountered...

What an awesome creature! September 8th is my earliest date for Casp, so this is the closest to juvenile plumage that I've seen.

This 2nd-winter Casp on the Axe provided a really good photo opportunity. Thanks to Steve Waite's careful record-keeping I know that it was the 38th Caspian Gull seen on the estuary, since the first in November 2007.

Ten-year-old Med Gull from Hungary. Colour rings offer another way to get birding jollies from gulls.

The times, they are a-changing...

In recent years Cirl Bunting has become a regular sight locally. This welcome development sits alongside another that may not be quite so unambiguously delightful - the ongoing egret explosion.

Five Cattle Egrets over Black Hole Marsh, Seaton. Unthinkable when I first started birding.

Autumn Cirl Bunting at the West Bay vis-mig point. On the move to where, I wonder?

Local Cirl Bunting in April. Just stunning.

The Sea

Local seawatching in 2024 was a bit of a damp squib. Still, a short spring break at Portland Bird Observatory did not disappoint...

Portland Pom with 'poons. Pow!

The Seaton Birdwatching Tram

With two seasons now under the belt I can safely say that my role as one of the Seaton Birdwatching Tram guides has been a genuinely rewarding experience. Sharing just some of what my hobby has taught me over the years is a real pleasure, especially with the typically receptive and appreciative bunch that we get on these outings. And very often there are some great birds too...

Osprey from the tram. What a treat.

Three juvenile Barn Owls. A very nice surprise.

Random

Sometimes I get as much pleasure from a nice photo as from an actual bird. A few examples...

Cogden Goldcrest.

Garden Blackcap.

Cogden Stonechat.

Projects

To be honest there haven't been any serious projects in 2024, but I'm going to close with this topic anyway. In the past I have whiled away many a happy birding hour in pursuit of some whimsical project or other. Many have featured on this blog. I spent one educational winter getting to grips with Siberian Chiffchaff, for example. That was definitely worth the trouble. Trying to find a winter White Wagtail was another fun project. And there was my effort to determine whether or not our local winter population of Rock Pipits included birds which could be proven to be Scandinavian littoralis birds.

Why am I mentioning this stuff?

Because I get the impression that some birders are genuinely desirous of doing something about their high-carbon birding habits but struggle to see how their everyday local birds might provide a satisfying alternative. All I'm suggesting is that everyday local birds can be unexpectedly interesting. I have been pleasantly surprised at where curiosity and a bit of imagination can take you...

A December Rock Pipit along West Bay seafront. Littoralis?

And here it is with a juicy morsel from among that seemingly lifeless scatter of stranded flotsam.

Might that be one of these maggoty things - presumably fly larvae - found among similar beached debris on the Seaton shingle earlier in the autumn? So many questions...

All the very best in your 2025 birding endeavours.


*example of hyperbole

Saturday, 7 December 2024

2024 Moth Highlights

December always feels to me like a surplus month. Bird and moth-wise it's basically all over by the end of November, but...well...here's another 31 days just in case. And judging by recent Bluesky 'Moth Highlights of 2024' type posts, it's not just me who feels that way. Yes, there might be some decent birding yet to come this year, but my heart isn't really in it. I'm not exactly sure why I feel this way, but it may well be an age thing. In recent years I have noticed that the end of autumn is accompanied by an increasingly desperate longing for next spring! Anyway, here is the NQS 'Moth Highlights of 2024' type post...

As I knew would be the case, garden mothing in 2024 was pursued far less zealously than during the preceding 18 months or so. I didn't count catches, or note down very much at all, but did try to keep track of species new for the garden. So I am fairly confident that the garden tally (including aggregates) is now 553, of which 304 are macro-moths. I did take quite a few moth pics, so here is a fairly random selection of what I feel are the year's highlights...

Clockwise from top left: Beautiful Snout, December Moth (male and female), Frosted Orange, Herald.

The Beautiful Snout was actually trapped in our son's garden in Lyme Regis, but is such a stunner that it automatically earned itself a place here.

Clockwise from top left: Olive-tree Pearl Palpita vitrealis, Small Mottled Willow, Dark Sword-grass, Portland Ribbon Wave.

Nominally these are all migrants, though our Portland Ribbon Waves are quite likely Dorset bred. Olive-tree Pearl and Small Mottled Willow have occurred just once prior to this year, so three and two respectively was a nice result.

Clockwise from top left: Large Ranunculus, Banded Sable Spoladea recurvalis, Scarce Bordered Straw, Mottled Umber.

Large Ranunculus and Mottled Umber were both new for the garden. Scarce Bordered Straw is another migrant that has occurred just once previously, and we caught two this year. Spoladea recurvalis is easily the rarest migrant moth of the year, but was encountered at Cogden while birding. Typical.

Clockwise from top left: Grey Shoulder-knot, Cloaked Carpet, Least Black Arches, Oak Marble Eudemis profundana.

All the above were garden firsts except Cloaked Carpet, which has occurred once before.

Clockwise from top left: Galium Carpet, Lesser Wax Moth Achroia grisella, Garden Tiger, Black-streaked Tortrix Epinotia signatana.

All the above were garden firsts. As is often the case, the two micros are probably the scarcest of that lot, but Garden Tiger is nowadays on the Red List and has Near Threatened status. Certainly it's the first I've seen for donkey's years.

Clockwise from top left: Ghost Moth, Clover Stilt Parectopa ononidis, Ilex Leaf-miner Phyllonorycter messaniella, Red Underwing.

Apart from the Red Underwing - our second - all the above are new for the garden. The Clover Stilt was one of the highlights of a couple of very warm nights' mothing back in the summer. It is also possibly the scarcest moth trapped in 2024, and I think my personal favourite of the year.

So that's it for moths. The trap is now in...er...moth balls.

Tuesday, 3 December 2024

Zoom F1 Field Recorder

An afternoon walk to West Bay and back seemed like a fine way to check out my new Zoom F1 Field Recorder. I've set the record level to max now (Hi++) so was keen to see how it performed...

This is my on-the-go recording set-up.

My camera bag strap goes across the body and over my left shoulder, so the clippy lavalier mic winds up just behind my left shoulder. A handy thing with these old Crumpler Muffin Top bags is that the strap padding grips your shoulder pretty well, so it tends to stay in place even as you pull the bag back and forth to get at the camera - the webbing simply slides through the padded bit - which means the microphone is generally where it's meant to be. Some birders clip the mic to the peak of their cap, but I don't often wear a cap.

The Zoom F1. My settings: Rec Format 48k 24bit, Lo Cut 160Hz, Limiter OFF, Rec Level Hi++

I made a note of the time I started recording, and headed off.

I am not in the habit of reviewing a whole recording like I would with noc-mig, rather I note the time of any interesting bird sounds and check them out on Audacity later by scrolling to the relevant time slot. So here are a couple from today, exactly as recorded...

First, Grey Wagtail, with trickling river...


And Rock Pipit, complete with surging sea...


Both recordings are comfortably as loud as I would have expected, and detailed enough to get a decent spectrogram out of them. This is the Rock Pipit...

Rock Pipit calls. Unedited. The dense background noise is caused by the sea.

I am confident that the Zoom F1 performed as well as my H4n Pro would have done. So far I've had about seven hours of recording from the 2xAAA batteries in the F1, and the charge indicator is still on two bars. The H4n Pro would have been long dead by now.

I am using my EM272 mono clippy microphone, a quality item which retails at almost 50 quid. The F1 is supplied with a Zoom clippy mic. Is it any good?

Zoom clippy on the left, EM272 right.

I took both mics to the garden cabin and tried a side-by-side test. I positioned each in exactly the same spot - without wind shields of any kind - and played them a bit of half-volume bird song from the Collins Bird Guide app on my phone. Obviously the phone was positioned identically for each mic too. So here are some side-by-side spectrograms from that session...

Garden Warbler - Zoom mic on the left, EM272 mic on the right.

It is easy to see subtle differences, and the EM272 is clearly a bit more sensitive. Listening back, the EM272 recording has a 'fuller' sound as well - it just has an air of quality which the Zoom mic lacks.

Chiffchaff. Again, Zoom left, EM272 right.

Notice those high-frequency bits marked with the yellow arrow which the EM272 picks up but are missed by the Zoom. Again, the sensitivity differences are quite obvious.

In practice, the Zoom mic was fine really. Playing back the recordings and comparing them, yes, you could hear the subtle difference in quality, but to my ear the volume was pretty much identical. And obviously you could tell it was a Garden Warbler and Chiffchaff! Would the Zoom mic successfully have recorded the Grey Wag and Rock Pipit featured above? Definitely!

Incidentally, the horizontal aberrations on those comparison spectrograms never appear on recordings done in the field, and are no doubt a quirk of my phone's speaker or the Bird Guide recordings themselves.

So there we go. Just a quick 'first impressions' type review of the Zoom F1.

Someone on Bluesky asked what I use the recordings for. Good question. I would say that 99.99% of my recorded material is discarded, whether it is from the field or noc-mig. I save the occasional good bits, adding them to my little collection of bird recordings. Of course the main reason I record anything at all is in case a mega happens. My noc-mig recordings of Stone-curlew and Night Heron, for example, are as treasured as any photo.