Be Careful HOW You Read!

Somewhere, way off to the east of us, the Chiffchaff subspecies you probably know as Scandinavian Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita abietinus) peters out, and Siberian Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita tristis) takes over. Needless to say, there is no neat, crisply-defined border where abietinus ends and tristis begins. There is an overlap. A contact zone.

And this contact zone (and what goes on there) seems to be the mischievous cause of much of the apparent Sibe Chiff controversy. The unrestrained sexual activity of its Chiffy inhabitants appears to have messed with some of them, both their appearance and their voice, as well as producing all sorts of DNA-related subspecific identity issues.

So, how big a problem is this? Well, the range of tristis is vast. And so is the range of abietinus. So if the contact zone was, say, the size of your local Tesco car park, well, the problem would be microscopically small, wouldn't it?

In the web book Catching the Bug (2019) by Mark Constantine, Nick Hopper and The Sound Approach, there is a fascinating chapter (entitled 'Drab') about using song and calls to identify tristis Chiffs. It acknowledges that there are problematic birds in this contact zone, but then states that according to a study by Marova et al (2009) the contact zone is less than 65km wide, compared with the total east-west range of tristis of some 4000km, and proceeds to use this 'fact' as a basis to minimise the problem. In other words, think 'Tesco car park'.

I'll be honest here. I want to minimise the problem too! So I liked what I was reading. But just to be on the safe side I thought I should check that paper by Marova et al (2009) and see exactly what it said. Well, in searching for it I came instead upon this paper...

Marova et al (2017): 'Interaction between Common and Siberian Chiffchaff in a contact zone' 
Published in Ornis Fennica 94: 66–81. 2017

In the paper is a map, from which I've cropped this bit...

The contact zone is the grey shaded area in the middle

So, is that grey shaded area really less than 65km wide? No. A quick, and very rough, muck-about with Google Maps shows it to be a good 500km at its widest. Also, it's over 2000km long. That equates to very approximately the area of England, Scotland and Wales combined. Times two!

So my hopes of a Tesco car park scenario have been dashed. And it goes to show that what you read must not be taken for granted. Verify. Verify. Verify! I could so easily have repeated that 65km figure right here in NQS, in good faith, and inadvertently misled readers.

Anyway, if you fancy having your brain sucked from your head and liquidised, I heartily recommend that paper by Marova et al. Seriously, it is fascinating.

We read on...

The Expert View

Including the recent pair of birds at Kilmington WTW my winter tally of Siberian Chiffchaffs is now five. Or is it? Are these five birds actually Siberian Chiffchaffs? What exactly is a Siberian Chiffchaff? What about fulvesecens? Is a fulvescens a tristis? What about so-called 'intergrades'? And so on, ad nauseum. To be honest, reading about all this stuff could easily drive you nuts. Why? Because you are constantly presented with one expert view after another, and they don't all tally. So who is correct?

Here's a completely different scenario...

A golfer is standing by his ball in the middle of the fairway, trying to decide how far it is to the hole, and which club he will therefore need. He invites ten expert golfers to offer their opinion. All ten do the same thing. They peer towards the green, estimate the yardage to the hole and offer their view. Some reckon he'll need a six-iron, some a five-iron, one thinks he'll manage with a seven-iron, and so on. So, several different views. Another expert comes up, asks our friend how far he reckons he can hit a ball with each club, then takes a surveyors tape and measures the distance to the hole before offering his opinion. Which expert view would you take?

I am still mid-research with a lot of reading yet to do, but one thing I can say. When it comes to how a bird looks, well, the assessment of colour and tone is a bit subjective, and photographs may or may not tell you the truth. But there are a couple of things you can effectively 'measure', and would therefore seem to me more useful if you want to make an objective assessment. And they are DNA and sonograms. Going on what I've learned so far I would say all my pale and interesting Chiffs would likely return tristis DNA, and if I were to hear them call (just the one so far) and record it, the resulting sonogram would probably be a nice, almost-flat bar at around 4.5 kHz, which would match typical tristis.

I suppose my point is this. When gauging which expert view to listen to, ask yourself what it's based on. For example, how much 'measurement' has been involved, and how recently? Expert views change - or should do - when new criteria or data present themselves. Even our golfing expert with the tape would need to change his opinion if a monstrous headwind began to blow.

How are you on white-winged gulls? Not too tricky, you think? Allow me to present you with an expert view on the field identification of Iceland and Glaucous Gulls...

This is from the 1946 London Bird Report

So, in 1946 one expert view maintained that Iceland Gull was not reliably separable from Glaucous. I don't know how long that view held sway, but hands up who agrees with it now... What, nobody? Of course not. Since then much has been added to our collective knowledge, and it'll be a very rare occasion that the identity of a white-winger is not immediately apparent.

So far then, this is where I've got to...

Is the expert view based on something measurable?
Is it current?

Yes, and yes again? When it comes to expert views then, give that one, at least, some weight.

Fresh Approach For a New Decade

Twitter has been alive today with birdy reports about who has been where and seen what. Me? I had to wait until mid-afternoon for my chance to join the fray. I chose West Bexington, and walked W along the beach to the end of the mere, and back again, slowly...

The entrance to West Bex Nature Reserve is currently a wellies job. Or waders maybe...

I saw singles of Sparrowhawk, Red-throated Diver and Guillemot, 6 Great Crested Grebes, and many gulls. On the mere were Shovelers, Tufties, Teal, Gadwall and more gulls. Whenever I spotted a Med Gull I lingered for a few seconds, and was pleased to realise I've not quite relegated them to dross yet. Water Rails squealed, a Cetti's Warbler did its thing. All in all I was content with my little walk and its outcome.

What I didn't do was write anything down. Nor go out of my way to count anything. I had no expectations, but was happy just to be out there. Since rekindling some enthusiasm for this hobby I've been wondering what I can do to keep the fire burning a bit. Because I need an approach that is going to work long term...

Twitching is one approach. In my younger days I was a pretty keen twitcher. Despite many terrific birds, and a lot of fun, twitching all became a bit meaningless eventually, and is a rare thing today. So no, not twitching...

Another approach is local patching of course, and one that I have tried several times. But for some reason it has never kept me going long term. I'm not sure why. I like the idea of it, but many of the elements that patchers commonly employ to give depth and meaning to their local birding leave me cold. Various kinds of survey, for example. No thanks, I find it a chore. Diligent record-keeping and submission thereof. No thanks, and ditto. Even the simple act of listing doesn't do it for me...

Am I a lost cause? Maybe you've read that last paragraph and judged me a bit of a birding waster. No surveys? And what?! No records either?!! Well, I have tried both, and at one time would have championed the submission of records, but experience has taught me to go with what I've got, not what I would like to have. And though I would like to have that consciencious, contributing-type birder in me, he really isn't there. Sorry.

So what do I like? Well, I like this...

West Bexington this afternoon. Relative solitude.

I also like finding stuff. Now when it comes to finding good birds I know I am not the world's best, but when it does happen I love it. I love the thrill of it. By now most NQS readers will be aware that I love places that are off the beaten track too. I love the feeling that I'm on some kind of 'pioneer trail', even if that's just in my head.

Solitude. Finding stuff. The road less travelled. Put those three things together and what have you got? Possibly, hopefully, a recipe for birding longevity. I am dead fortunate to live in W Dorset. I am surrounded by acres and acres of barely-birded countryside and underwatched coast just begging to be exploited, and not constrained by the self-imposed limitations of a patch.

But am I just a selfish, birding hedonist? a NON-contributor? This thought has crossed my mind, but I am reassured by a couple of things, which I'll illustrate by relating a message that appeared on the Patch Birding WhatsApp group chat today. The gist of it was this:

Kilmington WTW: 100+ Pied Wags, 20 Chiffs, 1 Sibe Chiff, 1 Firecrest and some Goldcrests.

Someone else had visited Kilmington WTW on the strength of my visit yesterday, and scored. I was absolutely delighted to see this message, and (I think) for all the right reasons. Firstly, it felt great to have shared some good birds. If I hadn't visited yesterday, that wouldn't have happened. And secondly, it felt great to have promoted a good birding location, and particularly that one. When I first began birding in the Seaton area, Phil put me on to Kilmington. Apart from the sewage works, there was also a disused quarry that held the occasional Jack Snipe. So, originally Kilmington was part of the Axe patch. And then - around 2006 or so - we deliberately reduced the size of the 'official' patch, and Kilmington, as well as one or two other good spots, fell outside the boundary and have since received far less attention. My 2020 approach to birding is no longer fettered by the confines of a patch, or even a county, and a neglected spot like Kilmington WTW fills my needs perfectly.

Despite how I may come across, I do like to feel I have been helpful and enhanced someone else's birding experience in some way. And I'm hoping my fresh approach will occasionally allow me to feel I have in some way contributed, after all. So far, so good...

I Have a Problem

As I sit here typing this I should imagine that at least a few potential NQS readers are working their way boozily towards midnight. And what am I doing? I am seeing in the new decade by telling anyone who wants to listen about a sewage farm I visited today.

Very sad.

It's called Kilmington Wastewater Treatment Works, and it's a beauty...

Just look at all those old-school filter beds!

I previously mentioned Kilmington WTW in THIS recent post, and added that viewing was difficult and birds usually quite distant. Well, that was certainly the case back in the day, when I last visited. The only access in those prehistoric times was along the W side, and at the NW corner. But look at it now! There is a new cycle path all along the NE side. Fantastic! Access could hardly be better. I reckon it will probably be just like Colyton WTW, in that a good SW breeze will encourage birds into (and through) that hedge along the NE border. The wind was E or ENE today, so pretty rubbish really, but it was still tremendous winter birding, with literally hundreds of birds to enjoy and sort through.

The post title alludes to the slight addiction I seem to have right now when it comes to Chiffchaffs. More specifically, pale and interesting ones. Siberian ones. Initially today I had brief views of just one, and mainly quite distant views at that, but then chanced upon two together in low brambles next to the cycle path. Heaven! I managed three incredibly poor shots of one of them. Here's the best...

Very bad photo of a Siberian Chiffchaff.

I will visit again, and do better. But as a taster of what the potential might be, today was great. As well as the 2 Sibe Chiffs, there were at least 30+ regular Chiffies, 10+ Goldcrests, a Firecrest, a female Blackcap and a surprise Cetti's Warbler which, I can add, was a male. The Cetti's was very unexpected. I am used to them down on the coast, on the Axe Estuary and at Cogden and West Bexington, but Kilmington is on high ground, some 5 or 6 miles inland. Throw in 150+ Pied Wags, several Meadow Pipits, a pair of Bullfinches, some Chaffinches, etc, etc, and you can see why I was rather excited about the place. Among the Pied Wags I once again had what I am sure was a White Wag, but until I get some good photos/video it will have to remain the dodgy string that you probably think it is...

More than 130 Pied Wagtails. Noisy.

Anyway, this will definitely be my last post of the decade, of which there are only a few minutes left. So, see you next year my friends...

Black Redstart Meets Nikon P900

This afternoon I paid brief homage to one of the best-looking birds in Seaton, a spanking male Black Redstart. I would like to have stayed longer but there were already three camera-toting folks present when I arrived, and it felt uncomfortably like a twitch. Actually, not just a twitch. A photo-twitch. Not my cup of tea at all. Anyway, I thought Nikon P900 owners (or prospective owners) might like to see how I got on...

Here's a scenic shot of the location...

Seaton Hole. Black Redstart heaven.

A stepped pathway brings you down to the beach from above, and emerges where those signs are in the middle of the photo. I could see the bird on the rocks beneath the cliff, roughly where that chap now is on the right. So I walked along the lower tier of shingle to where you can see my scope and tripod in this shot; it's level with maybe a third of the way along the rocks. Meanwhile one tog marches straight along the top tier until he reaches the bird, and then lies prone with his legs down the slope. Amazingly the Black Redstart tolerated this liberty for several seconds, before coming my way.

Today I used my scope as a rest. I wound it up to a level where I could support the camera across it (not lengthwise) and use the eye viewfinder. In total I took 12 shots between 14:22:15 and 14:25:22, just over three minutes. The camera set-up was exactly as described in THIS post. In a sec I'll add my favourite four of that dozen. First though, a closer view of the scene...

At its closest, the bird was on those rocks to the right, so maybe 10-15m from me? When I took this photo it had flitted off along the beach to the left, in the direction that couple in blue are looking. Between their heads you might just about be able to see another tog (in camo top) following it down there...sigh!...which illustrates why I didn't want to stay.

Enough moaning. Results...

1600mm zoom, ISO 400, 1/100 sec

1600mm zoom, ISO 400, 1/80 sec

What an absolute stunner!! 1600mm zoom, ISO 400, 1/60 sec

1600mm zoom, ISO 400, 1/100 sec

Just to recap: in the settings I am using the camera automatically adjusts the ISO (up to a max of 400) and the shutter speed. All I do is choose the zoom, and I've already opened up the aperture as far as it will go (at 1600mm zoom that equates to f6.3). I appreciate that the quality of these photos is not quite DSLR standard, but personally I am delighted with them, and my wallet is still intact. The second one isn't as sharp as I'd like, but hey...

The Ups and Downs of Local

If you fancy a bit of solitary foot-slog with little or no chance of encountering other humans, the Dorset coast on a Sunday is probably not the place to go. So I didn't...

A few weeks ago I invested in the Ordnance Survey phone app, and this afternoon used it to find myself a footpath walk from home that would take me into the wilderness a bit. Our home is in Bradpole, on the NE outskirts of Bridport and just a few minutes from proper countryside. Bird-wise I had no expectations whatsoever, but obviously hoped for some interest. Here's my route...

The route (in red) is nearly all footpath or bridleway. The coloured stars all have birdy significance...

If you follow the route in the clockwise direction I took, you will quickly spot the purple star. This was the first birdy surprise. Nothing that special, but 5 Meadow Pipits in the grassy field there was still nice, and an excuse to fire up the camera...

Meadow Pipit. Straight off the camera, untouched. 1600mm of zoom, hand-held. ISO 400, 1/250 sec, exposure bias -0.3. To make life simple I took the focus and exposure off the fence post, not the bird.

Same again, tinkered with. Good enough for me.

Shortly before the northernmost point of the route I came across a good-sized flock of Redwings, certainly 50+ birds. Very flighty, as per normal, but still worth a photo I thought...

From where I was standing I certainly wouldn't have known if one of these Redwings had actually been a Black-throated Thrush, but the camera would... Full zoom, hand-held, 1/160 sec.

The red star is next to a little lake which I'd never come across before. No surprise that there were a few Mallards, but I was pretty amazed to see a pair of Tufties also...

Smart drake Tufted Duck. 1500mm zoom, and just 1/60 sec shutter speed. Camera supported on fence post.

On my old Seaton patch a pair of Tufties would have been quite notable. Perhaps they're notable here as well? I don't know. Basically I know next-to-nothing about my local birds, and that really hit home this afternoon. As I toddled along, wondering if this stream might hold Dipper, or those hedges might harbour Yellowhammers, I genuinely had no idea whether or not such musings were realistic. If I'm honest I was mostly disappointed at the apparent lack of birds. For example, at one point (on the RHS of the map) the footpath went across an open field (where it was totally unmarked!) and beneath a line of pylons. I took a couple of photos...

I don't know exactly what crop I was walking through, but the stuff seemed lifeless, and the whole area rather sterile...

These fizzing, crackling monsters are such a blight.

Anyway, no Dipper or Yellowhammers. And I was almost back at the starting point when I got my final surprise. Here the path runs along the edge of a field, separated from the adjoining road just by a hedge. Unexpectedly I flushed a Snipe, then 11 more, and then another single, straight off the weedy path. I certainly would not have predicted that.

In addition to the above I saw or heard 3 Green Woodpeckers and a couple of Nuthatches, but little else made me go "Oh, that's nice..." Quite interesting though, and I will try it again one day. A different route. I can highly recommend the OS app; it was invaluable. Some of our local footpaths are marked very poorly indeed, or not at all, and without the app I certainly wouldn't have had the confidence to go steaming diagonally across a crop field.

I'm no different to most birders I guess, and focus 99% of my effort on places where it's obvious there will be good birding (that's 'good' in a local context of course) while completely ignoring enormous swathes of surrounding countryside. While I fear that much of that surrounding countryside might well be an ecological desert, surely some of it isn't...?

Nikon Coolpix P900. Hand-Held Full Zoom Stuff.

Had time for a decent outing this afternoon, so I headed for the Abbotsbury beach car park. Initially I ventured E to overlook the Swannery, then back again and off towards E Bexington. I wasn't expecting much, but it was just so good to be out again at last. Scoping the Swannery from Chesil Beach was quite enjoyable. If there had been any Scaup I think I might have scored today, because the Aythya ducks were not too distant. However, I did experience gull envy on a grand scale. There were stacks, mostly far, far away. I stopped counting Med Gulls when I got to 100, and mainly concentrated on trying to find a white-winger amongst the big gulls. The thought of picking up a possible Casp at that range was not appealing. A nice surprise was a Chiffchaff foraging by the tank teeth.

Heading back towards the car park and beyond, I had in mind the subject of a comment on the recent Nikon P900 post...

Hi there, I had made the decision not to upgrade to the P900 as I had heard that at full zoom you would need a tripod. Carrying a tripod around with me whilst birding is not my cup of tea so I would be grateful to hear how you managed at full zoom. Thanks, Sam

I decided to just take a few shots at full zoom and post them here with some thoughts...

First off, what is 'full zoom'? I am going to assume we're talking full optical zoom only, ie, 2000mm (35mm format equivalent) and not straying into digital zoom at all. Let's be straight. 2000mm is an absolutely monstrous telephoto lens. It's basically the magnification equivalent of what you see through a 40x scope. That fact puts Sam's query into perspective. Can you imagine using a 40x scope without a tripod? I once made the schoolboy error of going to Scilly with my old 27x scope attached to a shoulder pod, and left my tripod in Penzance. It was dire...

Anyway, enough talk. Here's a shot I took this afternoon, just for demonstration purposes. It is hand-held, at full zoom. Apart from the appended 'properties', the photo is exactly as it came off the camera. No processing at all...

Stonechat. Hand-held @2000mm zoom. Afterwards I paced it out. 35 big strides is approximately 35 metres.

 
The shutter speed was 1/100 second. That is pretty slow. If that was a Siberian Stonechat and I was in need of some record shots I would be perfectly satisfied with that. Here it is again after a bit of cropping and tweaking...

It's not going to win any awards, but it'll do.

When hand-holding the camera I use the eye viewfinder, grip the camera with my right hand - my left cupping the lens - and press it to my face pretty firmly. I then stop breathing and allow my heart-rate to slow to 50. I will have reached the required level of immobility within 30 seconds...or blacked out.

Okay, just the first sentence.

When it comes to camera shake, here's the reality of what we're dealing with, roughly speaking...

At 2000mm of optical zoom, I reckon the camera's objective lens (front) and sensor (back) are very approximately 20cm apart . So if your shaking hand moves the lens 1/10 of a millimetre in relation to the sensor, that translates to a movement of 17.5mm at 35m, or 175mm at 350m. To put it simply, a tiny movement of the lens becomes a big movement of the bird, and the further away the bird is, the worse the effect.

And let's say that 1/10 of a millimeter shake takes 1/100 of a second to complete. When you fire the camera's shutter, what chance has it got of freezing a movement of 17.5mm at 35m range? Or a mahoosive 175mm at 350m? Even if that shake is much slower - say 1/10 of a second - the bird is still moving across your lens at a heck of a rate.

Which is why any kind of support is preferable to 100% hand-held I think. That said, I am sure you will agree that the above photo of our Stonechat is pretty acceptable at a pinch. Rubbish light, 35m range, 1/100 of a second exposure.

Remember how camera shake is amplified by distance? These gulls were at least 80-100m away...

Totally hand-held. Straight off the camera. 2000mm zoom, 1/125 sec, ISO 400

Cropped, unsaturated a little, sharpened. Obviously I was focusing on the Med Gull.

I did take several pics of the gulls, and they're mostly of this kind of quality. A few duffers though, and the moral is: if you are forced to use full zoom, hand-held only, take a lot of shots. I think I'd apply that rule whatever the shutter speed, but especially when slow.

By way of comparison, the following were taken with a decent support. My scope is a Nikon ED82A with soft, stay-on case, mounted on a Manfrotto tripod. What I do is point the scope at the bird and lie the camera lengthwise along the scope. I have the tilt adjuster fairly stiff, pan adjuster fairly slack. Not being a contortionist, I use the fold-out viewing screen to compose the picture. It all works fine. By the way, if you don't carry a scope use a fence post, gate, rock, passer-by. I intend to make myself a bean-bag for such eventualities. I think it will help.

All images cropped and tweaked. The Stonechats were probably a lttle closer than the first Stonechat pic, the Great Black-backs a bit further away. All at full 2000mm zoom, resting on scope.

ISO 400, 1/100 sec

ISO 400, 1/100 sec

ISO 400, 1/250 sec

ISO 400, 1/250 sec

I'm no bird photographer, but as a birder with a camera I am perfectly happy with those. My previous experience with the Lumix Fz38 (with 1.7x converter, by the way) had already taught me that the modern 'Vibration Reduction' (or 'Image Stabilising') technology does a pretty amazing job, but that a firm support helps enormously if you can wangle it somehow. And if you can, it is simply amazing how low a shutter speed you can get away with, and still wind up with a decent photo.

So, Sam, many thanks for your comment, and for prompting me to put this post together. I hope that it helps with your query.

One thing on my photographic to-do list is Birds in Flight. Still, one step at a time...

Having said that, four days ago the NQS household found itself talked into a quick late-afternoon walk at E Bexington, whereupon 3 Black Swans flew past, heading for Abbotsbury Swannery no doubt. I spotted them when they were level with us, whipped out the camera, zoomed it straight to 800mm and got three shots. Here are the first and the third...

800mm zoom, ISO 320, 1/500 sec

3 Black Swans with Portland Bill as a backdrop. Dorset birding at its best.
800mm zoom, ISO 320, 1/500 sec.