A Day of Idling

This morning I had a seawatch planned, but when the alarm went off nothing happened. Well, things did happen, but none of them was consistent with getting to Burton Bradstock nice and early. Tomorrow maybe...

As I sat in cozy warmth, munching toast and drinking coffee, hardier birders than me were out there braving the frigid air and seeing stuff. Steve had 3 Eiders fly E past Seaton (they later went past the Bill at Portland) while Mike and Alan turned up a Little Ringed Plover on the Mere at West Bex. Finally, just before ten o'clock, I arrived at Cogden. Blue sky, a brisk, chilly north-easterly. It was beautiful...but didn't look very birdy. By lunchtime my notes told me I'd seen 3 Wheatears, 1 Cirl Bunting, 2 House Martins, 1 Sand Martin, 1 Little Ringed Plover, 4 White Wags, 2 Swallows and a Red-throated Diver. Superb! By now the Cogden car park was almost full, and I was happy to head for home.

There was an afternoon of gardening planned, but when I stepped outside nothing happened. Well, things did happen, but none of them was consistent with getting compost into pots. Instead I settled down comfortably in the garden's prime sun trap and spent an idle time scanning a virtually birdless blue sky. Absolutely no raptors flew over. The compost bags stared at me reprovingly, so I moved them slightly.

Some pics...

Plenty of female Cirl Bunting ID features on display here: the rump, the ear covert spot, the streaky crown etc. It's great to have at least one bird locally still, but with no male presumably it will move off soon.

The LRP was on what remains of the Mere, with 4 super-smart White Wagtails. To be honest the wagtails were quite a distraction; I do find them so captivating. Not only are they stunning to look at - and especially so when bright sunshine brings out their lovely plumage - but they are just such busy little things...

White Wagtail - just immaculate!

Same bird

I am so chuffed with that first shot, and will be very surprised if I ever get a better photo of White Wagtail. And it gives me an opportunity to share a tip (though admittedly an obvious one) with other Nikon P900 users. My default 'U mode' settings include 'Single Exposure', ie. when you press the shutter button you get one shot. However, when confronted with a bird that is continuously on the move (like the White Wags) I generally switch to 'High Speed Burst'. Depending how long you press the shutter button, you now get from 2 to 7 shots. DSLR users always have that rapid-fire thing going on, but with the P900 you do have to wait a few seconds for the camera to process a multi-image exposure, so I use it judiciously. However, it can be well worth the bother. That first White Wag shot is one of a burst of three. I know the bird looks like it's standing still, posing, but it's not. No, it's very much on the go, and the other two shots are rubbish!

This tip is also very useful if you're trying to photograph a stationary bird that is constantly turning its head. Or if you want to capture that moment when a gull finally opens its wings! And so on. For those who like to fiddle with their P900 settings, I have the single/multi-exposure choices stored on the 'function' (Fn) button. All I need to do is press it, drop down one step on the list (H) and that's it, I'm in high-speed multi-exposure mode.

While I'm at it, if any readers are still in the early stages of getting to grips with a camera like the Coolpix P900, I'll briefly mention 'exposure compensation'. On a bright day like today I habitually use anything up to -1.0 exposure compensation. Otherwise there is a real danger that your photo's 'highlights' (ie. white bits mainly) will be too bright and get burned out. If the resulting image does end up a touch dark, it's dead easy to brighten it up with simple photo-editing software. But I've learned the hard way that it's not so easy (or impossible) to recover blown highlights.

Right, sorry for that little digression. Have a Little Ringed Plover...

What a cracker! Look at that eye-ring!

Nicely shows the LRP's attenuated rear end

Even common birds have their moments...

This Yellowhammer is just ridiculously yellow!

In a minute I'm going to step outside and deploy the nocmig kit. When I did that last night I had the most unexpected surprise - I could hear a Red-legged Partridge 'singing' in the distance! I would never have predicted getting Red-leg on the garden list, and before it went quiet I just managed to capture a short burst on the recorder. Never a dull moment with birds...

April Begins Well

On my way to work this morning I stopped off at a coastal hamlet called Seatown. The place has been on my radar for a while, and indeed I have had a little dabble once or twice. Plans to do some regular early-morning sessions there last spring were thwarted by a microscopic pathogen, but 2021 gives me a fresh opportunity. So I arrived about 07:15 and walked down to the sea...

Looking W towards Golden Cap...

...and the view E. Notice total absence of people.

I had a good old scan around, but there was nothing much to see. Back at the car park I decided to try heading up the hill to the east first. This is all going to be very exploratory; I have no idea whether or not there are any good spots. A small bird flew across the hillside from my right. As I checked it out I knew it was going to be a Meadow Pipit, until I noticed its unexpectedly red tail! Landing briefly in a bush, it was clearly a female type Black Redstart. It rapidly flicked away inland and out of sight, but the impression made by its almost subliminal performance was profound. Literally the very first bird I had raised my bins to look at turned out to be a classy little migrant. Is Seatown trying to tell me something...?

In the brisk NE wind I poked around for a bit more than an hour, adding 2 Sand Martins, 2 Chiffs and a Blackcap. Not much, but it's a start.

Some more views...

Seatown is basically a few houses, a pub and a holiday park, all nestling in a small valley. Look at those lovely primroses on the left. It really is very picturesque. And quiet.

Plenty of scrubby habbo. Looks ace.

As far as I'm aware, this place is not birded on a regular basis, if at all. Chideock sewage works is just inland, and I've seen Sibe Chiff and Firecrests there, but other than that it's all a bit of an unknown quantity. When I first moved to the southwest I was amazed at how much of the coast is totally neglected. Sure, there are hotspots which are well-watched, but countless locations hardly ever see a birder. The potential is obvious.

By 08:30 I was on my way to work, and apart from a couple of dog walkers and runners I hadn't seen another soul. Anyway, my intention is to make it a regular part of my pre-work agenda. We'll see how it goes...

After work I had time for a West Bex to East Bex walk. Highlights in pictorial form...

Painted Lady at the old coastguard cottages. A bit early? Now you see me...

...and now you don't. The cryptic version.

When it comes to matters lepidopteral I am not very knowledgeable, but I wouldn't have expected to see Painted Lady on April 1st. In spring it's a butterfly I associate with May, and probably late May at that. Someone on Twitter mentioned the possibility of it being released rather than of natural occurance, which hadn't occured to me. I guess that happens a lot with butterflies, which must take the shine off many 'unusual' sightings. Ah well, it was very smart all the same.

At this point I had seen very little bird-wise. That soon changed...

A pukka spring gem - White Wagtail

They are so hard to photograph. Constantly on the go. Just look at it though! Stunning!

A different bird (I saw 4+ in total)

Lots of pale grey rump on view between the wings

Irresistable. A cracking male Wheatear.

This was one of three males together. It had noticeably whiter underparts than the other two.

Same individual. So handsome.

At West Bex I ended up with 5 Wheatears, 4+ White Wags, 17 singing Chiffs, 4 singing Blackcaps and a Swallow. East Bex produced a couple of Sandwich Terns fishing close in, and another Swallow. Lovely stuff.

Today's Birds

If the weather forecast is anything to go by, I have a funny feeling there are going to be a lot of birds over the next few days. So in order to avoid too much of a backlog, here's a quick post of today's bits and bobs.

The pre-work walk...

When it comes to Wheatear perches, as long as it has a bit of elevation - no matter how slight - they're not fussy...

It might be a pretty lump of beautiful holiday park...

...a hefty lump of weathered concrete...

...a nasty lump of black stuff...

...a ubiquitous lump of fence...

...a pungent lump of poop...

...or...yes...upright wood again.

Best morning yet for Wheatears. I counted a minimum of eight. Even better for Swallows, with at least 22 being my first of the year; they were coasting west in little parties from just after first light. With a couple of Chiffs in the beach-side bushes, it was obvious that birds were arriving in numbers this morning. It's all beginning to happen...

Then it was off to work for me.

Obviously there was lunchtime though...

There were lots of gulls to go through on the Axe Estuary. Unfortunately the dual problems of harsh sunlight and heat-haze made things tricky, but Steve had an absolutely gorgeous 1st-winter Caspian Gull on Saturday, so I was inspired to keep at it. And I'm glad I did. An immature gull on the water caught my eye. It was bathing vigorously, and although the bright sunshine made it difficult to be sure, the upperparts seemed a tad darker than Herring Gull. As I watched, a foot came out of the water, and I could swear it had a yellow tinge. I reached for my camera, turned back...and it had gone. A few minutes later I found it again, still on the water but much further upstream. And again I lost it! Finally I picked it up one more time, moments before it flew to the far bank. The flight views confirmed my suspicions: a 2nd-summer Yellow-legged Gull, which I'm pretty sure is a new plumage for me. A rather striking combination of grey, adult-like mantle, full black tail-band and bright yellow bill. Lots of grey wing coverts too, and inner primaries. Due to the long range and heat-haze, my pics really don't do justice to this very smart gull...

Even though it's only a relatively young 2nd-summer bird, it already has a strong yellow tinge to the legs - compare with nearby Herring Gulls.

Lots of grey wing coverts on view there. Very advanced plumage when compared to a Herring Gull of similar age.

Okay, it's not a Caspian Gull, but it kept me happy.

In the distance I spotted a dark thing among the gulls...

Brent Geese are very small aren't they?

I do like Wheatears. It's unlikely I'll get bored with them any time soon, and I find it almost impossible to resist their come-hither gaze as they sit sexily upon some elevated lump of stuff. Expect lots more photos...

Rockits

It's ages since I've seen a nice Scandinavian Rock Pipit (Anthus petrosus littoralis) so when a handful were reported locally yesterday I earmarked the latter part of this afternoon to go and have a look for them. When I was an Axe patch regular we used to get them wintering on the upper estuary saltmarsh, and I assume that's still the case. However, there was a catch. In winter plumage they are not safely separable on plumage from the British race A p petrosus. Well, I say that...

Because of the Axe birds, some years ago I read everything I could find on the identification of littoralis Rock Pipits. At the time it appeared there was no 100% reliable way to identify them in winter; there is simply too much overlap with petrosus. [This may no longer be the case, and if that is so I would be very grateful to be pointed at the relevant paper/literature.] So on the Axe we basically had to wait until late February and March, when our upper estuary Rock Pipits began to don the summer garb of the Scandinavian subspecies, becoming less streaky below, and developing a greyer head and a warm, pinkish flush to the throat/upper breast. Based on the fact that this happened every year, I guess you could identify the winter birds as littoralis too, circumstantially anyway. I'll be honest though - I was never completely happy about that. We frequently had a wintering population of 10 or 15 birds, but personally I never saw anything like that many spring-plumaged individuals. Therefore I always felt it was an over-generous extrapolation to assume the whole lot were littoralis. However, that's because I'm a bit pedantic, and I'll freely admit that the birds present throughout the winter probably all were (and still are!) Scandinavian Rock Pipits.

Anyway, as I say, it's been many years since I've seen one of these striking spring birds and I was dead keen to reacquaint myself with the plumage. I headed out and scoured the area, eventually finding six birds - a single, and five together. Unfortunately, all I can say is that they were Rock Pipits, because none was showing the hoped-for signs of summery loveliness. Still, they're characterful little things, and if you sit still in the grass they prod about quite happily nearby. A few shots, showing at least three of the group of five...

Bird 1

Bird 1

Bird 1

Bird 2

Bird 2

Bird 3 - this one has a noticeably paler lower mandible than the two above.

The other two were a bit more distant and my photos aren't worth the bother, so instead have this friendly Pied Wagtail...

I counted at least 23 Pied Wags, with one or two quite 'moulty' like this bird. Unfortunately there were no White Wagtails among them.

Oops! I got so wrapped up in this post that I didn't notice the time. It's got dark, and I haven't yet deployed the nocmig kit...

Right. Sorted. Any long-term NQS readers will be aware that my fascination with nocmig began during last year's lockdown. At the time my approach was one of 'suck it and see', but well, I'm hooked now. So much so that I've splashed out a bit just recently...

New microphone! Below is my £25 cheapie; above is my new toy, which cost...er...more than that.

My recorder has the facility to run two mics simultaneously, so for a few nights I've been doing that. The results are quite eye-opening. More in a future post...

A Lovely Little Seawatch

I've written before about the reality of Lyme Bay seawatching, and what a slow game it usually is. Even when the weather looks promising - like today - you turn up all keen and eager, then spend the next hour slowly losing the will to live. As I walked to my seawatching spot at Cogden this morning I was already resigned to disappointment. Yep, it was going to be rubbish.

How I love to be proved wrong...

It was terrific. Right from the off, a steady parade of Gannets (500+) and Kittiwakes (276) meant there was almost always something to look at. Variety came in the shape of 12 Manx Shearwaters, 3 Red-throated Divers, 13 Common Scoters, 6 Guillemots (the only auks close enough to identify) and singles of Oystercatcher, Med Gull and Sandwich Tern. And it wasn't all about quantity. There was also some excellent quality...

First, there was the super little flock of four Eiders which suddenly appeared in my eyepiece, bobbing on the sea. I didn't see them arrive, nor did I see them leave. But leave they did, being spotted by other seawatchers east of me and eventually rounding the Bill at Portland. Three drakes (two adults, one immature) and a female. Excellent.

However, the best bird of the morning had already passed, though I wasn't to know it for sure just yet...

About 07:40 I picked up four ducks heading west. They weren't close, but it was obvious enough that three were Common Scoters. As they went by I zoomed in a bit to try and nail the fourth bird, a browner thing. Possibly a touch smaller than the Scoters, its pale belly had been apparent immediately. The default brown, pale-bellied duck of that size is probably a female Wigeon, but I wasn't convinced.

I guess it's possible that one or two NQS readers have never tried seawatching. It is quite hard to describe what it's like to try and identify a speeding blob as it hurtles past over a heaving sea, perhaps disappearing in troughs at times. Can you picture it? Occasionally online you come across photos that have been taken at popular seawatching spots. Maybe a diver, a skua, or as in this case, a small flock of ducks. Birds in such photos might be small, but are usually well lit and crisply rendered. So maybe you're thinking that's what you see through the scope? Well, it isn't. For starters, the blasted things are belting along like rockets, their wings a blurry mess. Just keeping the bird in view is a major challenge, and no matter how smoothly you pan, it's probably leaping back and forth all over your retina. They do not pose. Somehow your eye needs to do what a camera does, and capture frozen images - make static what is all too dynamic. Not easy at half a mile range or more. Basically you wind up with a series of impressions that need instantly to be compared with what you know, the field guide in your head. This morning I had: very pale belly, probably white, and more extensive than Wigeon; largely pale rear end; dark uppers and wings, seemingly unmarked; darkish head, contrasting with the white belly. What fitted that lot? I could only think of Long-tailed Duck. So I sent a message on the local WhatsApp group:

'Possible LTD W with 3 Scoter'

About 35 minutes later they flew past Seaton seafront, close enough to clinch the odd one out. It was indeed a female/immature type Long-tailed Duck. I was so chuffed! They are not at all common down here. In fact it's the first I've seen since one at Branscombe and Seaton in November 2007, and my first ever on a local seawatch. Mega!

A bit later I saw my first two [definite] Sand Martins of the year, and a Brent Goose flew past...

Just like one of those seawatching photos. Sort of.  Brent Goose of the dark-bellied kind.

Fine By Me...

Laughing Gull is a hard act to follow, and so it has proved. The past week's birding has mostly been a series of nice walks. Which is fine. After all, red-letter days need to be just that, don't they?

Even the photos are a bit so-so...

A local Greenfinch attempting gravitas.

Sunny Portland, from cloudy West Bexington.

Jay, from the living room window. A house photographic first, in a tenth-rate sort of way.

I've been keeping a 2021 Garden List, but adding to it has been like pulling teeth. Excluding the nocmig-only birds it has stagnated at a paltry 36. Heard-only Tawny Owl is the most recent addition. However, my commitment level is not what it was 12 months ago, when lockdown really meant lockdown. Even so, curiosity will make me keep it going.

Curiosity is probably what's making me bother with a local list too. Considering the potential, my current total of 98 is a bit poor but probably an accurate reflection of effort. I mean, any diligent lister would have seen Goldcrest months ago, right?

Still, despite my rather slack work ethic I've managed to learn a couple of things this year. For example, I can now do distant female Cirl Bunting on pretty rubbish binocular views...

This female Cirl Bunting was both distant and partially obscured, but that bright pale spot on the ear coverts is a dead giveaway. Since January 1st I've been carefully checking any streaky female Yellowhammer types, and they never seem to show it. At range it is easily the most obvious feature. I don't suppose it's diagnostic, but any bird which has it most definitely wants checking further!

My current Wheatear tally is six. This morning I saw my first female, but the photos are dire, so have some males instead...

The next week's weather forecast holds little promise of a migrant influx, so I guess it'll still be a case of simply enjoying a pleasant walk in beautiful surroundings and taking whatever comes. That's fine by me.

Laughing!

Days like today don't happen often, so it's very nice when they do...

It started well. I was up and out more or less when planned, and the weather promising. A clear sky isn't normally great for dropping migrants on the coast, but a light northerly helps. Wheatear-wise I was very hopeful. However, the outward leg of my walk produced none. Never mind, they might still be mid-Channel maybe...

Arriving at the Mere I spied a distant wader on the far side. It was a Knot. The first of the year for Bex - and probably my first ever locally - so I made an effort to get some nice Knot shots...

One Knot, in searingly beautiful winter plumage

Mike arrived from the opposite direction. We sat on the shingle, chatting about this and that, with me hunched over the camera, preoccupied with the spangly wader. Some gulls dropped in, one of them flying through my shot as I pressed the shutter release, ruining my work of art. I tutted, and seconds later Mike quietly said something like, 'GOODNESS ME! LAUGHING GULL!' One of the small group of new arrivals was indeed a stonking Laughing Gull! At 08:16:44 I was photographing a Knot; exactly 30 seconds later, this...

Laughing Gull. Rose. Thorns.

Admittedly that wasn't the first photo I took. But the above is far preferable to the desperate, back-on, in-case-it-flies type capture which occurred at 08:17:14. Here are some other nice ones...

Vestiges of a black tail band, black on the primary coverts etc, indicates a 2nd-winter bird

What a bird! It was present for 43 minutes, until flushed by a passing Marsh Harrier (also my first of the year) whereupon it decamped to some distant sheep fields up on the ridge.

This beaut lays to rest a painful dip back in my Axe patch days. Must have been about 2007, and a bird which frequented the Exmouth area at the time paid Seaton a brief visit during some rough weather. Steve found it off the seafront, but it had seemingly vanished when I went to look. And then Ian M saw it later on. That hurt. I am pretty certain this is only my second-ever Laughing Gull; my first was in (or near) the grounds of Newcastle Hospital in early 1985 or '86. So-o-o-o...

Yesssss!!!

This is the same Laughing Gull that Steve Groves found at Abbotsbury Swannery last Wednesday, and which has since favoured the Weymouth area. I am very grateful to it for coming this way. And Mike even more so I think.

Is it possible to trudge jauntily? Because I'm sure that's what I did next. I trudged jauntily through the shingle, back to where I started. And waiting for me there were two of these...

Immaculate male Wheatear.

Just look at it! Spring perfection on legs

So yeah. A good day. A very good day.