2021 - Lazy Review

I went fishing today (3 small Grayling) and this evening had a catch-up scroll through Twitter. It is stiff with end-of-year birdy tweets. Lots of 2021 highlights/summaries, and plenty of 2022 statements of intent. I am too lazy to follow that lead, so here is a quick blog post instead.

Favourite Bird

Er...probably this one...

Cogden's Greenland Redpoll

Confiding, tricky, and massively under-appreciated. I loved it. I can think of several other birds which for different reasons were also favourites, but if I had to pick one...

Favourite Find

No contest: Tree Cricket! Discovering a little colony of Tree Crickets at West Bexington was brilliant fun. Also tricky; also massively under-appreciated.

Melodious Warbler was great, but too brief and uncooperative. Caspian Gull was great, but - to my shame - identified after the fact. Stone-curlew was simply great - excellent adrenaline rush, and stayed long enough for Mike and Alan to enjoy too, but Tree Cricket still topped it.

Favourite Cock-up

Again, no contest: Peregrine Falcon. A serious dose of the shakes with that one. And I wonder how many other birders in 2021 managed to turn a Peregrine into a BirdGuides Mega-Alert for a few hours?

Favourite Non-Orthopteran Insect Find

Female Lesser Emperor. Tough competition from Cogden Chalk Hill Blue, Lulworth Skipper and Southern Migrant Hawker, but the Lesser Emperor wins it. Insects were an unexpected delight throughout the summer, and three of that lot were lifers. I hope insects feature again in 2022.

Favourite Wheeze

A clear winner...

Just a couple of sea anglers going about their everyday angling business, right? Look closely.

I see a lot of sea anglers along the Chesil Beach, but this is the first time I've seen anyone do this...

Why bother risking a pulled muscle from that pendulum cast with triple salchow and flip, when there is a far more relaxed way?

Yep, she held the rod and spooled out line while he piloted the bait out towards the French coast.

Favourite Plan

The one for tomorrow. Tomorrow I will step out of the door and walk. I will take my bins, my camera, some refreshments, and I will look at birds all day. And that's it.

If you have got this far, thank you for reading. Throughout 2021 this blog has been a pleasure to write, and knowing that people read it is surprisingly gratifying. All the best for 2022...

Keeping the Flame Alight

Exactly one year ago I spent the whole day fishing for Grayling on the River Frome. Blissful solitude and a few fish. Commitments this year dictated that I went yesterday instead. One other angler, a friendly 75 year-old. It rained a lot. I only caught one small Grayling, and got very wet. There were a few out-of-season Sea Trout though...

Small sample of solid silver Sea Trout

A pound and a half or so, and a bit more colourful

As a boy, fishing held a fascination I now find difficult to describe and impossible to recapture. While the adult me is equally content to spend hours attempting to extract some gleaming bar of wonder from its inaccessible world, to marvel at it for a moment, then slip it back, in my memory the boyhood version was so much more consumed by the whole experience. Now, I feel a little detached somehow. Like a grown-up in a childhood playground...

Still, I would like one day to catch a Grayling of 2lb or more, and the Frome certainly contains such fish. The chap I spoke to yesterday has caught three of that size in the last two months. I shall try again.

Interestingly, though I find it difficult to completely lose myself in fishing these days, birding is a different matter. And I see no danger of imminent phasing. The approach I've adopted this past couple of years has worked well for me. Its efficacy shows no sign of waning, so I shall stick with what seems a winning formula.

There are so many ways to 'go birding'. I follow a lot of birders on Twitter, and their various approaches probably embrace most of the obvious options. Some are basically glued to a patch, and rarely if ever go anywhere else except on holiday. Some travel a great deal, and every well-publicised rarity will at some stage appear on their Twitter output. Some are very focused on record keeping: BirdTrack, eBird, every BTO survey type thing going. Some are clearly very social creatures, and friends feature regularly. Some concentrate on photography, or sound recording, or specialise in certain species or species groups. Though I obviously cannot say for sure, I assume that these various approaches 'do it for them' as individuals, and they find the fulfilment they need.

Having struggled over the years - often unsuccessfully - to maintain enthusiasm for birding, I am quite conscious of that need for fulfilment, and pander to it all the time now. The best thing I ever did for it was remove the notion of 'boundaries' to my birding. Looking back, it was like taking off a straitjacket. Almost all my birding is still local, but now so unconstrained that calling anywhere my 'patch' feels quite fraudulent. That said, apart from work (which takes me to Seaton and the Axe Estuary) I am nearly always within 10km of home. This map pretty much covers it...

I live in Bridport (just left of centre)

So I'm a local birder, but don't have a patch. I count stuff sometimes and, after years of not bothering, now submit records again. I do not do any surveys of any sort - I have tried it and hated it. I do not chase lists any more - I have tried it and hated it. I rarely do company, much preferring solitude. I rarely twitch anything these days, though local birds have tempted me once or twice. However, if you met me in the field I do hope you would not think 'Strewth! This bloke is one miserable, non-conformist old so-and-so', but rather that I left a somewhat better impression! Anyway, this approach works for me. It keeps me sane and happy, and keeps me birding.

Finally, in this rambling post, I must mention something which caught my eye recently, and which seems to mesh nicely with my currently successful approach to birding...

#LocalBigYear - an initiative launched by Birdwatch magazine

It was so good to see an influential, mainstream publication say this:

Importantly, reducing our annual mileage has clear benefits for the heath of our planet. We must all look for ways to reduce our carbon footprint - and a greater focus on local birding is a fine way of doing just that, especially if you can do much of it on foot or by bike.

Best of all, there are no strict rules. Local just means local. Yay! No boundaries! There are prizes for local find of the year, local inland find of the year, local birding moment of the year and garden bird of the year. But nothing for big lists. Yay! No listing! There is a prize for green twitch of the year, but nothing to encourage fossil fuel excess. It sounds like something I could easily get involved in, without endangering my state of birdy zen.

Down on the Farm

Before moving here in 2002 I never gave a lot of thought to farmland and how it is used. I do now. Between every local town and village are great swathes of the stuff. Obviously I know very little about the nuts and bolts of farming, or what it takes to make a farm profitable, but I can see easily enough the impact that East Devon/West Dorset farming practice in general has had on the countryside. And it ain't good. Acres and acres of ecological desert. During the various lockdowns I made a conscientious effort to get out in the local farmland to see what I could find in the way of birds and other wildlife. Most of the time it was depressing in the extreme. I'm not going to go on about it here though, because let's face it, what's the point? And anyway, for once I actually have a good news tale about farmland...

A couple of weeks ago I heard about a decent flock of Bramblings and other finches, not far from Bridport. The only clue was that they were feeding on sunflowers. A bit of detective work suggested where I ought to look, and this morning was the first chance I've had to follow up my hunch. I parked up just a few miles from home, and then walked through the farmland on public rights of way. Apart from some distant shooting and a chainsaw or something, it was dead quiet, and there was a noticeable lack of livestock. However there were a few birds, and eventually I stumbled upon a small flock of Bramblings...

Bramblings. There were 8-10 others with these two.

At this point I had seen no sunflowers, but it felt like I was getting warm. Sure enough, not too much further on was a field full of them. And a swirling mass of finches...

Mostly Linnets here, a fraction of the 400+ present.

Hundreds of Linnets, Goldfinches and Chaffinches; lots of Greenfinches and many Bramblings, plus at least two Reed Buntings and a helping of House Sparrows. What a wonderful display! Birds were clearly focused on the sunflowers, but spreading further afield too. I almost forgot to mention a lovely flock of 40+ Stock Doves also. Elsewhere I encountered Redwings and Fieldfares - including a flock of 50+ of the latter - as well as a couple of Grey Wagtails and a Jay. It was so refreshing to come across farmland with loads of actual birds in it!

Best of all I met the farmer - a really friendly bloke - who sketched out their eco-friendly plans for the place now that they've left dairy behind. It sounded marvellous! I shall certainly be back. Often, probably.

A few pics...

House Sparrows and Chaffinch. Spot the Brambling!

Great to see so many Greenfinches (and another lurking Brambling)

Bramblings again

Such a lovely sight!

Fieldfare being typically coy. Amazed it tolerated me this close.

In many ways, the best part of today's little outing was how unexpectedly well my effort was rewarded. Bird-wise I have come to expect very little of the local farmland. Or rather, nothing. Because it seems almost universally dire. This was such a delight, such a breath of fresh air. I can hardly wait to see what the future holds for the place. Just brilliant!

Having a Gander at Geese

A birding life spent largely in the London area and East Devon/West Dorset is not going to be packed with proper wild geese. So recent news of a flock of 34 European White-fronts in the Otter Valley north of Budleigh Salterton was definitely of interest to me, if only as a heads-up that there may be others about more locally. Certainly I didn't contemplate travelling over to see them.

I've just trawled through my scant records from 19 years of on/off birding down here to see how many times wild geese and I have crossed paths. This is what I found:

2005

Amazingly my first local bird was a juv Tundra Bean Goose. A bunch of us found it at Lower Bruckland Ponds on a Jan 1st 'big day' (or thought we did - it had actually been seen the previous day as well). It hung around for a while, and on 10th Jan I saw it on the Axe Estuary at Coronation Corner too.

On 25th Jan the soft calls of a flock of White-fronts distracted me from a Sibe Chiff hunt at Colyton WTW. I looked up as a flock of 30 birds flew over W, circled back E again (I am pretty sure they were contemplating touch-down) before eventually heading away W up the Coly Valley. Oh, for a camera in those days!  Meanwhile that morning, Steve was discovering a pair of young Surf Scoters on the sea off Weston and trumping my geese quite severely!

2006

A fluctuating February flock of European White-fronts spent several days on Colyford Marsh, peaking at 15 birds.

2007

Two adult European White-fronts on Colyford Marsh again, for a few days in December.

2008

European White-front again, a single youngster on the Axe Estuary with 5 Greylags in March.

At this point it is beginning to look like wild geese are an annual thing for me, but no - I cannot find any others in my records. I know I did see at least one more - a Greenland White-front which Steve found on Colyford Marsh - but I'm not sure when. My next encounter with a genuine wild bird was a Pink-footed Goose at West Bay in October (I think) 2019, and another on the Axe and at East Bexington (almost certainly the same bird at both locations) in October 2020. And I think that's my lot.

So, when I unexpectedly finished all my pre-Xmas work in Seaton early this afternoon, and found myself thinking about where it might be nice to stop for lunch, er...

Three of the 34 European White-fronts frequenting the Lower Otter Restoration Project area. The habitat looks pretty good already, and is greatly enhanced by the gentle laughter bubbling from this flock of beauties.

A few more, including some nicely barred adults.

Quite a neck on them when they're alert.

Even at 14:15 the light was dismal on this grey day, but it was great to get at least a few shots as a memento of what is apparently the biggest flock of White-fronts in Devon in almost 40 years!

Good & Gooder

A few minutes on the BBC News app this morning was enough to do my head in a bit, so I've been ferreting around in the world of bird stuff for something to relieve the pain. A few offerings...

I'll start with my own recent birdy joys. This past week I've had very little spare time, but spent maybe an hour with the Chiffchaffs at Colyton sewage works, and similar at Kilmington. A number of Chiffs, but still no Sibes. A few bonus Goldcrests and a Treecreeper were nice though. The Axe Estuary gulls have had a scan or three, but while I've yet to winkle out anything exciting, I photographed this yesterday...

White L:CJ1 is from a Great Black-backed Gull project in Cornwall. Awaiting details.

Gulls are so cool. Their colour rings are often quite easy to read, and searching for them adds an extra level of interest to any flock of dross.

Talking of gulls...

Currently there is a 1st-winter Caspian Gull visiting Sutton Bingham Reservoir on the Somerset/Dorset border. I think it has turned up on something like six afternoons out of the last seven, so guess what? It has attracted a 'crowd'! According to reports on Twitter, birders and toggers blocked the road today; traffic jam, the lot*. Twitchers flocked, as the saying goes. I am always chuffed when a gull (those creatures which even many birders love to hate) pulls in a crowd. And when it's a subtle beastie like a Casp, I am pretty sure that quite a few trotting over to have a look will need a bit of reassurance that they're actually photographing the correct bird. But they still go. Such is the draw of Larid quality. I do love a crowd-pleasing gull.

There's another good gull in Weymouth right now. An Iceland Gull is making regular appearances on my Twitter feed, and again it's great to see a gull getting good press.

Also on Twitter today was a little video of a preening Med Gull, and a comment to the effect that Meds are always a treat to watch. And that from an experienced birder who sees many. Love it!

Please, please, always look at gulls. They have so much to offer...

One of my favourite gull photos ever. Taken on the Axe Estuary in 2007. Even if the brown ones leave you cold, there's always the chance of something a bit easier...

Finally, this...

I've come across quite a few young birders on Twitter (that's 'young' as in 25 or under) and am pleased to say that at least some of them seem to have resisted the spurious and over-hyped glamour of rarity chasing. And when I see an initiative like this it does my cynical old heart good. And makes me smile for a nice reason.

Before I go, a quick thank-you to those who have in various ways said complimentary things about the recent series of NQS posts on the bird news saga. It has been very encouraging, and is much appreciated.

Finally finally, I had my COVID booster jab at 10:00 this morning. Jabs one and two hammered me somewhat, with around 36-48 hours of assorted nastiness, but thus far the booster has given me no more than a hefty punch on the arm. So I am hoping for a restful night. If I get one, today's goodness factor will go from 7/10 to almost 8...

* Example of hyperbole.

Bird News - Part 6: Filthy Lucre

Let's get one thing straight: the bird news industry was inevitable. Even before they had to pay for it, birders were already prepared to jump through at least modest hoops to get the latest gen. For example, the grapevine demanded communication skills. So the timid overcame shyness and talked to complete strangers; the naturally taciturn made an effort to be friendly with others; the selfish learned the need to reciprocate, and so on. If socially awkward birders were prepared to get out of their comfort zone for bird news, well yes, obviously there was money in it.

How much money?

Who knows? I certainly don't. I suppose I could reference the January 1993 Independent newspaper article mentioned in THIS post, which reports that Lee Evans was earning about £30k a year from Birdline (roughly £65k today) but I suspect this is the tip of an iceberg. In 2021 certainly, quite a few incomes must be funded by the bird news market.

In a sense I suppose the founders of Birdline invented that market. Once a group of individuals took it upon themselves effectively to centralise bird news and require payment for supplying it, that was that - bird news was now a commodity. There was absolutely no going back. And what a fascinating business model...

As Richard Millington wrote in A Twitcher's Diary:

Twitchers cannot exist without the goodwill of the birdwatchers who are the lucky finders of the more exciting birds. It is these generous and unselfish birdwatchers who start the telephone 'grapevine' working...

With the inception of Birdline a few years later, I doubt that much changed here. Most birders are 'generous and unselfish' when it comes to sharing their finds, and I am sure that such 'goodwill' continued. Though I am mildly curious to know if anyone ever phoned the Bird Information Service hotline and enquired how much their newly-discovered Desert Wheatear might be worth...

I imagine the answer was 'not much'. One way or another, the well-connected Birdline staff would soon get to hear about it anyway - for nothing I expect - and then sell it to anyone willing to dial 0898 700222.

Extreme rarities must have been especially welcome. And long stayers. And birds with long names. And those which entailed an elaborate set of directions. In fact, anything which induced you to ring the dreaded number in the first place, and then kept you on the phone! I came to despise the sound of that voice, and its almost cynically slow delivery.

As with any other market, once established, there were plenty of players wanting in. Two or three examples...

In 1988 I moved to Rickmansworth, Herts. At that time my birding zeal was minimal, yet I was still approached by one of the three founders of a new 'regional' bird news phone-line type service to check that I would give them first dibs on any news I had. Shortly afterwards I learned that this new service was now...er...'unable' to proceed in a fully independent fashion, and instead would become one of several regional birdlines in the Bird Information Service stable. Hmmm. No doubt there's an interesting story here.

A well-known twitcher who suddenly and unexpectedly found himself with a great deal of thinking time discovered that telecomms supplier Mercury offered a cheaper premium rate phone service than BT. Game on! For a while in the early 1990s my go-to birdline number was a little easier on the wallet. And the voice of Franko Maroevic made a nice change.

By 1990 loads of birders were basically skint. Bank loans for the third kitchen refurb in as many years were becoming harder to get. Birdline was simply a bottomless pit, into which bird news addicts poured money faster than they could earn it. Something had to be done. A delegation was dispatched to Norwich. Soft-hearted philanthropist Dick Filby was moved to tears by the plight of these hapless folk, and immediately founded Rare Bird Alert, a subscription-based pager service. Finally! A bird news service which you could budget for.

Anyway, a lot has happened in the intervening 30 years, and many players have have come and gone. In 2021 it seems perfectly normal to pay for bird news. Long gone are the dark days of Birdline, with its potentially addictive grip and limitless spend. And let's be honest, modern technology is simply amazing. If you discovered a drake Harlequin Duck tomorrow morning, within minutes your photos could be on Twitter, where they would be picked up by the ever-vigilant bods at RBA and BirdGuides, and the joyous news of your good fortune punted out to their vast army of subscribers. Great. Happy subscribers = money in the bank. You, meanwhile, will earn nothing. Well, no, not true actually. You will earn kudos. And that warm glow which rewards the 'generous and unselfish' spirit.

If, in any of the above, you have detected a hint of irony (or - heaven forbid - sarcasm) possibly that is because I am getting old. Old people have this tendency to look back at the days of yore through rose-tinted spectacles, and to have a Bah! Humbug! attitude to anything modern, slick and efficient. Well, there is little doubt that the modern bird news industry is slick and efficient. And yes, there is a rosy tint to my view of the grapevine days when bird news was free. But in truth, the rarity-obsessed numbers game which epitomises birding back then is just as prevalent today, if not more so. It might have seemed relatively innocent forty years ago, but it is exactly what spawned the whole bird news industry in the first place. And in a time when our understanding of what is happening to this planet tells us we ought to be throttling back massively, a number of individuals - friends and acquaintances of many of us - make their living from an industry which encourages us to do the opposite. Many today feel that the birding ethos which held sway back then - and still does now - needs to change. However, I cannot help thinking that when bird news became a commodity, the chances of instituting such a change dwindled away. A huge genie escaped the confines of its lamp, and I cannot see it climbing back in of its own accord.

Fun Things

It has been a challenge to get much blog material out of the last couple of weeks' birding. But here goes...

After what was seemingly a good autumn for them I'm hopeful of a Siberian Chiffchaff or two, but efforts so far have drawn a blank. The closest I got was at Kilmington WTW last week. An elusive, pale and interesting bird in Thursday afternoon's drizzly murk failed to show at all the following day.

Gulls have been few, and desperately unremarkable. And that's all I have to say about gulls.

The one exception to this everyday-ness has been the West Bex bunting flock, with which I have spent a few interesting hours. But they're tricky. They come and go a lot, and I've yet to see more than 15-20 birds at any one time, frequently less. Clearly they have a few other feeding spots. I've really struggled to get any photos, but finally managed a handful this afternoon, despite the dull conditions...

Female Cirl Bunting with Yellowhammer

Female Cirl, with olive-grey rump on view

As above, following a quick twirl

At first glance it is hard to believe that the Cirl Bunting on the deck is the same as the one photographed in the hedge, but I think it is. Still, I cannot explain why it looks noticeably more yellow in those last two shots.

Last Friday week (3rd December) I had brief scope views of two females together, and have been hoping for a repeat performance ever since. So far, no deal. That same day - in two hours - I also had single females twice. And ever since, I've only managed single females. These birds ain't easy. In fact it has reached the stage where I'm beginning to ask searching questions about that sighting of two. Unfortunately the male which featured in THIS post has not been seen again.

Spot the Cirl Bunting

It has definitely been worth lugging the scope down there. The variability in Yellowhammer plumage is quite something, and well worth a proper grilling. For example, that bird on the left in the last pic has very little yellow in its plumage, but a scope quickly prevents any putative Pine Bunting-induced hyperventilation - the yellow fringes on the primaries are quite obvious.

All good fun.