#LocalBigYear

When it finally rose above Portland, the sun blazed beautifully throughout this morning's walk from Burton Bradstock to the West Bex Mere and back. Two Shelduck were new for the year, and an adult Lesser Black-backed Gull my first of that age, but otherwise it was uneventful. A quick look at the buntings failed to deliver a Cirl.

Typical local birding: a couple of hours out, the odd notable thing. Yesterday afternoon this was one of the notable things...

Roadside Red-leg, from the car

Yep, a rare Red-legged Partridge photo-opportunity was a modest highlight. Normally they are naked-eye dots running for the horizon. This bird followed some 90 minutes in a local woodland, where my tally was 1 Treecreeper, 2 Coal Tits, 3 Nuthatches, 2 Bullfinches, 2 Ravens, and one each of Green and Great Spotted Woodpeckers. It felt pretty birdless.

Four outings so far in 2022, for 62 species or thereabouts. In coastal West Dorset. Many inland birders will have notched up 62 by lunchtime on the 1st. Still, I love birding my local area even though the species count can often be a bit thin. Hopefully you will never catch me moaning about about that aspect, because it is more than compensated by lovely scenery and a lot of space.

A few posts back I referred to Birdwatch magazine's #LocalBigYear challenge in positive terms. My personal take is that anything which promotes local birding rather than 'firing up the Quattro' every weekend is a good thing, and that is exactly what I felt this challenge was doing. Since then I have read all sorts of comments about it, ranging right across the spectrum from 'excellent idea' to 'hypocritical greenwashing'. Re the latter...

I think I'm right in saying that Birdwatch is owned by Warners Group Publications plc, so yes, part of a commercial enterprise which aims to keep its shareholders happy. Like any magazine it is full of adverts. So do the sources of its advertising revenue undermine the #LocalBigYear challenge, announced with such fanfare just before the new year? Is the magazine just paying lip-service to low-carbon birding in order to pacify a mildly radical little cadre of irritating birders?

'We must all look for ways to reduce our carbon footprint...'
No doubt about it, Birdwatch is talking the talk.

Including the front and back covers, the January issue comprises 64 pages. Approximately 18.25 pages are ads. A breakdown reveals that 13.75 of those are optics ads, a page each for Birdwatch and Birdguides ads, 0.5 for books, 0.5 for accomodation, 0.5 for the World Land Trust charity, and just 1.0 for potentially high-carbon travel ads. Interesting.

One could argue that the 8 pages of rarity news and 3 pages on Colombia's birds are hardly low-carbon friendly, but personally I think that would be a bit nit-picky. Anyone is free to see the #LocalBigYear thing as greenwashing if they choose of course, but it strikes me as a positive thing to promote, so I will. Judging by birdy Twitter there has been plenty of enthusiastic uptake. Great. Potentially a few birders might become newly smitten by the potential of their local area, and consequently go on fewer twitches. Why knock it?

Time For an Upgrade

Recently I reread Seventy Years of Birdwatching by H.G. Alexander, and realised I had forgotten that he began his birdwatching career sans binoculars. Can you imagine? The notion of birdwatching without bins seems crazy in 2022, but at the turn of the 20th century I imagine they were both expensive and rare. How different things were when I began birdwatching. Even as a young boy I owned a pair of bins*. They were ancient, ex-military 7x50s with individually-focusing eyepieces, and they weighed roughly 10 kilos. I was still using them in the early 1980s when I started birding properly, but the need for an upgrade was quickly obvious.

With Sandra I visited Opticron, which I think was based in St Albans back then. We came away with brand new Opticron 8x30s for Sandra and second-hand Swift Audubon 8.5x44s for me.

Swift 8.5x44s in action on St Mary's in 1984. I wonder when I last went birding in a collared shirt?

They were great bins. At least, I thought so. Or I did until they started misting up inside after a rainy day in the field. In 1987 I upgraded to what were then considered the best bins on the market: Zeiss Dialyt 10x40 BGAT. This is what they look like...

This photo was taken in October 2015

In 2019 they had become a little hazy internally, so I had them cleaned and serviced. It made a difference, but in 2022 the haziness has returned with a vengeance, the rubber armour has come slightly unstuck by the bridge on one side, the calibration plate has fallen off the dioptre adjusting wheel, and so on. My bins are basically knackered, and need retiring. Which means I am obliged to consider my options...

I have to be realistic. First, I do not have a bottomless wallet. If that were not the case I would have upgraded long ago. Second, I am quite old. It's an unwelcome thought, but at 62 I am not expecting to require the 34+ years I got from my Zeiss Dialyts. Third, I do love a bit of quality. The idea of owning the best bins on the market appealed to me in 1987 and still does today. So where does this lead me?

Research suggests that the best bins right now are Swarovski's NL Pure range, Zeiss' Victory SF and Leica's Noctivid. No offence to Leica but I've never been a fan, so it is actually a two-horse race. Also, I really fancy the idea of diddy little 10x32 bins rather than the usual 10x42, and both brands offer that option. Why lumber myself with weightier bins if optically I don't have to? The only drawback is the two-grand price tag...

Or there is the second-hand route, and maybe an older model. Still amazing optics no doubt, and equally as likely to...er...see me out, but cheaper. I have just sold a couple of bikes, and some careful domestic 'negotiations' have resulted in my being able to convert income gained from one hobby into expenditure on another. Or so I am led to believe. Anyway, the upshot is that I have some money earmarked for new bins. So I'd better hurry up and spend it while the going is good.

PS. If any readers have experience of NL Pure or Victory SF 10x32s I would be glad of your opinions. Likewise any suggestions for second-hand options.

* Note for the screaming pedant: 'pair of bins' is the acceptable - but technically incorrect - name given to a binocular (singular) by the shoulder-shrugging writer of this blog and countless other birders who don't care.

A Green Day

A personal record Welly Walk today. According to Google's clever mapping tools (and rounding up a touch) a cool 15 miles or 24 kilometres. I don't think I've managed a walk that long for at least 18 months. My legs hurt.

Home to West Bay, then to the West Bex Mere, and back again via Burton Bradstock and North Hill

Most of my local birding involves a short drive first, but somehow it felt right to kick off the new year with a totally green effort. I'm glad I bothered...

I arrived at West Bay with the first of the rain, so plonked down in the shelter and got the flask out. A bit earlier than planned - and for longer than planned - but hey ho. A flock of 5 Brents W was an unexpected bonus from the enforced seawatch. Apart from singles of Teal and Gannet, nothing else but the odd gull.

West Bay 09:45

The next bonus bird flew E over Freshwater Holiday Park as I walked across it towards Burton Bradstock - a 1st-winter Kittiwake. Locally, almost certainly the only one I've seen comfortably inland of the nearest beach, and the only Kittiwake of the day. It was quickly followed by another surprise...

Black Redstart in Burton Bradstock

My first local Black Redstart for ages, and I definitely would not have seen it under normal circumstances. I never visit this spot in winter. From here it was a steady plod all the way to my shingle seat by the West Bexington Mere...

Lunch. The gulls and ducks are very, very small, and far, far away

I sat here for a while, with my hood up to keep the spray off my specs, and waited for a classy gull to drop in. There was a reasonable turnover of gulls, with 50-100 on view most of the time, but 4 Meds together was the best of it. No jam today. I did see a nice duck though...

A very distant female Pintail on the left there.

Next, off to the only stake-out of the day: Cirl Bunting. At least, I hoped so. Approaching its favoured hedge I was pleased to see 20-odd buntings and finches flitting up and down from hedge to field and back. But before I was anywhere near, the whole lot upped and flew. Closer now, I could see that just one bird was left, tucked in the hedge a bit. It looked vaguely promising, but a little too far and obscured to clinch with bins. Out with the camera...

Female Cirl - the only bunting in the hedge!

That was handy.

Heading homewards I was amazed to see how many people were now out and about. Maybe they'd waited for the morning rain to ease? Whatever, I counted 80+ at Cogden Beach, which is possibly more than you might see on an average summer afternoon. A little further on, this was the Hive Beach car park at 15:00...

Hive Beach at Burton Bradstock

I cut inland at this point, and a Chiffchaff in Burton Bradstock village was the final addition to the day's tally, which is 51 if I've counted correctly. There are loads of silly gaps, but I really wasn't looking for a big count.

Mistle Thrush is not a species I would have predicted...

...but Stonechat is.

Heading up North Hill out of Burton Bradstock I had one of those slapstick moments that are miles better when suffered by other people. On the wettest, thickest, slipperiest patch of mud so far (and there had been plenty) my right foot slid rapidly sideways to the left and took my other foot with it, dumping me on the deck with a mighty splat. I managed not to lie down completely, but I cannot think of anything else that might put a positive spin on the event. Oh, wait - I didn't break anything! There you go...

Wiping my specs for maybe the hundredth time, I squidged home.

It felt good to see all these local birds just by walking. When time allows I will probably do something similar again. In the meantime I can feel all virtuous and low-carbon for a few hours. Which reminds me...

On Twitter I came across a link to an article written exclusively by young birders, in which 19 of them talk about local, low-carbon birding, and why they do it. In the face of so many youngsters haring all over the country exactly like my generation did (and does) and apparently seeing no need to do any different, it is a delightfully refreshing read. Find it HERE.

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!