Onwards and upwards

90 has very quickly become 95. I pulled my finger out at the weekend and went and got Cetti's on Saturday morning. Better than that, another glimpse of the Otter. On Sunday I dipped a Green Sandpiper in the same place but jammed a Common Sandpiper whilst I was at it. Consolation prize. Back on the Flats an hour or so later a Cuckoo called - it had been reported earlier but James and I hadn't really expected that it would hang around. Just before I called it a day and went home to start gardening I was alerted to some Swifts. Distant, but sure enough there they were. This is always a landmark event in my birding year, a kind of validation that the world is still normal. The Swifts are back. Later on, enjoying some skywatching and Rosé, a pair cirled the house. Life is good. On Monday morning before I work an early start rewarded me with a pair of Shelduck. This is truly the most exciting time of year.

95 is well above average. Somehow I have pulled it back and then some. And with the added bonus of a pile of winter birds still to come. Dare to dream. The patch as a whole is on for a record year if you look at the numbers alone, with 119 species observed (or heard). At the equivalent point in 2021, our record year, we were on 113. That is a big difference. I do wonder whether there is a spring bias at play here though, with a fair few species having already fallen that we would normally expect in autumn. We shall see. 2021 finished on 142, beating that is a tall order. That year I saw 131, and I very much doubt whether I'll ever manage that again.

ATCO, Swaro and Tempier. You genuinely cannot go wrong.

Other than birding this weekend saw a substantial amount of gardening. I usually potter around the greenhouse at my own pace, have a bit of sit down, pour a glass of something. Not so this weekend, I was whipped into servitude by Mrs L and spent hours and hours operating the shredder as she got to work on various overgrown shrubs. Our shredder is legendary. We bought it over 20 years ago, spending probably more money on a single item than we had ever spent at that time. It likely still ranks in the top ten. I am glad we did as it works as well today as did in about 2001. You can see it in my skywatching photo. Later on I switched to a hand saw for some slightly bigger bits and ripped my knuckles open, blood all over the place. I retired from slavery and made some mint juleps. Much safer.

Into the nineties

This morning a Lesser Whitethroat became my 90th patch bird of 2025. As I've already mentioned I had a lacklustre start to the year, a lot of apathy, a lot of not actually being here, but since late March I've really upped my game and been out a lot. Have I caught up?

2024: 13th April

2023: 29th April

2022: 23rd April

2021: 30th March

2020: 19th April

2019: May 2nd

2018: April 22nd

So today is the 25th which would seem to fit neatly into the above list, not the worst, not the best, pretty average. I'd argue I am actually slightly ahead on the basis that there are a number of pretty easy ones that I've failed to find. Or in some cases actually look for at all. Tawny Owl for example, there are two within ten minutes of home that I could pop out and listen for whenever I feel like it. Which I don't. I am also missing Grey Wagtail and Cetti's Warbler, both a little trickier, but with a bit of effort I could likely sort that out. Fieldfare could be a bit harder for a while....

What I do sort of regret is flogging the patch for all four days of the long weekend just gone. In truth it was a bit crap - the best bird a Snipe - and I should have used one of those days to go and bird somewhere that actually had birds. Especially as at this time of year I can get a good two hours on the patch before going to work, so why also burn the weekends on it?

Lots of these belting it out at the moment

And on the fifth day

This is not some kind of Easter or LoTR reference. It's about the Nightingale, which continues to sing lustily from Motorcycle Wood on Wanstead Flats. Being a wholly rounded and sensible person I have of course been attempting to get it on my garden list by virtue of hearing it from one of the turrets of Chateau L. This did not work. The wind, the 'Fun' Fair, the traffic, obsessive power-washing from one of my neighbours, not to mention selfish Robins seemingly everywhere. I was resigned to this unique opportunity passing me by.

Yesterday evening though the stars aligned. The wind dropped, the fair packed up, the boy-racers had disappeared and it being Easter there just seemed to be less traffic on the A12 and A406, the dull hum of both is otherwise a constant backdrop. A local birder popped out and reported it in fine voice. I jumped out of bed and threw open the balcony turret doors! No music, no engines, no helicopters, just a faint "chug chug chug, pew pew pew pew pew pew", then the uprising crescendo. It seemed to reverberate off the walls of nearby houses. I was beside myself. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever add Nightingale to the house list. 490 metres and clear as a bell. Distant yes, but perfectly clear. I am astonished.

You know how in the past I have confessed to liking round numbers? Nightingale is garden tick #99. #98 was as long ago as 2021, that infamous year of lockdown and constant working from home. That year I added five, but that was an exceptional year where there was little else to do. I still can't believe that it ever happened, that we lived through it. What will 100 be? I've had three that I can't count, nocmig records when I was asleep of Quail, Green Sandpiper and Little Grebe. The latter are local and are by far the most likely but require staying up all night which is not really me any longer despite the prize. As such I am still holding out hope for a Nuthatch. That would be epic.

Back to slow

A small amount of movement, very small. We've had Whimbrel over the Flats twice in two days, James had the briefest Grasshopper Warbler, the Nightingale is still here, and I saw a Swallow. A single Swallow. It's hard work out on Wanstead Flats at the moment, really not much reward for the immense coverage the place is getting. Where are the Lesser Whitethroats? The House Martins? Shouldn't we get a Reed Warbler, a Sedge? Dare to dream....

The Nightingale is on its third day. Given it has chosen a spot right next to the 'Fun' Fair this is pretty extraordinary. I was there this evening, waiting in vain for the Gropper to start up, the thumping bass and flashing lights interspersed with screams. A group of blokes were drinking in the chosen copse and yet above all of this racket it started up as the sun set. 

Look, a Yellow Parakeet! Observant readers may recall that this used to be a Nightingale photo, but then I needed that for a different post so now you have a weirdo Parrot.

Pumped for the weekend

My professional life has seen a tumultuous two weeks. High stress, long hours. You can probably guess why. Yes, that's right. The stream of conciousness spouting from a certain person in the United States of America has made recent weeks a misery. I have good coping mechanisms though, in particular birding. If I can get an hour or so out on Wanstead Flats before I head to work then I face it in an upbeat frame of mind. Birding is permanent, this lunacy will pass.

Egyptian Goose. Lovely.

I've missed just one day, and whilst on many of the days I've perhaps not seen a great deal it has been immensely helpful for my mental health. That is if I am allowed to even mention mental health these days, this and many other emminently sensible approaches to wellbeing and basic humanity seem to be on the retreat in this brave new world. 

Anyway, of all the recent days Tuesday and today have been the best. Tuesday was grim, constant rain that became a fine mist until at least lunch time, and it was no surprise that a Ring Ouzel dropped in. Found by hardier birders than myself, I tend not to go out in heavy rain, but by late morning it was starting to clear and knowing it would still be around I went out to look for it. I jammed it more or less immediately as it flew from one area of cover to another. My 46th on the patch, I couldn't quite believe it when this statistic popped up. The murk also landed a couple of Wheatear, and my day was enlivened by a steady stream of Swallows passing more or less over my house as I manfully attended call after call.

Wheatear

Wednesday was less exciting, a single Sand Martin battling against the breeze and being blown east when I suspect it had north in mind. Fast forward to this morning and Bob found a Nightingale singing in Motorcycle Wood. I was with James on the other side of the road talking about whether we would get a Nightingale this year. Turns out "yes" was the more or less instant answer. It was my 6th - the first was in 2013 but all the others have been in the last five years, a rare instance of an uptick in numbers. I wasn't able to see it as it sang from thick cover, but I very much enjoyed it. To say I am pumped for the long weekend ahead is an understatement.

No, I am not obsessed with Parakeets, why do you ask?

I asked AI about Wanstead Birder

The other day I noticed that my WhatsApp had a new button, a kind of blue ring on the right hand side. Curious, I pressed it. Meta AI, with Llama 4. I was on a plane at the time, flying back from a week working in Budapest, and having just finished my book I had logged onto the plane's wifi. As usual (unless you pay, which I don't) this was limited to messaging only, no internet. However as this thing was built into WhatsApp this seemed to defeat this and I found I was able to use it as a search engine of sorts. I'd just finished "The Greek Islands" by Lawrence Durrell so he was the first thing I looked up. Who is Lawrence Durrell, I asked. It spat out a very passable summary. Then I asked it about Hungarian wine regions. This looked pretty decent to an ignoramus such as myself. OK, how about Puligny 1er Cru, something I could actually challenge it on? Gosh, is there anything it doesn't know? It seemed to know what they were, the sizes of each of them in hectares, and then it attempted to describe their individual characterics but seemed to only land on them all having a balance of acidity and fruitiness. Understanding the specific magic of Puligny-Montrachet is of course an impossible task that actual humans have still not fully worked out, but afficionados know that Les Folatieres has clear differences between it's upper and lower reaches and the wine from either is in any event highly influenced by the particular vintage and by who made it. I digress. Then I asked it the following question.

"Who is Wanstead Birder"

Wanstead Birder is a pseudonymous British birdwatcher and blogger who writes about birds, birding and conservation. The blog, "Wanstead Birder," is named after the Wanstead Flats, a park in East London where the author often goes birding.

The Wanstead Birder's blog is known for its:

1. Witty and engaging writing style: The author's humourous and insightful posts have gained a large following.

2. Birding stories and anecdotes: The blog shares tales of birding adventures, successes and failures.

3. Conservation and environmental commentary: Wanstead Birder often discusses conservation issues, birding ethics, and environmental concerns.

The Wanstead Birder's identity remains anonymous, adding to the blog's charm and mystique.

Well now. This is exactly what came up, grammatical errors and all. I will not deny that I am impressed that artificially intelligent Llamas can actually do this, can come up with something broadly accurate but my goodness me. This is 16 years of blogging condensed into 100 words. 106 for any pedants out there. How can this even be possible? Did it genuinely scan all 2300 posts in a nanosecond to come up with this? Maybe it did. Fast reader! There are clear inaccuracies though. In point one for starters, insightful posts and a large following. Hah! As if.  Witty and enagaging! Well, I try....  

Point two is perhaps the most on point. I do indeed share tales of birding successes and failures. Mostly failures. And of adventures, perhaps those are the travel posts? What I am most surprised by is the lack of any acknowledgement that I often ignore birds in large parts of what I write. For many years I wrote about parenting, and even now if you look back you will find a good number of posts about wine, gardening, politics, AI..... I suppose that with such a limited word count you need to generalise.

Point three is of course a complete joke. I mean yes, very very occasionally I dip into the environmental theme, but I don't enjoy it, and those posts attract ire more often than not given my lifestyle choices and so I essentially skip it. This is where AI fails. It assumes that all birders, or at least all birders that write, must be conservationists and pump that message. Whereas some of us just write because we enjoy it and not because there is anything we particularly want to promote.

Charm and mystique? Couldn't have put it better myself.

Jersey

Last month I went to Jersey for the day, for no other reason than I had never been. I can report that it is very pleasant, and also that I saw more posh cars in a single place than I think I have ever seen. I had no agenda, no plan, I just went for a very long walk in beautiful weather. Heading east from the airport I circled the far perimeter of the runway, walking through the small village of St Peter's before heading into the countryside and down towards the sea at St Ouen's Bay. Somewhere around here a Chough flew over, not a bird that was on my radar, and there were lots of Buzzards in the air as well as a pair of Raven.

I checked out Val de la Mare, and then walked around the back of Les Mielles Nature Reserve before having a look at Saint Ouen's Pond and scrape. Skylark were singing by the beach, reminding me of the patch. Not reminding me of home was my first Wheatear of the year. They were on their way! Albeit that I've still only seen just the one on home turf.

First Wheatear!

I checked out Val de la Mare, and then walked around the back of Les Mielles Nature Reserve before having a look at Saint Ouen's Pond and scrape. Skylark were singing by the beach, reminding me of the patch. Not reminding me of home was my first Wheatear of the year. They were on their way! Albeit that I've still only seen just the one on home turf.

The pond held lots of Shoveler and a Water Pipit, and there were several hunting Marsh Harrier. On the massive sandy beach a handful of Oystercatcher fed. On distant rocks I could see a Little Egret and some Cormorant were bobbing about. The nearby Scrape was probably the most productive area, with some Wigeon, Lapwing, a flock of Brent Geese and, bizarrely, a Pink-footed Goose with a Barnacle Goose. Hmmm. Cetti's called from the reeds.

I returned to the airport from the other direction, essentially I had just walked a big anti-clockwise loop over the course of about six hours. I saw 53 species which I thought was pretty decent, I'd been expecting about 35. Altogether a very nice day. The island is very pretty, a patchwork landscape of small fields and hedgerows, lots of nice houses (and cars...), lovely views almost everywhere, and a terrific beach on the west side. I didn't get to St Helier or anywhere on the eastern side.