2013: The Year in Review

2013 - The Year of the Wheatear
What, already? Yes, I'm afraid so, here we are (all three of us) again. Another year gone, shorter of breath etc. Whereas last year was the year of the Pipit, 2013 was the year of the Wheatear. First of all they were late, very late, but this gave me a shot at something I've been aiming at for many years - to find the first returning patch Wheatear on my birthday. And bugger me if I didn't do it! A filthy day, snowing in parts, but over by the long ditch on the eastern half of the Flats a plucky little African migrant was hopping along. When the weather finally allowed migration to continue in mid-April, they came thick and fast. At one point standing at the vizmig point, a 360 degree turn would have netted up to 30 birds - quality on a vast scale. And then of course there was the fabulous Izzy Wheatear in West Wales, followed up fairly quickly with a Pied Wheatear in the Midlands. I nearly made it a full house with a Desert Wheatear, but circumstances conspired against me and the bird departed before I could get there. Which means it doesn't even count as a dip, and this year above all has been memorable for its lack of dips. I can't really think of anything I've dipped. Many people could say this of course simply by staying at home all year, but by being careful about what I set off for and crucially, what I don't, I've had an amazing run. This means that there is probably a massive dip somewhere in my future, but let's leave that to next year's write up. Sorry, what Tropicbird?

Although I try not to have any birding goals, I did mention last year that being a mere stone's throw from 400 BOU, that I would likely attempt to get over the line. If you have been paying close attention, you will have seen that I got there. If you've been skim-reading and looking mostly at photos, I got there. I got there!! Starting on 395, I nipped up to Shetland for the Pine Grosbeak in mid-February, went for the North Uist Harlequin in late March, armchair ticked the 2012 Kent Hooded Merg at some point, and then in late April finally caught up with a long overdue Subalpine Warbler for 399. And then came the Dusky Thrush. Yay! Remarkably easy, and I even considered hanging up my twitching hat, but a week later a Roller turned up - unmissable - and I felt I might as well continue......

Closer to home, I tried to win the highly coveted Golden Mallard which is worth at least fifty quid on Ebay, but despite pulling my best ever patch total out of the bag, I couldn't even muster a podium place..... Pretty pleased with how it went though, as I wasn't able to get out a great deal during the latter part of the year. I'm actually debating not bothering with the patch next year, sad though that sounds - should I rename the blog? We will see if the typical January 1st enthusiasm picks me up (weather making this look unlikely!) but I like to do things properly rather than half-heartedly, and the way it has been going I'm struggling to see how I can improve upon the amount of time I get. Stop twitching madly round the country perhaps?

What else did I say? Something about photos? Well, as with the patch, opportunities to use the camera also fell off a cliff in the latter part of the year. I have intense periods, usually coinciding with travel of some kind, and then the camera lives in a bag for weeks at a time. This is not good enough, I failed to do enough this year, and I continue to miss a trick. The more I use a camera, the better I will get. And whilst if I don't use if I don't think I'll stagnate, at least not quickly, I certainly won't improve, and that is time wasted. 2013 has been OK in terms of results, I've taken some nice ones, but I know deep down I can do better. The really good bird photographers are the ones who hardly ever put their cameras down, day in, day out. Clearly I can't compete with that, but there's still a long way to go, and going three weeks at a time without pointing my lens at a bird gets me precisely nowhere.

2014 Goals
Professional
- work hard, play hard. 'nuff said.

Personal Goals
- no numbers, there are none in reach anyway. In 2013 I reached 400 in the UK, 250 in London, and set my new patch record. What else is there? I'm on 411 now, can I celebrate 415? Exactly. Any other meaningful numbers are years away. And not actually meaningful anyway, even if they are mildly satisfying.
- I will use the camera once a week. I will make myself do it, even if it seems unpromising. When light allows, I will use it more often. I need to get more serious. Again. I feel I'm on another plateau, with another climb ahead, but one that is possible.

Best Birding Moment
Ah where to start, there have been many. Standing on the white sandy beach in glorious weather at Balranald in the company of perhaps seven other people watching the Harlequin Duck bob about just offshore is pretty high up there. Cleaning up on the Owls in ever-lasting daylight in Finland was amazing too, with Great Grey Owl seen well a mere ten minutes after setting off, followed by seeing Ural Owl without getting maimed. That trip is also memorable for the surreality of photographing Citrine Wagtail at midnight. Then there was the excitement of realising in a split second that I had probably just seen another Stone-Curlew flying over Wanstead Flats, breaking into a run whilst simultaneously phoning people, and then having the bird break cover again and nailing it for all time as it curved behind some trees and came out the other side. Elation and relief. Another memorable moment comes from Morocco, and the search for Desert Sparrow which took us out on foot along a camel track into the Erg Chebbi dune system. That was amazing birding, that felt incredible, but all of these things are topped by a chance encounter in Scotland on the way back from the Grosbeak. Wandering along a forest track n the highlands I happened to glance to my right....

Coming towards me up the bank was an enormous male Capercaillie. Surely one of these rogue males that you hear about, it stalked into the middle of the track. I had been walking slightly ahead of the guys, and the bird was now between me and them. I rarely get scared birding, this was a rare exception. Satisfied that we were not a threat, it moved off the road and back into the pines. How often does a birding experience make you shake from nervous excitement?  The four of us agreed that we had just witnessed something very special indeed. Somehow I refrained from blogging about it at the time. We thought it best for the bird - once news of a rogue Caper gets out, it's a slippery slope. The word spreads, more and more people visit, and eventually something bad will happen. It wouldn't be my fault, but I would have started it in motion, and there are not enough Capercaillie in those forests.

Best UK Trip
There is no contest here. Good as the trip up to the Grosbeak on Shetland was, with great highland birding as decribed above, and a visit to the ever-fabulous Largo Bay, the trip to North Uist for the Harlequin Duck was simply wonderful. I'd never been the islands before, and they're so special I'm taking the family back there on holiday next year - a fringe benefit of twitching. We travelled in two stages, first leg to Carlisle and then the ferry the following day from Oban with some birding in between. The sea was flat calm, and the skies were blue, a quality crossing involving beer and a few Manxies. Arriving after dark we piled into a tiny bunkhouse and the next morning (day three of our odyssey) awoke to intense calm and silence save the calling of birds. It hardly mattered whether the duck was there or not, but of course it was. At the end of a stretch of dunes was a small rocky point, and bobbing around just off the beach close to it was our prize. White sand, more blue skies, a magical experience just being there and the Harlequin the icing on the cake.

Best Bird
This category is incredibly difficult until you realise that I've seen millions of Wheatears this year, both here and abroad. This shortens the list considerably, but of course presents its own problems - how can you pick one Wheatear over another? Well, it was tough, and there are rarer birds, but the Isabelline Wheatear in Pembrokeshire was fractionally without peer. It took an awfully long time to get there, but twitching had again brought me to somewhere pretty special. The bird had been there some time, and getting there was such a mission that we almost had it to ourselves - a couple of local birders and a few families out enjoying a walk in the nice weather. So even though the list of UK rarities this year has been almost unbelievable, and even though I've travelled to a fair few places further afield, this is the bird that I keep coming back to and smiling broadly.

Worst Bird
An unfair award perhaps, but serves to highlight either my stupidity, or that of birding. Last year the Pechora on Shetland took top honours by being a skulky so-and-so and causing indecorous behaviour that annoyed the islanders. This year I thought about giving this award to the Dusky Thrush in Margate Cemetery, as that drew some spectacularly bad behaviour from the assembled crowd. You could argue that the dead don't care where you stand, but to see hordes of panicking people crashing straight over graves was a disgrace. Woeful behaviour, utterly embarrassing, it is just a bird. The sad fact is that many of the (living) people there wouldn't have even given it a second thought, the bird was the most important thing at that moment in time, and they will not have noticed or cared that they just trampled over somebody's final resting place. But one bird tops this, and you can probably guess which one. Red-billed Tropicbird. This has everything going for it. Acute embarrassment for all those present who missed it including me, in fact especially me as I was down the slope a bit, fabulous rarity value, and a whole shitload of internet aftermath mostly from people who weren't there. Top marks, and a deserved winner!

Worst UK Trip
With no big dips to speak of, and the Cornish seawatching pretty decent despite missing a Tropicbird, I'm struggling rather on this one. I could nominate my sea-watching trip to Co. Clare in Bagnall-esque fashion, but I'm plumping for the Semipalmated Plover twitch, which was twitching simply for a number. Like Short-toed Treecreeper, it's er, subtle. I attempted to call it educational, but really the best you can say about it is that it wasn't too bad. Hardly a ringing endorsement. Add to this that I misread the weather and came out in just a teeshirt and jacket when it fact it was blowing a gale and raining, and that the bird took hours to find, looking back I find it easy to say that I have had more enjoyable days out.

Best Foreign Trip
Ooooh. Lots. Lots and lots. My travel schedule is a source of mockery, and it's fair to say I've had a rather good year. I view this as just recompense for working my ass off most of the rest of the time, and travel is one of the main reasons I do it. Where have I been then? Well, chronologically I went to Morocco, Spain, Finland, Hungary, Majorca, Ireland, and St Lucia. With the exception of the Ireland trip which was a let down on the sea-watching front, they were all excellent, which makes it very hard to choose. My family holiday to Majorca was fantastic, and to see the kids warm, swimming all day long, was brilliant. We don't spend enough time together, which means that when we do it's very special. The absurd mark ups during holiday season combined with the insistence that children not be taken away in term time make it very difficult for families as busy as we are. But we need to do it more often and so we've got a few things lined up next year already, including a family trip to America.

Morocco was a real eye-opener, how birding should be, fabulous scenery and brilliant birds, but unfortunately a distinct lack of rum cocktails. Which means that once again this award is heading west across the Atlantic. St. Lucia was sublime, a perfect mix of relaxation, birding, photography and fruity drinks. If as a family we don't spend enough time together, time Mrs L and I have together is even scarcer. She's busy, I'm busy, it's that time of life. A week in the Caribbean is very helpful, and I love it there. She of course isn't really bothered where it is, just as long as it's with me.....

Best Gig
I've had to replace the Worst Domestic incident in the annual review. This was highly relevant when I was in charge of all things house and kid, but I barely lift a finger any more so there is nothing to say. I once overpaid the gardener. See? I do however go to a lot of gigs, and plan to continue to do so as I have discovered I really enjoy it and lots of great acts come to London. Why it took me nearly 15 years of living in London to discover that I could go to concerts is a mystery, but I am making up for lost time. This year I saw The Counting Crows, Eric Church, Kacey Musgraves, Vince Gill, Little Big Town, Tim McGraw, The Zac Brown Band, The Band Perry, and The Rolling Stones. But I also saw Springsteen, and thus have nothing more to say. Untouchable.

Most Amusing Photograph
Birding trips with mates generally always have many funny momements, and if I'm lucky enough (or quick enough!) I sometimes manage to get a photo. Nick falling over various fences in Shetland this year sadly went unrecorded, but he does feature in one of the funniest photos this year which you can find in this post, but top honour goes to Bradders and The Tree. The tree in Morocco that was rumoured to contain nesting Desert Sparrows, the tree that was sought out using satellite mapping whilst still in the UK, the tree that was programmed into various GPS applications. The tree that was approached in 4WD across the desert, the tree that first appeared as a speck on the horizon, and the tree that after all that contained no birds whatsoever!

Thanks for reading, Happy New Year, and see you in 2014!

PS If you fancy a blast from the past to see how my annual reviews have diverged, here are a few links
2012
2011
2010
2009

2012: The Year in Review

2012 - The Year of the Pipit
2012 was a pretty good year for me, with 13 ticks, far more than I expected given I wasn't really going to go on many twitches. Some stonking megas in there for instance a Common Yellowthroat in Gwent? In Feb? With Gwent's reputation? Pretty bonkers. And a Short-billed Dowitcher? Hardly on my radar, nor was the Spanish Sparrow in mid-Jan. But when I'm asked about what bird I most associate 2012 with (a common question, most interviewers ask it....), my answer is Pipits.Three of the ticks were Pipits - first a Tawny at Landguard, then a Pechora on Shetland, and finally an OBP in Essex. But not only these - another Tawny in London at Barking Bay, two Buff-bellied Pipits, one of which was also in London, and then of course all the regular Pipits. The only real misses are Richard's, and Red-throated - I couldn't even invent one on call this year..... Anyhow, I thought rare Pipits were supposed to be difficult, but apparently not. I've never dipped a Tawny Pipit before, nor a Pechora. I once dipped an OBP in Norfolk, but that almost doesn't count as I it was ages ago and back then I didn't even know what one was - I just happened to turn up and missed it by five minutes. I wandered off completely unphased, not knowing that I wouldn't get another opportunity for years. Then of course I dipped one repeatedly on Shetland this year at Toab, and subsequently left the islands about a week before a major arrival when you could have seen five in a day and been completely sick of them. For my tick I simply drove out to Southend, had a bit of a poke around in Gunner's Park, saw it well if briefly, and drove home again - couldn't really have been much easier. It was my last tick of 2012, and now, almost unbelievably, we're about to start 2013. This means that my kids are that much bigger, and far more depressingly, I'm one year older. By the time (Mayans/any other nutters notwithstanding) I write this again next year I'll be 38. Ouch. Worryingly close to 40.

My 2012 goals were to be employed, boring as that sounds, and to win the coveted Golden Mallard, worth at least fifty quid. Well, I'm still employed, which is remarkable, but I'm afraid the Mallard is heading over to Cork. Gutted. I tried quite hard as well, equalling my best ever patch total, but it just wasn't enough. A number of conflicting priorities got in the way of course, work and mild apathy being two, and there were a few extremely near misses such as Wood Lark and Marsh Harrier that could have seen me be a contender. At least I got Waxwings though, in a moment of pure jam. Five patch ticks cannot be sniffed at though: Jack Snipe, Golden Plover, Smew, Mandarin Duck, and SEO, which takes my Wanstead list to 132.

2012 was also comfortably my lowest UK year list total since I started venturing outside of Wanstead. A meagre 258 species, with some stunning gaps - Osprey, Black-throated Diver, Black Tern, Bean Goose..... I guess the two years on the trot when I did 300+ have forever put me off year-listing. In other words, very pleasing news indeed, and good for my wallet and the planet  Everyone has to do it once, but I'm over it now and no longer need to hoon around all over the place completely pointlessly. In a rare moment of computing competence, I've decided to represent this graphically for you. Less competently, and I have no idea if this is even right, extrapolating the numbers since the peak of 2009 the hamsters inside the computer suggest that next year I'll see 236.5 birds. I'm looking forward to the half.....
 

2013 Goals
Professional Goals
- In order to continue to enjoy world birding and holidays in warm places with colourful birds and a plentitude of fruity drinks, I need to remain employed. I keep telling myself how wonderful it would be to have another long break, but let's face it, I've not yet been back even a year and a half. My previous break followed almost 11 years of slogging, so I'm nowhere near deserving enough. Once you have drunk at the fount of happiness though.....

Personal Goals
- I was going to put "go birding more", but that would likely be doomed to failure. This year has been pretty bad - I've been out on the patch less than ever before, and been on fewer trips further afield. I've been stuck at home as often as not when in fact I wanted to be out. I thought that by working and working and working, I might be able to spend weekends birding, and by and large this has not happened, and not by a long shot. I don't see this changing, so I need to think of something else. I may have mentioned a brief epiphany I had earlier this year, which was that nearing middle-age, I encapsulated into one sentence what I wanted from life - to have a happy family, to see lots of nice birds, and to take increasingly good photos of them. You can probably spot the slight conflict there.....hmmm? So I think that for 2013 I may have to limit myself slightly, and at this particular moment, it's all about the photos. Yup, stuff the kids and wife, just take more photos. You might not think that possible, but believe me it is. I use my camera once a week if I am lucky, and that has to change if I'm to improve, so let's hope that 2013 sees lots of nice light and obliging subjects.
- I also feel the need to be more specific about a goal, else I will just vacillitate and do nothing, but happily for 2013 there is the small matter of my BOU list being now very close to 400. It would be churlish to ignore it, yet I will remain mostly sensible in terms of what I twitch.
 
Best Birding Moment
I've seen some pretty good birds this year, but all the rarities were eclipsed by one particular day out on the Flats. It was freezing, covered in snow, but I was out there giving it my all - would that I could manage that all year. I had met Steve in the Park, and suggested we head to the Flats where we would have a nice clear view and might possibly see some Lapwings. I ended the day close to 400 Lapwings, almost ten times as many as I'd seen on the patch before, but it was all about a half-hour period by the Alex. With Nick, Steve and Tim, I was enjoying a Med Gull stood out on the ice when a Snipe flew in and disappeared under the overhanging branches. It was then chased out by a Moorhen or something, before skittering back in, during which I managed a brief photo. Looking at the back of the camera I was amazed to see a very very short bill. "Jack Snipe!" Tim could see it from round the other side, and confirmed that it was the first record for over 30 years. Wowzers. But it got better. Once round the other side and enjoying cracking views of it bouncing up and down slightly, I happened to look up and six Golden Plover flew over. Two patch ticks in short order, and a memorable day.

Best UK Trip
I am struggling this time around, for my twitching antics, and indeed birding trips more generally have been few and far between. There have been no silly dashes to Scilly for instance, and though my one sea-watching trip to the SW was a good'un, with plenty of big Shears, there was no particular 'wow' moment like last year. Shetland was a good laugh, but is slowly losing its mystique, so what does that leave? Can I count the family holiday to Mull? Of course I can! Hen Harrier whilst eating breakfast, House Martins nesting in the eaves, roadside Eagles and much much more. Seeing my youngest daughter marvelling at a Puffin sat looking back at her, no more than three feet between nose and bill, remains very special, and it was a fantastic week of wonderful weather, beautiful scenery, cricket in the garden, and setting ourselves very very modest goals. Opening various bottles of vino was perhaps the most difficult thing I did all week....

Best Bird
2012's best bird is brought to you by the letter "C" and the number "3".Three letters all the same. Three magic words and a little hyphen. Cream-coloured Courser, May 22nd, 2012. I knew even then that no bird would better this one, and that I would be writing about it in this section six months later. The timing was quite awkward, but I bravely took an afternoon off mid-week, and with Tim, Tony and Shaun enjoyed a successful and spectacular twitch - an amazing bird in amazing surroundings. Pretty poor ratio of time behind the wheel to time watching the bird, but for once I'll say that I didn't care!

Worst Bird
Pechora Pipit, Unst, Shetland. Possibly one of my worst views of a rarity ever. Incredibly skulky bird, with various issues surrounding access and the like, some I-really-want-to-see-the-bird-but-I'm-not-going-over-the-fence-oh-go-on-then-you-go-over-fantastic-seen-it-can't-believe-you-went-over-that-fence etc, some pissed-off locals - all things that contribute to a great birding moment, and best of all, crappy views of the bird as it flew away. Nice. Not surprisingly, there are no photos.

Worst UK Trip
Once again a very tough one this year, but ultimately a very easy choice. It concerns driving back from Scotland with the entire family in tow, taking a massive detour and not seeing a Roller that had been there for a week and was there again the next day. 'nuff said. No photos of this one either..... Dammit.

 

Best Foreign Trip
Easy-peasy. Finland and Norway were great, Bulgaria was a real eye-opener and fantastic, birding as it ought to be here. But none of those places have Collared Trogons. Tobago does have Collared Trogons, and so Tobago wins. And it doesn't just win, it blows them all away. What a place, one of the best holidays I can remember (sorry kids!). The beach was yards away from our room, it was warm every day, there were Hummingbirds, and the Rum Punch flowed freely. About the same price as Shetland as well.......

Best Domestic Moment
Hiring a cleaner. And a gardener. Inspired move on my part, but it has to be said that Brownie Point-earning possibilities have gone downhill since this happened. You would think that as the provider, ultimately, of said services, that all related glory would pass to me, but no. Still, I'd rather have no BPs that have to do cleaning or gardening, so there you go. I made a really good boeuf bourginon the other day, is that any use?

Worst Domestic Moment
As above really. I have been absolved of all responsibility, so the opportunities for massive screw-ups have all but vanished. When I tell you that the other day I sharpened every single pencil in the house and gave myself a blister, perhaps you'll agree that it's time to relegate this particular category to the annals of history, or at least until such time as I'm unemployed again?

Most Amusing Photograph
Sadly fewer candidates than last year. The photo of Lee at the Hornemann's is quite amusing, but I only posted it a couple of week ago. No, the funniest photo actually precedes the one I'm going to put up, but unfortunately nobody had the presence of mind to take it, and so here instead is the one from the following morning. I forget exactly what happened, but it was something along the lines of our entire flat on Shetland being incapable of shopping for anything other than beer. We very reasonably asked Bradders and the Prof, still out flogging deceased horses, to stop by a shop and souce some toilet paper for us, and content in the knowledge that our good friends would come through for us, carried on drinking. Unfortunately the feeling in the Bradders/Prof camp was that we could bloody well buy our own toilet paper, so they drove straight past two toilet paper specialists and an Andrex factory and came straight back. In town later that evening we purloined two whole rolls from somewhere, and despite our acute need, proceeded to waste one on their car, which was wrapped most pleasingly in pastel white. The weather on Shetland being what it is, the following morning mere shreds remained, but it was still extremely funny to think of the guys having to pick soggy toilet paper off the wipers and door handles before leaving for their next Yellow-browed Warbler session.

And that's it! Thanks for all the comments and stuff this year, I hope 2013 delivers for you in every way. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

R.I.P. Duckzilla

Friends, I have sad, sad news to report. Duckzilla is dead.

Duckzilla, an immense and statuesque Indian Runner Duck, took up residence in Wanstead Park a few months ago, presumably having been dumped here by a cretinous owner, and was most often seen on Heronry Pond terrorising Mallards and swallowing loaves of Kingsmill whole. He (or she - also known as Daisy or Chamomile to some) won many friends, and was a favourite of all park-goers. Sadly Duckzilla had wings the size of small anchovies; a Penguin was more likely to take to the air. And this has proved to be Duckzilla's undoing. Not able to fly, and unlikely to ever be called nimble, the likely cause of death is DOG ATTACK.

Poor Duckzilla was found on the side of Perch pond the day before yesterday, with legs and rump mangled. No other part of Duckzilla had been touched, so this probably rules out fox or mink, both of which would have been after a meal. A dog is thus the most likely candidate, and if I know Wanstead, the only candidate. But nobody saw what happened, so this only speculation - somebody will know though, and I hope we find out. This time Duckzilla, next time a child. Call me melodramatic, but it's true, you read it here first.

There is a certain breed of dog owner, and they like certain breeds of dog. "Certain" is an anagram of "a cretin" funnily enough. Anyhow, rarely are these dogs nice, and rarely are they kept under control. I am aware that I am like a broken record, and spend an unhealthy amount of my time writing about dogs and dog-owners, but believe me when I say that they have a lot to answer for, and nobody is prepared to do anything about it. The last time I spoke to a dog walker - very politely I might add - about the nesting Skylarks, I got a torrent of abuse back. And not from a shaven-headed lout as you might expect - no, from three outwardly pleasant-looking young women, who unbeknownst to me had massive chips on their shoulders about something. So while usually it's a minority giving the majority a bad name, in Wanstead it's about fifty fifty, and perhaps higher than that. And the death of Duckzilla is the result. Why can't we have some Surface-to-Dog missiles on the Fred Wigg Tower?

2011: The Year in Review

So here we are once again, in a seemingly all too quick repeat of 2010


2012 Goals
Professional Goals
- I am employed, which is more than I was this time last year. What more can I ask for? Oh, perhaps that I remain employed. The climate is still treacherous in my chosen industry, but for now, I shall make hay while the sun shines.


Personal Goals
- To actually go birding. Just a bit. Pretty please.
- To win the coveted Golden Mallard, worth at least fifty quid. If I win it, I'm going to sell it.
This past year I had no birding goals at all. This resulted in me seeing a Short-toed Treecreeper, so a fat lot of use that was. Maybe I need to be more specific? I shall not twitch stupid birds just because they are ticks. How about that? Would I stick to it? What do you think?


 
Best Birding Moment
It has been a pretty fabulous year. I already gave best bird award to the Cory's Shearwater (here), so I need to choose something else. If you recall, there were a couple of contenders, so I think that day on Scilly, when we went over on a day trip expecting to see a Solitary Sandpiper (dull) and dipped it, but instead came away with a Black-and-White Warbler and a Bee-eater that showed so well that my photo of it made it into Birding World. Rounding the corner of one of those narrow Scilly lanes up near Maypole to ask a couple of guys what they were looking at... well, what can you say? Those that were with me can testify to the rapture. A great moment.


But was it better that the exhausted Jack Snipe on Shetland that was oblivious to our presence, so much so that it walked over my hand? A common bird perhaps, but certainly a moment that I will remember for a very long time indeed. I mean it walked over my hand. Not around my hand, or around me, but over me. I doubt I'll ever have anything like that happen again.

And let's not forget the Sandhill Crane that, with impeccable timing, decided to grace the area around Loch of Strathbeg for precisely the few days that I was on my way up to Shetland with an eight hour lay-off in Aberdeen. Arriving at the airport I hustled to a hire car and an hour later was stood on the edge of a field watching this stonking rarity, which of course was all the sweeter for knowing that my mates were either already on Shetland, grimacing, or stuck down in London. Boy did I feel smug, which is of course what birding is all about.

Best UK Trip
Hmmm, not like I've been anywhere, is it? The Waterthrush was ace, but it is the previous trip to Scilly that I remember more. Yes, the Bee-eater one again. Oh, and the Black-and-White Warbler. Did I mention those already? Possibly. What about the Semi-P that came within six feet? No? Well, what about the incredible sea-watch off Pendeen with double figures of Sabine's Gulls and double figure of Grey Phalaropes? Somewhat of a glorious weekend by anybody's standards, including my very low ones. Yes, that gets my vote. Me, Bradders and Crofty on a fly-by-night expedition to the south-west, utterly exhausting, but top notch birding that makes Cornwall seem not too far away at all.....

Best Bird
Two words. Cory's and Shearwater. Magnificent. 


Worst Bird
Easy. Short-toed Treecreeper. A boring brown excuse for a bird that could not possibly have been worth the £25 of diesel that it cost me to twitch it. For day one of its stay I was adament - I was not going, end of story. I willed it to die overnight, but it didn't, and so by day three, or maybe even day two (I have no shame) I found myself tootling across to Landguard to place a meaningless tick against it. OK, so I saw it well, well enough to photograph the steps in the wingbar, but seriously, who am I kidding? Pathetic.

Worst UK Trip
Most pleasingly, a very tough one this year. No stupid single-day twitches to the north-east, no nightmare walks down Blakeney Point. So that being the case, it has to be said that Shetland was disappointing, especially given the highs of last year. It was good, lots of decent bird, but it couldn't live up to the previous year. The weather, almost constantly westerly, was never going to produce much; that any eastern birds got through at all was a miracle. There was far too much plantation-bashing for birds that were patently non-existent, and we should have cut our losses and gone to the pub, or at least not been quite so relentless. Self-finding rarities is all well and good, but in truth we didn't stand a chance on the forecast we had, and my desire for continued flogging of habitat that had no birds in it unfortunately did not match that of Bradders. I tried to talk sense into him, but he was having none of it; consequently it was extremely hard work. Then again, I think that to appreciate Shetland, you have to realise that it can't be like 2010 every year, and if you go, you're taking a big gamble. Mine did not pay off, and the good birds were literally either side of my trip. Some you win, some you lose. I'm definitely going back - when it's good it's phenomenal. 

 

Best Foreign Trip
Easy-peasy. Not that I have many trips to choose from, but the February trip to the Baltics was awesome. Cold, but awesome. I have never experienced cold like it, and my clearest memory, other than ending up at forty-five degrees with what was left of the car in a snow-drift, is of walking early one morning from the car to a ferry terminal. It was only about two-hundred yards, so I didn't bother with gloves. Oh. My. God. I felt my hands beginning to die after about twenty paces, it was the most extraordinary feeling. It was, I think, minus twenty-six centigrade, plus (or minus again) whatever the wind was doing. A superb trip, not huge numbers of birds, but most of the targets bagged in some stunning scenery. We felt truly pioneering.

Best Domestic Moment
An improved performance this year, but I was fairly proud of hosting a tea-party for all of Muffin's friends and mothers. I am almost the lone bloke in the playground, so this was quite a coup, or so it felt. I managed to get (and keep) the house tidy, and produce a passable meal of various bits and pieces. I deferred the cake-making to Mrs L, but other than that it was all my own work, and nobody died. Or at least not that I noticed.

Worst Domestic Moment
Usually I have more choice here that any other category. Let me pop downstairs and ask Mrs L what she thinks - I failed to ask this last year and possibly therefore denied you the full and awful truth.


Right, I'm back, and do you know what, the woman is stumped! Yup, for the first time ever, she can't think of anything that I have foulded up. Hah! How about that then? Mind you, I did ask her what the worst one was; presumably she could rattle off dozens of minor incidents, but nothing particularly stands out as being especially bad. So, can I think of anything?


No, I can't. This must mean that I am now, after three years, a fully-fledged Domestic God. Well thank goodness for that. A long winding road, a few hiccups, but we started at five, we're still five, and all four walls are still standing. Shame then that I am now back at work. The garden has gone to wrack and ruin, and the lawn is now an attractive mesh of mud and moss, but hey, I'm always looking at the sky, so what does it matter?

Most Amusing Photograph
This is a photo of Jos sea-watching in Estonia. The weather was so severe that we very nearly dipped the sea entirely, but when we finally managed to get to it, it was one of those great feelings. We had found the sea, it was time to sea-watch. From the sea.

No annual review should be without a pranged car it seems, so here is the offering from 2011. This was taken only a couple of hours after the sea-watching photograph above, and was most unfortunate. Our lovely Renault Laguna was never the same again, and though we made it back to our ferry, we then transferred to a Suzuki Shitter which was nowhere near as good. Though someone did manage to get caught speeding in it....

So, another year done. What will the next one bring?
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Better late than never

Well, at long long last the wait is over. Almost anticlimactic, but today two Northern Wheatears graced our humble patch. The Wheatear anticipation chart, were it to be represented as a graph, would see the excitement curve building from about mid-February, hitting the top of the chart by about the first week in March. It would hover near the top for about ten days, ten days of very early morning starts, and then as the Wheatearless days continue, gradually begin to decline. I have to admit that personally I was well on the downward slope. I've been smashing the Flats almost every day since the 7th of March, and every day I have come home disappointed.

Not so today. I was actually on the way home, about to turn onto the main track through the Skylark area, when I espied some birds in a distant Hawthorn. They looked to be Mipits, but on the point of lowering my bins one made a brief sally, and a pulse-quickening flash of white seared itself on my retina. Could it be? I didn't really believe that it could, my brain has been well and truly Wheatear-addled for some time now, but on getting closer there was no doubt. I phoned Tim, and as I did so a second bird popped up before dropping down again. Two Wheatears! I phoned Nick, on the other side of the Flats, and then went to talk to the two Wheatears in the manner of a worried but cross parent.

"Where have you been? The other birders and I have been worried sick. You were told to be here no later than March 15th, and it's the 30th now. We've been waiting and waiting, not knowing if anything had happened. We tried phoning you but you're not evolutionarily sophisticated enough. Terrible thoughts go through your head, so you know what sunshine? You're grounded 'til further notice!"

The Wheatears took off and promptly disappeared, the equivalent of a truculent teenager barging their way out past you and slamming the front door. Tim then arrived to no Wheatears, but luckily Nick picked them up a few minutes later near West Copse (which had an entirely predictable male Lesser Spotted Woodpecker in it by the way). We made our way over to see Nick pointing at them flying off, but we couldn't see them and half an hour of searching produced nothing more than Meadow Pipits. At least someone else saw them though, as I didn't have my camera - a deliberate (and successful) strategy designed to tease out Wheatears into performing right in front of me.

Nonetheless, after this long wait it would seem churlish not to have a photo of a Wheatear, so here is one from last year. It doesn't really matter. Wheatears, now,  are like, y' know, so last year. Innit.



Back home, writing this, tapping feverishly at the keyboard in the excitement* of being able to share this with you, my phone rang. Oh, had Nick refound the Wheatears?

"Ring Ouzel!!"

"Gah!" I replied, or something equally eloquent, and hurried to put my shoes back on. Apparently I then ran out the door shouting something about Ouzels and no I didn't want a tea. As you probably gathered, I'm back now, and pleased to say that I got it - a typically smart male, and in the exact area that they always get in. Whether or not it is one of the same birds returning to a favoured stop-off location we will never know, though it is tempting to speculate. Though you would not be able to tell, I took my camera this time, so am able to bring you this masterpiece. This is almost an exact replica of a photo from a previous year. Same football pitch, might even be the same bird.

Patch birding - there is nothing more exciting.

 

* you had to be here