Temperature guage

This post I expect to go down like a lead balloon but I am going to write it anyway. It’s actually boring me writing it, but what the hell, live a little.

For many years I have been obsessed with the temperature. Specifically, how cold is it? Will my plants survive? How ironic then that it was excessively high temperatures that were the cause of recent problems…..though as I said in retrospect that might have been the best thing to ever happen as it appeared to have killed off 100% of insect pests and 90% of the leaves have already grown back or are starting to, so a clear "win". So we’re back to the other end of the thermometer. Everyone still with me? If you’re not, let me summarise. Hot = good, cold = bad.

Currently it is cold that is bothering me. This morning when I checked the fancy gizmo on my shelf that has a wireless link to the greenhouse it showed as 8.6 degrees in there, and it had dropped to 7.4 degrees overnight. Gah! 7.4! That’s freezing! Well not literally obviously, but it’s a far cry from the heady heights of 30 degrees which I was achieving regularly all summer. At this time of year the biggest problem is the differential between day and night time temperatures. Last weekend was really rather nice, and as a result the greenhouse hit 19 degrees. When I popped in during the day it felt really nice, but it more than halved overnight. In the summer when it’s 30 during the day, it never drops below 20 at night, so nothing stops growing. Right now the plants must be very confused, not knowing if they’re coming or going. It is the same every autumn/winter of course, but the last few years I have not cared and simply buried my head in the sand. This year is different. 

Meanwhile in the house the morning temperature was 17.5 degrees. That’s not too bad, but as I mentioned there are a lot of plants still actively growing new flushes of leaves in response to the August furnace incident, and this isn't really warm enough to see these through to their conclusion. They might terminate or become stunted, and I can already see a slowdown. When the first batch of new growth started, in September – read all about it here, 3 people already did! – it was still sufficiently warm and light that the new leaves positively raced away. Those that started in October however, perhaps only a couple weeks later, have been much slower. Away on Shetland and then working in Glasgow I came back to not much change given the number of days that had elapsed. And worse still there are some including my favourite plant that have only just started in the last two days. There is nothing I can do, the plants decide when they will grow, and that is that. I’ve moved it closer to the window for more light, but the lack of heat may end up causing a stall.

Enter heating. This is what the industrial revolution has brought us and it is time. I suppose that it is nothing short of a miracle that Chateau L has not yet this year had to resort to central heating, much less the underfloor heating where the plants are. So last Sunday morning I switched both on, coinciding neatly with our free energy period. It took a while to get going but it was lovely. Warm feet! Warm air! It was so pleasant that it caused me to chill a bottle of Rosé and for us all to have a very protracted Mediterranean family lunch! But outside of those free weekend periods, ouch. We recently got given a smart meter from our supplier. It can show you at any point how much money you have spent on electricity or gas, and all last week those numbers ticked up much faster than at any point for many months. I have a bad feeling that I could be staring a very large bill in the face in a few months, especially if the predicted Siberian winter comes to pass.

That said, the news from across the country of late suggests that it already has!!

Can't beat a Fieldfare

Fieldfare is possibly my favourite thrush, though Siberian is a close call. Unfortunately most of those turn out to be either fictional or recently-purchased. The Fieldfares on Wanstead Flats however are very real and entirely wild. Despite my sterling efforts in reuniting ex-dogs with their sad owners, Nick is still far more compassionate than I am, and when the snow started he went around and plonked a few apples on a couple of Hawthorns near the viz-mig point to help the birds get through it. These were found pretty much instantaneously, and so far these treats (along with coconut and oats) have been enjoyed by not only Fieldfare, but also by Jay, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Song Thrush, Dunnock, Robin, Blackbird and Waxwing). Hawthorns are fairly tangled affairs, so getting a clean perch is verging on the impossible, but I spent a happy half hour there this lunchtime. Mainly this was to get out of the House of Vomit I currently reside in, I figure I can't catch it if I'm stood ankle-deep in snow in the middle of the Flats. All too soon it was time to get back to the day job though, and to once again run the gauntlet of extreme bacterial infection. So far I've not succumbed, thanks largely I feel to large and regular dosages of cask strength Caol Ila. I'm a big believer in preventative medicine...

Flocking in Essex

Flock flock flock flock flock. Every January I try and make a winter visit to the Essex coast for some winter birding. Last year I went at the beginning of the month, where if you remember I knelt in a turd. No such poor luck today, but the birds were equally good. Once again Bradders took his rally car, and our chief scarecrow-spotter Hawky made up the team. Today was all about flocks.



Started on the Blackwater estuary, where we could find no interesting Grebes or Divers, but a flock of over two hundred Golden Plover were extremely nice, and the sound of their wings as they flew in tight formation was pretty damn cool. Heaps of Brents here too, and some flocks of Goldeneye in mid-channel.

A quick stop at Braxted Park where the regular flock of Hawfinches were seen, or at least some of them - we counted ten in the tall trees just within the golf course. A great bird to see, and an Essex tick for me, but a real shame they are so scarce. Our next flocks were near the Strood, at the causeway across [to] Mersea. Masses of Dunlin on the falling tide, but best of all a wintering flock of Lapland Buntings in a weedy field. We counted around 30 birds, and bins etc were unnecessary as the flock wheeled around overhead giving the classic "peew" and "brrrrrrrrr" calls. Easily the largest number I've ever seen together, including Shetland, and another Essex tick. I was on fire!



We tried the estuary from Mersea for Divers again, but all I could do was string a Cormorant until Bradders noticed. Boring!  We gave up on the sea and headed to Abberton, where we encountered eight distant Smew, but much nearer six each of Tundra Bean and Pink-footed Geese. I can never recall either seeing birds this close, or seeing them swimming on the water, and I can only think of one time when I've seen them together, so this was very instructive. In a nutshell, Brown and Orange vs Silver and Pink. Goose identification, done.



A distant Ringtail Hen Harrier at the same site was a bonus Essex Tick, and we also twitched a burger van with notable success. Meanwhile I missed a Goosander on the Perch Pond back in Wanstead which was a bit gripping, but I did have an unlikely drake flying across the Flats a couple of years ago so I am not too gutted, and I can spend tomorrow looking for it.

A quick note on not year listing

Going really really well. I'm on 111, which I'd reached by 3rd of January in both 2009 and 2010. So far then, this is easily my worst (or best, depending on how you look at it) performance in recent years. I have not caved into adding it onto Bubo, which might induce competitive urges, and I only added it up for the purposes of this post (after having read the one I linked to above, and got curious). So far, so good.

Why I like Winter

I am in a relaxed birding frame of mind. Autumn is over, twitching is over, winter has begun. I can do as much or as little birding as I please, safe in the knowledge that I have ticked everything already and no longer need to bolt out of the house at the slightest hint of a rarity. In fact, I am so uninterested in twitching at the moment that last night I took the battery out of my pager and instead put it in my portable LW radio so I could listen to the cricket in bed. Turned out I would have been better served by going to sleep, but nonetheless I reckon I have my priorities right.

Whilst spring is my favourite season, mainly due to massive Wheatear anticipation (~110 days to go...), I think winter comes a close second. There is just something about flocks of winter thrushes and finches, something about large flocks of geese and waders. Hen Harriers floating above fields, Merlins tanking along the sea wall, Purple Sandpipers on the groynes. Clear crisp air, lovely mid-morning light.


Birding no longer entails abandoning the spouse and children. You can be out at first light and still have breakfast with the family. You can have full day out in the field, see loads of fantastic birds, and be back for afternoon tea and Brownie Point accumulation. Whilst in the spring and autumn, you felt you just had to be out, now you can peer out the window at the frozen puddles and fog and decide that you don't actually need to go birding. The importance of this cannot be stressed highly enough - you can gain BPs merely by staying at home in the warmth and drinking tea. "I'd really like to go out" you say, "but I reckon I'll do some things around the house. Any chance of a cup of tea?"

On the patch, a whole new suite of possibilities open up. Cold weather movements might bring an interesting duck to the Park, a rare Goose or Wader might fly over- Golden Plover is amongst my most-wanted. Stonechats come back to the Flats, as do Snipe. And whilst birds come back to the open areas of Wanstead, people forsake it. The denizens of Long Wood abandon their, err, liaisons, the joggers melt away, and even dog-walkers seem to reduce in number. Yup, there is something to be said for winter birding.

Having said all that, I've not been out this week yet, Pudding has been ill - a persistent cough, and it would not be fair to drag her across the Flats. Instead I've been watching the garden. As I wrote earlier in the week, I've been rewarded by the Coal Tit, and fabulous views of a Jay that has learnt where the peanut feeder is. I had a flock of Redwings in the big tree, and Great Tits and the like seem suddenly more visible. They say that the first proper cold spell is on the way. Hope it brings something good.

The Onset of Winter Birding

There has been a lot of net chat about the death of autumn and the early onset of winter, as demonstrated by the early invasion of Waxwings and northerly winds. Generally people seem upset, but I am not one of them. I've been looking forward to a change of scene for some time. Of course, come February I'll be moaning about the everlasting winter and getting excited about my first Wheatear, but right now, the change in the weather strikes me as just about perfect.

In terms of the patch, I reckon I've seen just about all I'm likely to see in terms of autumn specialities. As each week passes, that Yellow-browed Warbler or Red-breasted Flycatcher becomes increasingly unlikely, and my thoughts start turning to interesting Ducks and rare Finches. That said, since Shetland it's been difficult to get out there and do it justice. My early morning jaunts are no longer possible due to it being dark, and weekends have been spent birding on the coast - my choice. I've managed a couple of mornings on the Flats, and a few viz-mig sessions from the garden, which whilst relatively productive, have lacked anything new.

This week is half-term, so no serious birding is planned. Today, for example, has mostly been spent playing Snakes and Ladders, building Lego, and shopping. Live the dream. In between these activities I looked at the sky for about half an hour. This short stint produced only the second Skylark to actually enter garden airspace, and yet another Pied Wagtail, the fifth garden record. The wonders of listing. If Nick's reports from the Flats are anything to go by, Pied Wags are everywhere at the moment, which would explain why I've had three in the last fortnight.  Pretty exciting I can tell you, though you probably needed to be here....



Slightly further afield, my London list has stalled, mainly due to my apathy at continuing to press forward with it. I've added Lapland Bunting and Penduline Tit to reach the dizzy heights of 202. Whoopee. I passed up on a couple of Great Grey Shrikes due to not wanting to drive anywhere, and I missed yet another Spoonbill and Hen Harrier this weekend, which had I been camped out on the sea-wall at Rainham....

Nevermind, it's not important. I've very much enjoyed birding the capital this year, I've discovered several new sites, and added a pile of species to my London list, which is important. Very. And anyway, the year isn't over yet, though a couple of days ago I caught myself thinking about January 1st 2011, and was forced to give myself a very severe dressing down....