Look who's Back!

Out birding Wanstead Flats this morning and I heard a funny noise I could not place. No, not a Robin. A repeated "Whoop whoop whoop" led me to Wanstead's favourite escape, the White-cheeked Turaco, sat in a tree being hassled by Magpies and Jays. Despite its suspect origins (it's on my list!) it's a thrilling bird to see. When it flies, revealing the red wings, it's simply breathtaking.


As I was very near home, I dashed back to get the kids, but returning with them there was no sign. How can such a huge and brightly-coloured bird just disappear? On the short walk home, explaining about dipping to my disappointed offspring, we had just got to our street when I noticed it in a bush above our heads. It was about five feet away. We stopped talking about dipping.




We had simply wonderful views as this thing peered down at us, before it flew off into nearby gardens - gardens on our side of the street! We ran the short distance to the house and dashed out into the garden. I stood on a little garden table, cupped my hands together, and made a "Whoop whoop" kind of sound. Twenty seconds later and it was in our garden with the whole family watching. I continued to "Whoop" at it until our neighbour came out....

Reed Bunting Gallery

This Reed Bunting posed beautifully on the reed-mace this morning. Unconcerned by my presence, I was able to get to within about 4 metres, and took somewhere in the region of 300 shots. If you're technically-minded and have a fondness for waterproof clothing, I used the Canon EF 400mm f5.6L, tripod-mounted. Tripods are boring and tiresome, but it's difficult to argue against the extra sharpness that can be achieved. ISO was 400, and exposure was f7.1 at 1/1600 for most of these. AI Servo, AV priority, all 45 focus points activated. I've been hoping to take these photos for some time, but circumstances have always conspired against me. This morning however, it all came good.

Father-son Bonding. With Birds.

" Hi there!"

This post concerns a short trip to the Highlands, and will contain Chaffinches. If you suffer from Chaffinchophobia, or just don't think you can cope with a lot of Chaffinches, you should skip to the next post, which whilst not written yet, will be about Rainham, and have a lot of Reed Buntings in it. If you also struggle with Buntings, well, that's a problem. Come back tomorrow.

So, whilst our trip to Scotland was a family holiday, I also managed a short trip away, barely twenty-four hours in fact. Billed as father-son bonding, I have to say it was a great success. As you know, all my children have been brain-washed into liking birds. This is particularly true with Muffin, who, more than the other two, seems to be genuinely interested. Or he's just better at lying than the other two. I promised him a bird-filled adventure, with particular emphasis on raptors, his favourites.

We left after lunch on Tuesday, and by mid-afternoon he was looking at his first Osprey at Loch of the Lowes. He found this amazing, and as he whispered "Osprey" with a mixture of awe and surprise, I could only smile. I have no recollection of seeing my first Osprey as a kid, and indeed it is possible that I never in fact saw one, and that my first one was as recently as 2006 at Loch Leven. Reliving my childhood through my children? Never. We also saw a Red Squirrel here, and some of the tamest Siskin I have ever come across. I left the awestruck child with the Osprey, and had a bit of a play.


I won't go in to huge detail on what we saw when, how and so on, that would just be boring, much like repetitively posting Chaffinch pictures, but suffice it to say we cleaned up. We got Ptarmigan from Glenshee without leaving the car, and Muffin self-found two Black Grouse feeding in a tree in the Aviemore area. The following morning we got a stunning male Capercaillie at Loch Garten, an experience worthy of a post all of its own. In the Findhorn Valley we saw at least 3 Golden Eagles, including two in the same scope, Red Grouse on the Farr Road, and then a showy Crested Tit at Loch an Eilein. We didn't go looking for White-tailed Eagle, and bar that, the only thing we missed were Crossbills. In addition to all these "ticks", we saw 3 Peregrine, another 2 Osprey, 50+ Buzzards, a Sparrowhawk and 3 Kestrels.




The best bit of the trip, both for him and for me, was when he found the Black Grouse. I had heard the rasping call, but couldn't find them. Then he said he thought he'd found them - just with bins. He gave me pretty good directions, and sure enough I soon had two Black Grouse in the scope. Are kids eyes simply incredible, or is there something else at play here? He was delighted, and this one moment may yet make him a birder. I don't think I have ever seen him so thrilled.



So what else? Well we had fish and chips for dinner, slept in the car in the middle of nowhere, got up at 5am for the RSPB Abernethy Mallard Watch (see what I mean about needing a separate post?), and had a marvellous time. We didn't talk about Lego once, but I did have to try and answer a lot of questions about Jupiter. When he gets to science at school he'll be ace at the nature stuff, but he may have some rather strange ideas about the laws of physics.

So, my poor child is now even more abnormal and geeky than he already was. I wonder how long before he rejects all of this as uncool and detrimental to his social standing? I reckon I've still got a few years left.

Prepare to be Bored Rigid

I have just been to Scotland with the family. Consequently Hoopoe and Black-winged Stilt are not on my London list. Bummer, but what can you do? I refuse to suspend real life just in case a bird might turn up. On the plus side, we had a lovely time with the kids, I saw a different Hoopoe up there, and also put two rather shady ticks well and truly to bed with excellent views of Ptarmigan and Capercaillie on a quick trip to the Highlands.

I forgot to take my camera, so I'm afraid there are no photos of any of this.

If you believed that last sentence, you are a mug....

Meall a' Bhuachaille and Creagan Gorm, from Tulloch Moor

No, prepare to be bored rigid by my holiday snaps, including approximately 30,000 Chaffinches. It is difficult to know where to start really. The first few days were spent in Fife not doing a great deal. Somewhere in the middle Muffin and I had twenty-four hours in the Highlands and cleaned up, I mean really cleaned up, and then the final day was on the coast on the East Neuk. So there is a lot to tell. I know, I'll start with a Chaffinch.

Only 29,999 to go...

Meanwhile not at Rainham....

"Hey look at me! Pretty nice eh? Shiny yellow beak, nice orbital ring, stunning black plumage, and a lovely song to boot. What more could you possibly want in a bird? What, a stupid crest, silly curved beak and floppy wings? Don't be silly! Huh? Stupid bendy legs that are way too long for the body? And Pink? Absurd, get a grip! Trust me, Blackbirds are the way forward."

Happy Easter!

I'm not at all religious, so I don't know a whole lot about Easter. Muffin however appears to have already been indoctrinated. His school is not a faith school, but at significant events in the Christian calendar they invite various people in, and they appear to have grasped this opportunity with both hands. And a guitar, naturally.

So today I have learned a lot about Jesus. Very nice and all that, but not really my thing. What is interesting is that the kids don't bat an eyelid whilst they talk about crucifiction and death. They must get a watered down version of the Easter story, light on detail. Mind you, they are all five or six, so reducing them to tears with the barbarity of life in Roman times is probably not the best way to successfully spread the word.


But whilst I'm not a buyer of the message, it is nice to spend some quality time as a larger family, Hoopoes at Rainham not withstanding... Gutted, but there was just no way I could get there today. Mrs L would have crucified me..... So I let it pass, and have attepted not to be grumpy about it. Instead I played a bit of football with the kids, and had an Easter Egg hunt in the garden. Jesus organised one of these for his disciples, in the Garden of Gethsemane I think, and they all enjoyed it so much that the tradition has passed down through the ages, the only change being that we now use chocolate eggs, and sometimes rabbits wrapped in foil as well. There are some parts of Easter that I'm only too happy to help perpetuate.




The football was particularly entertaining. Hilbs has his stag-do coming up in a few weeks, and part of the day is devoted to this strange pastime. Seeing as I gave up all forms sport about twenty years ago, I've been exploiting my children in order to try and get some practice in before the big day, and in doing so have discovered quite how hopeless I am. I cannot for the life of me kick a ball in a straight line. I gave up in the end and just took photos of them all.


Sorry, no birds today. There is a possibility I may be granted the chance to go and see some tomorrow. If I'm good. Flowers would apparently help my cause.

Not sure really. Many things.

"It doesn't take a year to learn how to do washing if you actually concentrate"

A direct quote from Mrs L only recently, and rather damning. As a result of Lesser Kestrels, Ring Ouzels and suchlike, I've done very little washing in the last two weeks. When this was noticed by my beloved, I tried to deflect the inevitable criticism by saying it was too difficult, and that the additional complexity arising from the amount of wool in the house meant it wasn't fair. It fell on deaf ears, and I fear I have lost some BPs. The washing situation is now resolved, no thanks to me I might add, but really I could have done better. The silly season has not even started yet, and already I'm failing in my basic duties. Really I should spend the hours of darkness when no birds are visible doing all of this stuff, thus leaving the days clear, but then I wouldn't be able to sit in front of the computer for hours and hours every evening. This is a real problem.

Yes, blogging takes time, even this one. One of my favourite reads, Not Quite Scilly, has unexpectedly wound up, citing too much time as one of the reasons. This is a great shame. The other reason, if I understand him right, is a fear of becoming stale and repetitive after two years blogging. Luckily, there is no chance of that here! Perish the thought! No, here you are treated to constant innovation, birdy talk of a varied and stimulating nature, and top parenting tips. If I ever start to detail the minutae of my domestic trials, or post endless photos of mis-identified Gulls, that's when you need to start worrying.

Of course, that would never happen, but believe it or not, writing this does take time. Sometimes of course I just bash it out - though you would never be able to tell - but it can also be more involved on occasion. You are able to write for as long as you want, there is no word limit. Blogging does not encourage thrift or thought. If I felt so inclined, I could just waffle on and on for ages and ages, rather than carefully craft a post of just the right pace and length. Editing? What's that? Writing that recent article for Birdwatch magazine was one of the hardest things I have done for a long time. I was restricted to 750 words. 750?! That's nothing! By the time I have got to 750 words on here, I may have a vague idea of what the post is going to be about, but really I'm just getting warmed up. So to be all wrapped up, not a chance! After my first pass, I was on about 1600 words, every one critical. I wept as I deleted whole paragraphs....

All blog posts need a photo, even a filler. Believe it or not, it does not even need to be related in any way to the subject of the post. No, it doesn't matter. Just insert any old picture and you're done. Like this Reed Bunting for instance. You will not find any mention of a Reed Bunting today, but somehow, it just works. I have no idea how.

So, to Wanstead, which is the whole point of this blog. The bird death saga rumbles on. The stupidity of the local populace continues to beggar belief. I've seen families walking past the "Biohazard" signs and stepping over the high-viz tape to go and feed the ducks by the lake shore. Fail. The Corporation had to install proper security fencing to stop them. Personally I'd have let Darwinism take it's course, but there you go. The latest news is that the test results are back. The poison was an agricultural pesticide used to control fungus and insects, typically by food producers. I may have the wrong end of the stick, but it could be that the people involved were not looking to kill off the local corvid population, but instead had just wanted to get rid of this stuff and so had left it on top of a bin.... In other words, idiocy, rather than malice. The poison may even have been in that margarine tub. I had thought that somebody had stumbled across the dead birds before me, and had put as many as they could in the tub and left it visible for the Forest Keepers to deal with. But who knows, this is all idle speculation. Two local men were arrested, and were bailed until the end of April, so we will no doubt find out more then. The good news is that the area is now safe, and there is no further risk to either wildlife or people, even stupid ones. The even better news is that the car-park remains closed - long may that remain the case.

Mrs L banned me from going out today. This was a great shame as the Pallid Swift in Suffok was showing very well all morning. I would very much have liked to have seen a Swift that to all intents and pusposes looks exactly like a normal Swift, except, well, less browny. And she claims not to understand twitching! Honestly.

I managed to get some birding in though, employing extreme cunning. Today is the first day of the holidays, and by 10am Muffin was climbing the walls. I altruistically voluteered to go and exercise him on Wanstead Flats with a football. And binoculars. Shhhhhhh. There were Chiffchaffs everywhere, a few singing Blackcaps, and a single Willow Warbler. Most of the time I had my eyes on the sky though, hoping to see a Swift, even a boring paleish one. Wouldn't that have been something?! I didn't get any hirundines either, though Tim and Stuart had a Sand Martin over Heronry. No matter, plenty of time left to get one of those.

Right, this post is now the perfect length, and has reached it's natural conclusion. Satisfied, I can stop. This has nothing to do with dinner being ready in twenty minutes and the need to peel carrots. Wanstead Birder - Uncompromising.