Now you see it, now you don't

I had a lot of fun today taking photos of a Sedge Warbler. The singing bush of choice was a bramble, and brambles typically have a lot of branches, twigs, thorns, dead bits, leaves. In photography, these are called distracting elements. Anyway, whilst almost absurdly close, it never really posed in the perfect spot, that is to say, the perfect spot as far as I was concerned. As far as the perfect spot for Miss Sedge Warbler goes, it was probably spot on. There was no Miss Sedge Warbler however, there was just me. Now a Sedge Warbler is not a moth. You can't catch it, pop it in the fridge overnight, and then carefully position it on a nice bit of wood the next morning whilst it is comatose and snap away to your heart's content. You basically have to work with what you have got.

In the old days, what you saw is what you got. The slide was the slide, and that was it. These days it isn't so clear cut. If there is a branch, you can zap it. A stray twig? Kapow, and gone! It takes quite a lot of work, but essentially almost anything is possible. Photographers call this image optimization. Anyhow, back to the Sedgie. I managed to get a clear shot of it on occasion, but there were loads of distracting elements. A session in Photoshop however, and el Segdie is singing from a clean, distraction-free perch. Happy days.

But this poses a few questions, not least that having done all the hard work, do I actually prefer the image with the clean background or not?. Other more interesting questions might encompass whether it is right to do so or not? The image does not represent what actually occured. Or maybe it does, just not quite all of it. Have I messed with nature? (you know, moved a Shrike's larder for instance). No. Have I got out the secateurs and messed with a bird's bush? Euphemisms aside, only metaphorically. Does removing a few twigs fundamentally alter the image, which shows a Sedgie having a bit of a sing? Is the Sedge Warbler now somehow unnatural? Could I enter this in a competition, or would it be classed as cheating?

What do you think. In an html coding triumph, I have managed to work out mouse-hovering. Do please try it out. In theory, if you hover your mouse cursor over the photo below, you should see the original. Move it off again, you'll see my optimized version.

Anyhow, seeing as how everyone is a photographer these days, what do you think?

Dolly decadence

1). It is a nice sunny day, and Bella, relaxing in the garden, is enjoying a nice glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc.

2). Baby Hat gets involved.

3. It all goes wrong.

Why?

Blogging is a funny old thing. Collectively we must waste HOURS reading them. Some of us also waste hours writing them. Why do we do it? Why do we sit in front of glowing screens, staring blankly at words and looking at pictures, when we could be getting on with jobs round the house, or in my case, actually getting a job? Is this simply modern life?

I would like to think that someone, somewhere, bypasses all this, and just has their butler print out blog posts whilst they consult a weighty tome. Reclining in a creaky old leather armchair in their library, they ring a small bell.

"Perkins!"

"Sir?"

"Perkins, bring me the latest from that chappy in Wanstead, wotsisname?"

"Lethbridge, Sir?"

"Ah yes, that's the fellow, Leftwidge. Splendid. Oh and Perkins?"

"Sir?"

"About time for a large scotch, don't you think?"

"Indeed Sir"

A short while later the flunky appears bearing one of those small silver platters, upon which is a sheaf of paper and a tumbler.

*Sup*
*cough, splutter*

"Perkins! Have you read this?! Nonsense! Garbage! Not even about birds! Tripe I tell you, absolute tripe! Delete it from my favourites forthwith, and bring me something else. What about that, er, um, oh god, wotsisname, er, oh. Oh nevermind, just bring me another scotch, bloody internet, don't know why I waste my time reading such rubbish anyway, if wasn't for the downhill slide of the bloody wireless...."

At this point, and in the spirit of all that is blogging, I was going to go through the minutiae of my life from about last Tuesday onwards, but even I can't bear the thought, so you're spared until another post. In anticipation of what will surely be thoroughly scintillating, and a propos of nothing at all, here is sunset on Canvey Island yesterday whilst dipping a Savi's Warbler.

Lazy Birdless Days

I've barely lifted binoculars to my eyes these past few days, can you believe it? The best bird I've seen (and bearing in mind I've barely left the garden) has been a Swallow. Or maybe a Kestrel (which is good for the garden). This is the price of being ridiculously relaxed, and it still being the Easter holidays. The weather has been glorious, so glorious that all the good birds have continued to the Arctic Circle without stopping in Wanstead, so by schlepping around in the garden I've not really missed much. Of course I've been hoping for a flyover Honey Buzzard, but without kidnapping Mark P and installing him in a matola on the roof to attract migrating raptors, my chances are extremely slim.

In the absence of birds, the kids and I have been bumming about. The paddling pool is out - no waders yet, though there is now so much muck in it that it looks pretty a good bet - and we've been doing a serious amount of playing in the garden. A couple of short trips, a couple of parties, nothing ambitious whatsoever, and we're all extremely happy. Me particularly, as we now have beer...

Patch overflowing with Waders

Wanstead is not known for Waders. Regular readers will recall that when a humble Dunlin visited the patch last year, it sparked a twitch of epic proportions. Local birders not able to drop everything at 0.2 seconds notice and hoon it down to Jubilee Pond were left squirming in their office chairs, producitivity diminishing to the point where their bosses said "oh just go then", but happily the bird stayed all day and we were all able to marvel at its, well, Dunlinness.

This year we're doing rather well. Though I doubt that the Stone Curlew will be topped, with a distinct lack of suitable habitat we've also had several Snipe, a Common Sandpiper, a Little Ringed Plover, and several Lapwings. We're basically up there with Rainham as the premier site in London for Waders. Today however we edged in front, with a stonking Wood Sandpiper on the Bandstand (Angel) pond. Wood Sand is basically annual, though more usually in summer, but they rarely show well, so it was a pleasure to finally see one properly on the patch. 


Look at that beauty! More importantly, look at that habitat! Appreciate its supreme attractiveness to Waders! Appreciate it while you can though, because it will soon be gone. Bandstand Pond is basically a very small and shallow depression at the southern end of the Flats, right next to the main road, and very disturbed. It is deep enough in winter to host dabbling ducks and gulls, but it typically evaporates completely by early summer. I'd estimate that this morning it was about 8cm deep in the very middle. It's been a glorious sunny day today, so it's probably now about 7cm, and with the fine weather set to continue, will likely be gone by the end of the week. But for now it is our very own (and very productive) wader scrape. 

London Marathon!

Before you ask, no I didn't. And no I couldn't. But it is a great day out, and a lot of fun. I opted to plonk myself at Canary Wharf, which is the 19 mile mark, and arrived early enough to see some of the elite athletes run past, and stayed long enough to see some of the fatties walking past. And of course everything in between, which is the real draw and makes the event what it is. Let's face it, nobody really cares that a running machine from Kenya finished in just over two hours. What people really want to see is Wombles and Pantomine Horses. Top marks to the policemen and firefighters doing it in their full work kit, to the bloke with a washing machine strapped to his back, and to the two guys carrying a surfboard....

In which I apologise for a flurry of needless year-ticks.

I need to apologise for seeing too many birds. Sorry. I didn't mean to, honest. It kind of just happened. I blogged what seems like only recently about only having seen 121 species. The new number is quite a few more than that, a disappointingly whopping 145. People more tragic than I would be able to tell you exactly what they were on last year at the same point, but obviously I have no idea at all. By the way, on a totally different subject, Muffin's homework over the holidays is to add 49 to 145. Pathetic isn't it? Would have thought the school would have set more for such a long break, but there you go.

Anyway, back to the year-listing that I'm not doing. I took the kids to see a Night Heron in Essex during the week; they needed it for their lists, just like they needed the Woodchat Shrike (which got eaten by a Sparrowhawk by the way). We found the bird no problem, and watched it for about half an hour, taking turns with the scope. During that time, the bird did absolutely nothing, and my childrens' lasting impression of Night Heron will be of a bird sat in a tree with no head. So, a year-tick, but one I think I have successfully argued away, oh, and I might have needed it for Essex as well. Unfortunately we heard both Gropper and Nightingale on the walk back, so two gratuitious and unneccessary ticks to add to the list.



Today, in a break with tradition, I twitched the Black Stork in the New Forest. I have been told several times in the past that the only way to see a Black Stork is to be in its path as it flies down a coast, or to be at a pin-pointed roost site before dawn. This was the latter, so filthy Hawkins and I were on the road at 3am, arriving at the appointed tree at about 5am. Unfortunately we got the wrong tree, and didn't find the right one (and then only with help from Lee Evans who had been there the previous evening) until about two hours after first light. Black Storks apparently get up about ten minutes before first light, so it was no surprise that the tree was empty. Luckily for us the bird was in the plantation right next to the roost site, as once these birds go, they really go, and for a huge bird they are remarkably elusive. Here is an ultra-pro photograph of it in flight.

A £10,000 usage fee applies for this shot.

So, all very nice, played for and got and so on, but rather unfortunately the New Forest is rather rich in birdlife, and we were treated to several male Redstarts, Tree Pipits, Woodlarks, Crossbills, Cuckoos and Goshawks over the course of the morning, and as if that were not enough, once back home I found a Lesser Whitethroat. Oops.