Foolishness

Today I learned that I do not know what a Garden Warbler looks like. Given how much I've been pattering on about a) arrogance and b) having seen nearly 400 birds, this makes me look very foolish indeed. And as such it is well worth blogging about. I mean not extensively or anything, but enough to show at least some contrition. I have a funny feeling I've fallen foul of this particular ID conundrum before, but I cannot recall exactly when that was. I might be wrong, but if I'm right I can add "not learning from my mistakes" to my list of mistakes. And of course it was obvious, and had I got further than the head of the bird, then maybe I might have spotted it. Arguably the head was enough too. Oops. The internet though is pretty sharp, and before too long I had 'correspondence' from two independent sources wondering if I hadn't made a bit of a faux pas. Well, I had. Bugger. On the plus side, and we're clutching at straws here, it shows people read it. And they're actually birders by the looks of things!

Anyhow, just in case you missed it, it was on this post, which I have conviently rewritten with the wonderful benefit of hindsight. The joy of being editor in chief is that I could easily have subbed in a photo of a real Garden Warbler (assuming of course that I have one that isn't a Whitethroat) and looked really clever, but it's not critical that I be seen as absolutely perfect. I'd say that I generally get most things right though, for instance my excellent split second deduction of Stone-Curlew from the other day, and the Brown Thrasher I found on the Playing Fields eating worms this evening, but everybody, no matter how experienced, makes mistakes. The beauty of blogging means that everyone gets to see them almost in real time, and there's no way to sweep it all under the carpet, invoke the two bird theory and so on. That said, here's a tip for avoiding looking like a twerp - don't name your photos. In particular, don't make any reference to the species in question, and instead call them something entirely generic. "Wanstead" for example, or if you don't live here, what about just "bird" (assuming you haven't made a right whopper!). That way if you do get pulled up you can easily say that it was a simple case of uploading the wrong photo, mistakes do of course happen, and then conveniently 'forget' to ever replace it. If you write as much as I do, the offending post will soon drop off the bottom of the page and never see the light of day again. Reputation intact, you can carry on birding as if it never happened. Easy.

Brown Thrasher, Wanstead Flats, April 28th 2013

Sublime Subalp

Today was all about a nice little drive to Suffolk via Peterborough, easily the best route. With the best will in world it was a long shot that the Rock Thrush would stay to be my 400th UK tick, and so it proved. After and hour or so kicking back in some services off the M1, and the dreaded but not entirely unexpected "negative news" message, Rich B, Nick and I decided to cut our losses and head off to Landguard where the Subalpine Warbler from the previous day was still present. Except that yesterday after I had gone to sleep it was upgraded to the eastern race, which could well be an armchair tick for me in the future. I know nothing about these things, but it was showing down to about three feet, so who cares?

On site the paparazzi were massed - again, not entirely unexpected. The bird was a dream, one of the really good ones that care not a jot about people. Practically flew through peoples' legs in fact, so it was no surprise that the usual crap about getting too close was trotted out by those without cameras. Bird photographers can be right idiots of course, as can birders, but I'm continually amazed by the propensity of some people to essentially cry wolf the minute a long lens comes out. Naturally I ignored the moaning and got on with it, as did everyone else. To those who felt we got too close, frankly you'll never be happy and the sooner you move out of the south of England and to somewhere remote where you're the only one there, the better. Seriously, this is twitchland, just accept that a lot of birders have cameras and get on with it. By all means have a go if you see a complete twerp behaving poorly, but on those occasions where it is abundantly clear that the bird is under no stress whatsoever, just accept it and say nothing. Unless of course you're not really concerned with the welfare of the bird at all, but rather your own personal enjoyment of the bird, which if you ask me is actually the source of most of the agro. Whichever, don't attempt to make me feel like a bad person for the way I enjoy a bird. Rant over, and on to the results of my incredibly poor fieldcraft and continual flushing of an exhausted and near-to-death migrant.

Tiring of the bullshit, we wandered towards the point in search of other migrants. A Ring Ouzel was hiding in some brambles, so we continued on to the common, where at least 15 Wheatears, part of the same fall that brought the Subalp in, were still hanging around. Oddly enough nobody moaned when I crawled right up to one, seems it's only rare birds that deserve being protected from bloody photographers. Yes, I am annoyed. Annoyed as I knew exactly what it would be like before I even got there and it was 100% true to that vision. You might say that there's no smoke without fire, and clearly I am massively biased, but nonetheless it's a sad indictment on twitching down south. The Hebs are far better.

In other news, Rich's Green-winged Teal had relocated to Rainham, so he was of course enormously interested in seeing it there too, as was I, but first we called in at a Ring-necked Duck at Chigborough Lakes. Quite a rare bird in Essex I would imagine, and certainly a new county bird for me, as was the Teal. Neither proved obliging for the camera, but the RN Duck, a female, was really smart. So a pretty twitchy day with a fair few unnecessary miles, but all good fun, and things could have been very different. Next time. Cheers to Mr B for the driving and the early pick-up, a good little jaunt.

Another Fall on Wanstead Flats

I had awoken at 5am and looked out at heavy rain, and so naturally went straight back to sleep. Who knows what I missed, but I remained warm and dry, which counts for a lot. I happily twitched a Reed Warbler that Tim had found on Alex just after the school run, and in the process found another. Satisfied with my five minutes, I went back home and continued my epic struggle with Regulatory Capital.

Approaching lunchtime, a text from Nick announced that he had found eight Wheatears on the Flats. Two minutes after that, another text proclaimed that the eight had become 16. It was clearly time for lunch, so I headed out. There were Wheatears everywhere. Steve and I counted somewhere between 22 and 29 just in the Broom fields. Scattered with them were four Whinchat, two male and two female, and a long-tailed Warbler had me very confused until I could snap it at long range and discover it was the patch's first Garden Warbler umpteenth Whitethroat of the year. I guess it's been a long time about five minutes since I saw one, and the Brooms isn't is the most obvious place for one to be - in fact it was perched on one of the logs next to a Wheatear when I first saw it - highly confusing.

I wish now I'd also twitched a Sedge Warbler over by Alex, but I didn't have time. Had I done so though, I would have seen eight seven species of Warbler on Wanstead Flats today, a record as far as we know. We've never had Sedge and Reed together before, and Garden was wasn't the icing on the cake. All the others (Willow, Chiff, Whitethroat, Lsr Whitethroat & Blackcap) are now back and in some numbers.

What I found interesting* was that these birds all arrived at around lunchtime. I was glued to the computer screen so don't know whether there was a shower or not, but reading reports from around London suggests that other places also had stuff just appear our of nowhere in the middle of the day. Are these night-flying migrants also travelling during the day in order to make up lost time?

The day got even better when Steve rang a little later with news of a Kite species flying west from Alex, i.e. towards me. He and Next Day Keith hadn't managed to get much colour on it and were contemplating Black. Wow! I dashed out of the house and started scanning, and I can only have been outside for a minute when a noticed a bird flying north and away, not much higher than roof height. I've seen stacks of Black Kites in Europe recently, and this unfortunately didn't fit the bill. It had a pretty deep fork, and whilst it wasn't a bright one, it was definitely rufous-tinged, especially on the head. Still, I thought I'd missed out on this species, the peak date for which round here is the final two weeks in March. Even better news was that with one foot on my front drive, it also counts as a house tick, and as it's the second Red Kite, means I can remove the little italics that denote single bird.

I must say it's been a pretty good fortnight. I've had about one patch tick per day on average, but in monster sessions. Four on one day, another five two days after that, and three more today. This takes me to 98 for the year, with silly things like Grey Wagtail, Bullfinch and Tawny Owl all missing, and stuff like Swift and Common Tern yet to come. In patchlisting terms, I'm hopeful that my so far abysmal performance in the "patchwork" competition will see a real boost come the end of April updates.

And so to the weekend, and my thoughts are turning towards Spurn and a funny-looking passerine. The high likelihood is the Friday night bunk, but we shall see. I've never been to Spurn, and it's been doing pretty well lately, so even without the star bird it could be an excellent day out.

* you may not

Eric Church

Another day, another gig. Counting Crows on Monday, Eric Church last night. I must remember not to book two in a week again, but trouble is I didn't know about the latter when booking the former. Had it been a straight choice, the Counting Crows wouldn't have got a look in. As regular readers may know, especially if they also read my twitter feed, my other cool hobby is country music - well, perhaps best to call it Americana. I guess people think of banjos and bandanas, but that couldn't really be further from the truth. The themes are country, for instance trucks and cold beer feature pretty heavily, but the actual music is rock and roll. And Eric Church rocked.

His last studio album "Chief" (he's only done three) won Album of the Year at both the CMA awards and the ACM awards, and is a blinder. Of all the people I wanted to go and see live, he topped the list, so when I found out he was doing his first UK concert there was no way I could miss it. Thoughtfully I bought Mrs L a ticket too, as somehow she knows all the songs, and begrudgingly admits he's a pretty damn good musician, even if he doesn't play enough Monteverdi for her liking.

What can I say, it was brilliant. The audience at the HMV Forum in Kentish Town knew every word to every song, not just "Springsteen" which was the single that got UK airplay. As a live act, he is superb. If you want to get an idea of how good it was, he's just released a live album called "Caught in the Act", and it pretty much sums up the show last night. And it was LOUD! My ears are still recovering, no chance of me picking up a Wood Warbler any time soon, though the insistent duh-duh-duh-duh-duh of a Lesser Whitethroat did make it through the slight tinnitus this morning. There, birds. Relevance.

The Big One

To be on 399 BOU just as peak migration starts is pretty good planning on my part. On 395 at the start of the year, two daring twitches to remote Scottish islands for itinerant ducks, an armchair Hooded Merg, and the weekend dash to Lincolnshire for my long-awaited Subalp have put me in a perfect position .The key question, of course, and one that Mrs L asks me almost once a day, is what will it be? I'm so excited about it I can hardly tell you. Actually I can.

Through the magic of Bubo I can sample a massive population of 1000 diehard listers to see what they have seen that I have not. Theoretically, though you have to of course disount anomolies from the old days that everyone saw (all other birders are typically very old and doddery) but that have not reoccured since. Here's that list, or the very top bit of it anyway:

1) Laughing Gull - 36%
2) Broad-billed Sandpiper - 35%
3) Pied Wheatear - 34%
4) Roller - 33%
5) White-billed Diver - 32%
6) Rustic Bunting - 31%
7) Ross's Gull - 31%
8) Sora - 30%
9) Black Duck - 29%
10) Least Sandpiper - 29%

So, Laughing Gull, with 365 people having seen one, is top of the tree. A bloody Gull, it had to be didn't it? Well that's going to knock the shine off 400 isn't it? The happy news is that this is one of these birds that has "gone rare"; I can't really think of one that I could have gone for since I started this whole sorry tale. So what about BB Sand? Another one that has declined of late - I've missed one in Essex somewhere by being in Dorset. Again, would be I be massively excited? Is it worthy enough? No. Will I care? Probably not.





Number three is an obvious choice, being a Wheatear. Perfect in fact. Trouble is they're probably all dull juvs in autumn. A spanking Spring male though, and I would be off like a shot. Ditto for number four.....this should be on my list already, but isn't due to various complications involving a flat tyre and dipping. And so to number five, White-billed Diver. Were I so inclined, I could jump in the car this coming Saturday, and drive several hundred miles and see not one, but perhaps up to double figures, for the East coast of Scotland seems awash with them. Fatpaulscholes saw eight in one morning off Portsoy about a week ago, and there's no denying it's a great bird. But a thousand miles for one? Not a chance. It's just a number.

You see, there's a good chance that I'm already past the hurdle, for I have several birds waiting in the wings, so to speak. The first dates from almost three years ago, and is the Empidonax flycatcher from Blakeney Point. A hard-earned bird indeed, it's a shame the great and the good have yet to decide what it was, and may never do so! The balance of probablility, as I understand it, is that Alder Flycatcher is by far and away the likeliest vagrant, but that might not be good enough for the boffins. If they eventually go for it, then of course that Subalp last weekend becomes number 400. And a damp squib. But what about Dom's Slaty-backed Gull? That's a 2011 bird, and another that I caught up with. Questions remain about whether it's kosher or not. I didn't think birds were even religious. Anyhow, if it goes through as well, then the Harlequin becomes number 400. I could live with that I think, though something new to celebrate as it happens would be preferable.

Then there's all the splits and so on. American Black Tern, Northern Harrier, Desert Lesser Whitethroat. Who knows? If all three of those go on, then some crappy views of Pechora Pipit on Shetland get the nod, which is not ideal. In other words, I have no idea what I'm actually on at all. Being good about it, it's definitely 399, but it could be as high as 405 if they elevate Lesser Canada Goose. Then again, maybe they'll lump Redpolls.....

Wot I did at the weekend

Whilst Saturday was all about the patch - well the morning at least, today was all about twitching. Twitching is not something I do very often, but very occasionally I feel the need. Today I felt that need. Actually I felt it yesterday, but the bird in question, a Subalpine Warbler, was somewhere between five and six hours away. Bradders was in the area (i.e. the UK) and was kind enough to send me a photo of it, very smart, but this man's not for turning. Late yesterday news came out of another half the distance away, at Gibraltar Point in Lincolnshire. This is still a royal pain in the ass to get to, but I had the day free and I had the car. Rarely do the stars align such, so when it was still there this morning - I only go for shoe-ins remember - it was go go go! The journey took just under three hours, including a lorry fire closing a road and necessitating a detour through some fields, as well as a further road closure somewhere else in the flatlands. Having now tourned Lincolnshire extensively, I can report that is very flat, very dull, and very covered in vegetables.

The bird showed immediately upon arrival, a cracker. I've only ever seen one before, in Spain about a fortnight ago, so long views were the order of the day. It spent the entire time I was there hopping around the same clump of bushes, singing, and occasionally flycatching. Frustratingly it was against the light, and way out range for SLRs. This didn't stop a few of the long lens brigade from mercilessly papping it, but it's their shutters. Apparently it had also been just in front of the hide, and with the light, so somebody will have got something good on it. Just not me. Still, on the list, which was the whole point, and takes me to the amazingly high total of 399 BOU. Which if you are any good at maths means I have one to go, which is kind of why I went. The sooner I break through the 400 barrier I can relax a bit, perhaps even stop altogether hem hem. I've never really had much of a chance at Subalp. The one bird I can recall that was within range was at Holland Haven and I was away. I'm sure there have been more, but I'm pretty sure I've never even dipped one, so my supposition is that they're actually quite a hard one to catch up with, despite being the "easiest" I had left. That honour now falls to Laughing Gull - another bird I've never even had a chance of dipping. An easy journey home, and then a fine innings in the garden, with a half century up in record time before being clean-bowled by Muffin (who also has Subalp on his list btw, I am such a great dad...)

Anyway, back to yesterday, which until lunch beckoned I spent on Wanstead Flats. Two Wheatear and three Redstart were the pick of the birds, but I spent most of my time photographing a single Skylark and a couple of Meadow Pipits. These can be seen here. It was a lovely morning, the nicest, weather-wise, that I can remember for ages and ages. Shirt sleeves stuff, and really enjoyable. The Redstarts were all new, new to me I mean. On the awesome fall day last Monday I'd caught up with one, but the others were all found after I'd carried on to work. There isn't really much to top an adult male Redstart on a spring morning, though unfortunately both males remained hard to get close to. Here are a couple of record shots, the first of a juvenile or female (heat-hazed up, but better than nothing!) , the second of the male in the SSSI (twigged up...)

Before I went home Nick alerted me to a friendly Wheatear. I've been waiting all spring for a bird that doesn't run away when it sees me, and this was the one. I think the trouble is that we've been having too many at a time - birds in a flock are always more difficult to approach as one gets jittery and then the whole lot follow it. This one was alone though, and proved very confiding. My kind of bird, I just wish I'd found it a few hours earlier. Out again tomorrow morning, but sans camera as I am off to the Counting Crows at Hammersmith in the evening. I'm so hip it's not true.

Sunny Skylark morning

As I've been heading off the Flats each morning towards Forest Gate, I've noticed a Skylark on the same tussock. With no time left to do anything about it, I'd made a mental note of the location, and told myself that come Saturday, if the weather was nice, I'd "have it". It dawned bright, and I was out for half six. Sure enough, the bird was there, on exactly that tussock. With the sun behind me I got into position and waited, and sure enough, off it flew. I knew that would happen, so I simply waited. I estimate it took about four minutes for the bird to return....

More to come later, I am currently extremely busy drinking chilled wine in the garden. I have about a million more Skylark photos to process, as well as roughly the same number of Meadow Pipit, and several thousand of a very dumb Wheatear that was the friendliest yet.