Slow spring

Contrary to what finds it's way on here, I have been birding a lot locally this spring. It is just that I feel that blog post after interminable blog post about hearing only Chiffchaffs doesn't make for great reading, so I have largely ignored my fruitless forays out onto the patch. It has been sort of enjoyable getting out there early before all the people and their pets, but equally it could have been a lot more enjoyable if I had been bumping into Ring Ouzels, hearing Willow Warblers, raising my bins and turning distant dots into hirundines and so on. No, I am afraid it has been dull as the proverbial ditch-water. Perfect blogging material now I think about it..... 

I did add a few singing Blackcaps last Saturday, but after the early excitement of London's first Wheatear of 2017 raised expectations to fever pitch, the patch has done nothing but underperform. Our neighbours in Walthamstow meanwhile have been clearing up, loads of decent birds to remind us how little we're seeing, and to add to the daily depression of another two hours in bed sacrificed for no good reason I have to walk past the scars of the Corporation of London's latest land clearance scheme. I have a post on this lined up actually, but every time I am ready to publish it I discover another area that has been razed to the ground and need to record that too.

Adding to the feelings of being hard done by are the daily missives from the East London Retired Birders Club. This is a Whatsapp group, and I am seemingly the only employed member of it. You can imagine where this leads. A constant feed of people seeing tons of migrants across the local reservoirs and the river. A network of dedicated observers with nary a care in the world, out on their patches from dawn to dusk, revelling in migrant after migrant. Work? Overrated apparently. The first Sedge Warbler, 30+ Sand Martins, some lingering Mergs, oh, some Black-winged Stilts. Nice. From my desk in Canary Wharf I grimace and carry on. That I was unemployed for two years and doing exactly the same to them is long forgotten of course, it is the here and the now that matters.   

All it will take however is one Red-rumped Swallow or Alpine Swift to make it all alright again. I live in hope, eyes to the sky. We may not have had many migrants this year, but imagine if one of those European overshoots made landfall here. It is what keeps local patchwatchers on their toes - we had a R-RS once, in the 1970s, and there was an Alpine Swift over nearby Leyton Flats only a few years ago, easily under a mile away, so it can and does happen. Just not very often sadly. 

You can see this year's somewhat pitiful list here.

Like a busy bee

Did you read that 20 million Britons are physically inactive? Not me! Or am I? I like to think of myself as active - but am I just busy? These are the words of a lady mentioned in the article who had a heart attack aged 44. Much older than me obviously, but food for thought. As regular readers will know, I have a million interests and am forever charging around the place in the pursuit of them. It might be birding, it might be travelling, it might be horticulture, it might be a bit of all three combined - never a dull moment! Along with regular family life I certainly feel very busy, but am I active? 

I have no time at all for any exercise, in both senses. I actually don't have any time, and I also just don't like the thought of it. Going to a gym? Ugh. I thought I might cycle to work, and for a while I did, but that didn't last due to various medical complaints that I am still using as excuses. The ankle I think is probably still just about valid. Anyway, whilst various bits of me do their best to malfunction, I instead decided I would do a lot of walking, but I am not sure how good this is for me. I have lost no weight at all. The only thing that seems to happen is that if I walk more than about eight my miles my other foot starts hurting. Then again, are all of these miles allowing me to stay flat, and I would have ballooned had I not? An interesting experiment perhaps awaits!

Typically I am lousy at staying true to anything which requires grit. Doing five miles a day on my own two feet however has thus far been remarkably easy, which probably explains why I am still doing it. Three months in I have just passed the 500 mile mark, and whilst not every week has seen me meet the 35 mile goal, there have been many that beat it by so much that the daily average is currently sitting at about 5.4. I am amazed by this, not least because my daily commute to work is only one and a half miles. Somehow nearly four more come from doing other things.

Birding is the obvious one. A typical morning commute is (during fine weather in spring!) extended by at least a mile and a half, possibly two, as I take various haphazard routes across Wanstead Flats rather then walk straight to the tube. By the time I get to work I am probably already on about three miles, and wandering around the office during the day seems to add another half mile or so and so by the time I get home I am basically done. My evening chores around the house seem to chew up the rest.

Mystery bird...

Weekends are different. The morning assault on Wanstead Flats is usually around five miles. A couple of circuits in the vain hope I might see something good. And this spring it really has been in vain... Once back home however is where the real work begins. This Saturday just gone I arrived back home on about six miles. I then did a further four at home! Four miles just walking around  the house and garden! To be clear, despite its name, Chateau L is in fact a regular suburban house. It is sadly not a vast estate with sweeping vistas down to the boating lake. Somehow all the things I had to do around the house added up to quite a hefty walk. I mowed the lawn, I repotted and watered the plants, I filled up the bird-feeders, I cleaned the greenhouse roof with a pressure washer, I hung up washing, I swept, I vacuumed, I picked things up off the floor, I walked into rooms and forgot why, I ticked off my to-do list in a frenzy of activity. Chores means miles, and this is what I meant by being busy, and I wonder if this is what the lady on the BBC meant too?

Sunday was even more hectic. I was at my parents house helping out - a huge list of jobs had been prepared for my arrival, and so from 9am to about 5.30pm I ran around the place doing them all. There were a couple of minor excursions into the village, but by the end of the day I was on five miles again, from seemingly doing nothing. I was on my feet almost all day but there was no physical exertion whatsoever. This is probably the missing factor. I need to puff and blow, and no amount of walking is ever going to achieve that. No, I need more, the question is what though.

Haleakala Sunset

A breathtaking experience that no photos can possibly do justice I'm afraid, but anyone going to Maui should make time for either this or for sunrise. Sunrise takes more planning, and you have to book ahead, hence why I chose the sunset. Are they the same? Undoubtedly not, but then no two sunsets are the same either. Just go, you will enjoy either one, and that's guaranteed.

To get there take the 377 then the 378. The summit is at 10,000 feet, you drive up a wonderful series of switchbacks to get there, passing through the clouds in the way. Where the trees thin out and the slopes become grassy you will probably hear Skylarks singing - a well out of place import. I also saw a Pheasant! It's probably about a 45 minute drive from where the road up starts, and once above the cloud layer the views are simply incredible. Given the height, there is probably no such thing as not a clear day so you will almost certainly get a decent view. Make sure you plan ahead for sunset as it is unrestricted and it gets busy - you will probably be driving up in a convoy so leave time as parking is tight and it becomes a bit fraught with people abandoning vehicles as the sun starts to disappear. Bring warm clothes, you will need them. And bring your soul.

When not birding in Hawaii

So what else of Maui then? Beyond birding Hosmer Grove for the endemics I didn’t actually do much birding, as I had seen all the waterbird endemics on my last visit. I stopped in at Kanaha Ponds briefly, which are right next to the airport, and this had quite a few Hawaiian Stilt, as well as a few Night Heron, a single Turnstone, Sanderling and Pacific Golden Plover. I picked up a few other birds along the way, mostly from the car or where I stopped the car to go snorkelling. And in fact the car and snorkelling were the major reasons for the lack of birding. The car was a Ford Mustang Convertible, and thus highly enjoyable, and the beaches of Maui offer possibly some of the best easy snorkelling on the planet. Below the water is simply fabulous, often right off the beaches, and the first thing I did after collecting the car was to go and buy a mask, flippers and tube. Things have moved on hugely since I last bought any snorkelling kit, and I am now the proud owner of a highly modern set of gear to replace my knackered old stuff bought in California circa 1986. I didn’t even bother digging this stuff out for the trip, and as soon as find it it’s going. I’m not sure silicone had even been invented then, my mask was rubber and I expect it has long since perished.

I stopped the car and jumped in the water multiple times, wherever it looked good and sheltered. On the first day this was most of west Maui, but on the second day there was some offshore swell that made a number of attempts futile. The best spot was up towards Lahaina, a beautiful beach where I could park the car under the trees and was mere steps from the water with a coral reef running parallel to the beach for several hundred meters. I spent a long time here and saw loads of wonderful fish. Is it OK to have a favourite fish? If so it is the Hunuhununukunukuapua'a, which would be awesome even if it were just plain and boring to look at. Obviously it isn’t .....no underwater camera so you will need to look it up….. The colours and variety were sensational, and in truth far outweighed the birds in terms of beauty and being entranced. As such I probably spent more time swimming than I did birding, which is wrong given mhy self-professed interest but there you have it. The last thing I need is another hobby, but I’ve actually got a trip coming up with my youngest daughter that is 100% about snorkelling as she is dead keen on anything to do with water and always has been – there must have been some kind of mix up as she is part fish. This was part of the reason for taking the plunge (haha) and buying new stuff. What I need to work out in advance of then is how I can get my camera, or a camera, underwater. That could be a whole new challenge for me – I’ve often marvelled at the underwater section of the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibitions, or the footage from things like the Blue Planet, but I have never even considered how they do it as I simply had no frame of reference. Now I bet you can just take your phone with you…. Some research needed perhaps.

Zebra Dove

Nutmeg Mannikin

There was not really a huge amount of time in which to explore, but a massive highlight was watching the sun set from the summit of Haleakala - however this will be the subject of a separate post as it needs to be ridiculously photo-heavy to even stand a chance of explaining how monumental it is. For now, let's just say that despite the stupidity and all the time spent getting there, I really am a big fan of Hawaii. For starters they were the first State to challenge Trump's revised travel ban, which at the time of writing is still not going anywhere. There are other endemics to try and eke out, and of course there are Albatrosses....

Slow Sundays

Sunday continued in much the same vein as Saturday, but without the birding. Somehow the clocks changing caused me to sleep in until gone 9 (the new 9), which was close enough to the start of the football on Wanstead Flats that I elected not to bother. From my foray on Saturday morning I felt I probably wouldn’t be missing much, it still feels like migration hasn’t really started, at least locally. Instead I continued to potter up and down between the house and the greenhouse, tidying, sprucing, rearranging. I do like this time of year, there is interest on every front, and I can chop and choose where I spend my time knowing that no matter where I land I will enjoy myself.

Once again it was a beautiful day – not hot, but warm and pleasant enough to feel spring-like. Chateau L became a hive of industry, windows were thrown open to get some fresh air in, the washing machine went into overdrive, and for the first time in many months clothes got to dry outside. Surfaces were wiped down, dusting occurred, the atmosphere was highly positive. More importantly, barbeque coal and rosé were sourced, and once the grill had been cleaned of all the winter gank, the pleasant smell of charcoal started to drift into all the windows we had opened, and with a little bit of shift in the wind direction, blanketed the washing drying on the line in a nice grey cloud.

Oops. You can’t teach this kind of genius, you either have it or you don’t. Oh well, you can’t beat a bit of outdoor cooking for promoting the joys of spring, and thus the day passed very pleasantly indeed. Rosé was replaced by Gin & Tonic at some point during the afternoon, and we simply enjoyed relaxing at home. I am glad I can do frenetic and lethargic and be equally enamoured by both. A small amount of sky watching occurred, but unlike Saturday when the first Buzzard was right on time, I saw nothing all day.

I made it back on patch this morning and barely saw a bird, confirming my suspicion that it is still a tad early. A bit depressing actually, what with all the litter from Sunday’s football, all the razed areas of habitat, and then to top it off a nice bit of fly-tipping.  However just as I was on the point of giving up on a bad job and leaving the Flats to catch the train, three ducks heading over my head west caused me to look up. Shelduck! Annual, and always at this time of year, but almost always a flyover going east early morning. Excellent to get these therefore, but also confirmation that working a local patch can sometimes feel like you are stuck on repeat, merely going through the motions.

Maui List

Here’s a list of the native birds I saw on Maui, ie the ones that got there of their own accord rather than being brought there by people. Writing this list down for the blog is possibly one of the most enjoyable things I’ve done recently!

‘Auku’u

Koloa Mapu

Koloa Moha

‘Alae ke’oke’o

‘Alae ‘Ula

Ae’o

Kolea

‘Akekeke

Hunakai

‘Ulili

‘Amakihi

Maui ‘Alauahio

‘Apapane

‘I’iwi

Moa

My perfect day

Today was a pretty perfect day. Having been away last weekend I was very much looking forward to a day of doing very little. Of pottering. I am a great potterer when the mood takes me, the hours just fly by. I started early, before 6am, by birding the patch. In all honesty it was pretty dire, nary a single migrant and very quiet indeed. The boys and I naturally started talking about drinking almost immediately - I worry about the liver function of many of our local patch workers. I also sense that a gin & tonic evening is probably in the offing, as we all seem very keen indeed on this most wonderful of drinks. The avian highlight was a particularly lovely male Stonechat in the Ditch of Despair - despite my camouflage hat I couldn't get anywhere near it so the below is about as good as it gets.

Returning home having drawn the proverbial blank I enjoyed coffee and some semi-stale crusts of toast . This is the problem with children, they eat you out of house and home yet don't bother telling you when something has run out (ie, been scoffed). They simply move on to something else. Oh, no bread? Right, cereal then. No cereal? Fruit. They just expect replacement whatever it is, in this instance bread, to magically reappear the next time they look. I open the bread bin about once a week and it is always sodding empty. So it was today, barring the ends of a couple of loaves. The trick is to splash a bit of water on them and then sling them in the toaster.

With this meagre sustenance I set to work. I was delighted to discover that my lawn mower still worked after all this time, and half an hour later the garden looked sensational. It does not matter how crappy your garden is, once you mow the grass ('lawn' would be pushing it at Chateau L) it makes everything look fabulous for some reason. I pruned a few things and did a few edges, you might almost think a gardener had come. Did Mrs L notice when she returned home? No.

Next up was repopulating the terrace with ferocious Mexican plants that have spent the winter under glass. I have a sack barrow specifically for this annual task and so made short work of getting all of them out and back up the garden. The local cats are once again in mortal danger, just the way I like it. And then with so much room freed up in the greenhouse I was able to take stuff from indoors and put it down there, which means we can now move a little more easily in the house. Some watering, some pruning, a but of weeding, and after all this I was amazed to see that my pedometer suggested that I had covered three miles simply walking up and down the garden - talk about industrious!

So now came the time to relax. It was precisely raptor o'clock. I plonked one of the garden chairs on the freshly mown grass and lowered myself gently down, binoculars at the ready. Five minutes later the first Buzzard cruised over, and an hour later the second. The intervening period passed very quickly, it is possible that I dozed off.

And then it was time for gin.