In your thoughts?

Accepting the remote possibility that birders read this blog, I wonder if this has any of them wondering about where to go next weekend?

That's right. Finland.

PS Also available in Red.



And another thing

In my Dipper excitement, I forgot to mention that I saw a Shrike yesterday. Unbelievable. Not the Shrike, that was perfectly real and about two thousand yards away as Shrikes often are, but unbelievable that I didn't even say a single word about it. Views were somewhat wanting, but it was still a Shrike - a Great Grey Shrike in fact. Lovely, but would have been much lovlier about one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five yards closer. Having said that, it was a feat to even see it at all, as the area, Therfield Heath in Hertfordshire, is immense. Nice to get it on the yearlist I'm not keeping, which has yet to reach 100 so I'm actually telling the truth. I'm on 99 - a Rock Pipit this afternoon - my conscience could hardly be cleaner.

Flakey

As you probably know, I spent the entire evening yesterday deleting Dipper shots, and then woke up today and did it all over again. First stop today was Dartford again where I had another pop at the long-staying Slavonian Grebe in the company of Kev J, Mick S and Richard S. I may not have seen many birds this year, but I've seen some exceptionally well - really they should count for more points. Then we went to Ramsgate to try for a Great Norther Diver known to be frequenting the harbour. It was, but wasn't really what we had in mind. I mean yes, it was a Diver and all that, but what we really wanted to do was pap it to death, and we didn't get that chance and so it's still there, alive and well, and still in the inner harbour. Not sure it was too well, but it was catching food when we left, so perhaps it was just a bit sleepy this morning?

Any guesses as to how much time I spent on the patch this weekend? I'll give you a clue. It's a nice round number and I didn't have any trouble with dogs.

Black-bellied Dipper

Apologies for the catchy title, but I didn't want to leave anything to the imagination. This particular bird has been gnawing away at me for several weeks, but there has always been something else to do. Finally I plucked up the courage to go and made Bradders drive me there. He wanted to see Owls or something. Whatever. But do you know what? I wanted to leave before he did! With several gigabytes in reserve, I decided that I'd had enough. Not being able to feel my feet was the primary reason, but after three hours with this superb little bird, I had actually had my fill. I've just finished the most monumental editing session I can remember in a long time, and after deleting most of what I took, funnily enough I have a few Black-bellied Dipper photos to share. Just a few....as you know I am extremely restrained when it comes to posting photos on my blog. If you are the "in for a penny, in for a pound" type however, you can see lots more here. And I mean lots, more than lots normally means. I have no self control, that's my biggest problem. Happily my shutter is rated for 300,000 clicks....

Moving away from the absurd quantity of photos, and instead talking about the bird, there aren't enough superlatives. If somebody had told me several weeks ago quite how brilliant this bird was, I would have gone immediately rather than leave it this long. To think it could have done a runner without me ever having seen it, gah! It performed to all comers for the entire morning, and likely the entire afternoon as well, mere feet away. I might go back tomorrow, it was that good! I estimate it was never further away than about 40 feet, and sometimes half that. Completely unconcerned about all the attention it was getting, it was fishing constantly, finding a seemingly inexhaustible supply of succulent morsels on the bed of the stream. Every now and again it started singing, which in the manner of many streamside dwellers, carried surprisingly clearly above the sound of the rushing and burbling water. Magic.

An Unexpected Surprise

Stupid title really, as if a surprise were expected it wouldn't be a surprise, but I have some happy news. Now that is a surprise. Having some news I mean, not the happiness bit - I am always sweetness and light. What I mean is that usually I have nothing at all to say, and so write very little. Today however is different. Beavering away at home today I happened to glance out of the upstairs window. At this point I'd like to make it clear to any employers reading, current or future, that I very rarely look out of the window during the working day, but that I sometimes have a need to pace. I think better on my feet, and so on a call with colleagues in New York this afternoon, pontificating, I felt the need to walk around whilst delivering my thoughts on Life, the Universe and Securities Lending to an appreciative audience. Anyhow, on my second circuit round the bedroom I noticed two Crows hassling something as it flew low over the rooftops of the houses opposite. Short-eared Owl! Gah! I retained my composure completely, although I may have stopped droning momentarily, and watched it disappear out of sight down the road. Then my brain kicked in, and I ran to the study where I knew I had a camera. I didn't miss a beat, although the quantity of "Errrs" and "Ummms" may have briefly increased. Flipping the phone neatly to speaker, I retrieved the camera from the bag, and in one fluid motion pulled off the lens cap, switched it on and dialled in the exposure compensation I knew I would need - all the while still talking about IT Solutions and Critical Dependencies and running into the back bedroom. Who says men cannot multi-task? Scanning from the back window, the Owl had swooped over the street with it's attendant pursuers and was gaining height. At this point those listening in NY may have heard what sounded suspiciously like a camera shutter firing at high speed. Sorry about that, but this was a garden tick and thus is far more important than most other things in the entirety of creation. And anyway, we were about done, weren't we?

As it happens we were basically done at this point, and so once I'd hung up I quickly checked the back of the camera to make sure it wasn't a Long-eared Owl. It wasn't, but without bins I couldn't tell - the balance of probability was always the commoner bird. After running hell for leather out of the house and across the Flats last year to get on a bird that Nick had called me about, it was good to get a decent view, as well as getting the species on the all important house list. Then I called the Prof in Walthamstow as it could conceivably have been heading towards him - it didn't get there unfortunately (but it's OK as he already has it on his house list), but if anyone further up the valley gets a SEO with a really ragged tail, that's my bird. Unfortunately the only camera to hand was full frame and only had a 200mm lens on it, and coupled with shooting through a grimy window the shots fall very firmly into the record category bucket, but that's fine. You take what you can get when it comes to house ticks, and I am entirely delighted to have got anything that shows what it was. I've not had a house tick since April 2012, so it's been a long time coming.

The fact that this was the first time I had looked out of the window all day, indeed for several days, and that this should coincide with the exact moment that an extremely rare bird in Wanstead (only my second ever) should fly past has not escaped my attention. It is highly highly jammy. I can only assume that the recent new acolyte is a Birding God, and whilst reading over the last few days' posts decided that I was in need of perking up. All I can say is thanks, I have. It was bloody brilliant!

Things

I have just been told off by Mrs L. Uh-oh. She has read my blog. The gist of the rebuke was that I am am grumpy and unpleasant. She knew this 12 years ago of course, yet somehow went ahead with it. Nonetheless, I should be nicer and quit moaning. But look, it has gained me an acolyte, as I'm back up to 143! Welcome, whoever you are, to this lovely post about Fluffy Bunny Rabbits.

Not really. I am terminally grumpy. Ranting does get a little tiring though, so here is some happy news: I have sold a photograph. No, really. I can scarcely believe it myself. A graphic designer got in contact via my other website, expressing an interest in using an image on a display panel somewhere in Ireland. I nearly fell of my chair. Anyway, I acted entirely professionally, made up a price, sent an invoice, and very shortly afterwards a cheque arrived in the post. I might get it framed, as it might be the only one ever! Pay the mortgage it will not, but I am dead chuffed. All those hours in a darkened room slaving over post-processing, creating the website, watermarking the images.....it's not even that good a photo, but it meets this guy's needs so there you go. As Art Morris would say, it passed the pen test. I am under no illusions as to where my future lies though.
Yup, Canary Wharf. If famille L are to remain warm and fed, C-dub is where I must go. I was there today. And most of this week. It is one of the great annoyances of life that one either always suffers from a lack of time, or a lack of money. Some people unfortunately suffer from both, but not many people are unafflicted by either and can do what they will. I wish I was one of them, but I am not. I often wonder what I could do that I enjoy and that would not involve CW, yet would allow us to get by, and have always concluded that it is easiest to continue what I am doing. Maybe I'm not brave enough?

PS If anyone wants training in ranting, very reasonable rates, do drop me a line.

Gah!

Awful news. I have just noticed that I'm losing acolytes at a rate of knots! The other day it was a massive 144, a couple of days ago it dropped to 143. Ah well, people do die I thought to myself. Today it's down to 142...another four and a bit months and it'll be none at all!

It's probably because I shouted at that old woman on the Flats at the weekend. Hours of pent up anger all came out in one go when some people flushed some Fieldfares I was stalking. Yes, you understand me correctly, it wasn't even her, and yet she copped the flak, including the use of those filthy words "bloody", "people" and "dogs". To her credit, and beleing her old age, rather than gasp with a prim "well I never" and run away, she said I should move house if I didn't like it. Touché. But how could she have possibly known I lived here? I might just have been visiting.....

It has been bad lately. The number of witless acts I've been on the receiving end of, both at home and further afield, has really been getting to me. Testy at the best of times, downright unfriendly at other times, I've become prone to snapping quite quickly. It will get me stabbed one of these days. Though not, I hope, by old ladies. Actually, maybe I hope that it is by old ladies, as I might just stand a chance. It's just that there are too many people using too small a space, and any aims and ambitions I might have are completely incompatible with urban London. Birders are a grumpy lot for the most part, it is no surprise that many leave London for less well-populated climes. The answer is probably a combination of a stagnant patchlist on the one hand, combined with a certain amount of world-weariness and loathing of their fellow man on the other. Factor in rising house prices and it's no wonder many of them jack it in and move away. A long way away. Lately I've been feeling the same, though I doubt this has come across in my blog. Not that I get much opportunity to get out on the patch of course, but when I do the level of immediate (and idiotic) disturbance I face is perhaps doubly hard to bear. Half the time I don't even feel like going out as I know that somebody is going to ruin it for me within a hundred yards. And that's a fact. It's not a maybe, or a perhaps, it's a cast-iron certainty. Be they dog-walkers, people out for a walk, Polish drunks, model airplane fliers or whoever, none of them understand what birding is about, and less than none of them understand bird photography, which is of course my major gripe. 

Perhaps I am being unrealistic, but would you walk in front of a camera that someone was clearly aiming at something? Would you continue towards the person clearly looking at something through binoculars directly between you and them? Is that a level of understanding too far? Maybe it would depend on your mood? I still remember with great affection the man who slowly and deliberately threw a stick into the water for his dog right into the middle of some close-in Tufties I was photographing on the Heronry Pond, and when I looked round gave me a little wave. Although this was several years ago, I was pleased to find his photo in my extensive files, and so for the first time can share it with you. I had called the image "Tosser" for reasons now lost in the mists of time. Perhaps it will come back to me.

Clearly this was blatant git-ism; most of the time it is of course completely innocent and people just do not realise. It would be nice if they sometimes showed a little grace when the error of their ways was pointed out to them, but hey, this is London, and as I've proved recently, grace goes both ways.

All East London Blogs are the same

At the risk of boring you all, I went to Dartford this morning to see the extremely approachable Slav Grebe. So did everybody else - just look at my links! When I got there Kev J, Mick S and Richard S were already there, Shaun and Monkey had already been, and Redsy, Rich B and Hawky turned up after I did! Bloody photographers..... I've been wanting to see this bird all week, and when I found out that it was on the small lake again yesterday evening, it was too late! I'd have liked several hours with it, but today was not a birding day, and it was either a smash-and-grab raid with the kids this morning or nothing at all. It was a tick for all three of them though, so fairly easily justified. Typically, and I know I'm a moaning old whingebag, there was too much light - black and white birds in full sunlight are a right old pain - always work in manual, as AV will lead you a merry dance in these conditions. I took a couple of test shots as soon as I got there which were nearly on the money (and almost recoverable) - shame then that this was the highlight of the action - the Grebe caught an enormous fish - it might have been a species of fin whale. It then went and had a quiet vomit and some Rennies under the trees at the back before doing another quick circuit of the pond. I caught it on the way back round, but then it was time to go. I took exactly 86 shots, four of which are below, and was there for a total of about 45 minutes, most of which was spent nattering about lenses and an upcoming trip to Morocco. Mick, who smashed it during the week in ideal light, didn't even turn his camera on, admirable restraint. I'm relatively pleased with what I got - as I said when I turned up, all I had to do was take a crappy hand-held shot with the bird right on the other side of the pond and I'd have my best ever photo of Slavonian Grebe right there.

 

The rest of the day was spent as a cleaner and taxi driver, ferrying children to and fro from parties, and generally being a good father. I managed another quick hour on the Flats during which I saw diddly squat - my patch list is dead in the water and it's only January. The bad thing about this is that I don't actually care. I caned through God knows how many frames this weekend and had an absolute ball doing it. Heaps more to come once I've finished going through them, however another week of work beckons, and I can tell you now that it's going to be a bad one!