Go west young man

Last Friday I worked from home. When I was done, I stood up from my desk, walked downstairs, got in the car, and drove to Cardiff. This was not my ideal evening all things considered, but Mrs L had long ago organised a family get-together with her sisters and their families, none of whom live in Cardiff but they all like it. Of course this was not an entirely random destination...

Yes, number one child now lives in Cardiff. For you old-timers out there the little kid that I dragged here there and everywhere birdwatching from around 2009 onwards is now an enormous twenty year old at Cardiff university. How time flies. I mean he is not even a teenager any more! Anyway, we don't see him very often, but we still hear from him all the time. Sorry my mistake, we don't hear from him either, so travelling to Cardiff is a good way to establish contact. It's not a massive undertaking, but neither is it just popping round the corner. So off we went. 

To cut a long story short he was in Bristol...

But he did show up the following morning (having had precisely zero hours of sleep) and spent the day with us and the extended family which was very nice. Despite 36 hours and counting of being awake, once he had a couple of beers down him in a Cardiff pub he perked up a lot, and with an important Rugby match on found the kind of second wind that once upon a time I could summon on request but that these days rather eludes me. 

A partisan crowd. We had to be very quiet at the end...

For the younger children - not that much younger is has to be said - Cardiff on Friday and Saturday nights was rather an eye-opener. If anything Saturday was more exuberant than Friday with people able to kick things off that much earlier. Hen parties seemed to get going shortly after midday, and by mid afternoon they had already reached the drunken barefoot lurching around streets stage, heels in hand. The vomiting presumably started shortly thereafter. We left the city centre and went to Cardiff Bay for the afternoon, but when we returned in the evening things were in full swing. And I mean full swing. I am a very boring person as everyone knows and I barely go out in the evenings. When I do it is to genteel middle-aged things like wine tastings, restaurants and recitals, and so the scenes that greeted us were as much of an eye-opener for me as for the kids. KFC has bouncers on the door, this is the level I am talking about. On a short walk down the main drag that earlier that day had been populated by familes out shopping I narrowly avoided a hug from a drunk, had to sidestep more than a few puddles (liquid and solid) and got flashed by a young lady who had almost no clothes on yet still seemed insistent that everyone see parts of her that were marginally covered. This was with my youngest daughter on one arm and wearing my woolly hat by the way, I was not exactly cart-wheeling down the street pint in hand.

Cardiff has a bit of thing for Arcades.

Cardiff street life c2000 years ago. More or less unchanged judging by the people crawling along the floor.

The next morning this had all been swept away and the main pedestrian area was civilised once more. The street with a thousand kebab shops on had seen heavier use, and despite some remedial action was still rather sludgy... yuck. Despite pubs already being open again we opted for a museum and then Cardiff Castle for lunch, after which we bade goodbye to one and all and headed back for the long drive east.

So that was the weekend, and whilst there were no birds I thought I had better bash something out lest people think I was phasing again. I did add Coot to my Wales list from the pub window, but that was about it - I didn't even have my bins with me which is essentially the story of February. A shame really as I rather had the bit between my teeth from a blogging perspective in January. Anyway, it will be March soon and everyone knows what arrives in March. Don't they?

Do I have to say it's name?

No.

Do I have to say it's name?

No.

Say what?

....

A quiet weekend

The weekend has been about recovery here in Chateau L. For me it has been for catching my breath after a torrid couple of weeks at work - there is one left and it should then calm down a little bit. I'm exhausted, my industry is a young man's game. I have the knowledge, lots of it, gleaned over many years, but the energy.....not as much as I once had. The hunger, the ambition? Limited to doing a good job and making it to Friday. I was hoping that at this stage in my career things might be getting easier and that the 11pms might be a distant memory. Alas no, each year is harder than the one before. Gruelling is what it is. I am resilient but it stacks up. The people are what make it tolerable - champions all of them, no doubt more than a few of the older ones would echo my thoughts. 

Mrs L is a teacher and last week Ofsted arrived. It's probably as good a time as there has ever been to be inspected by Ofsted but that doesn't make it any easier. They arrive with almost no notice and can delve into anything they want. Which they did. The ramifications of a bad result are enormous, imagine the pressure, the stress that the staff are under. Four days, four categories, five possible words. There wasn't much sleep last week. She is shattered, I've never seen her so tired, but she's through it and its over. 

Unsurprisingly come Saturday morning neither of us were really up to much. The Sociable Plover in Cornwall? Not a chance. I didn't even make it out onto the patch until about 11am, that's how slow I was. When I did get out it was pretty decent though - a vaguely regular Caspian Gull on Alexandra Lake waited long enough after being found for me to pedal down there, and then a little later I found Mistle Thrush and Cetti's Warbler in the Old Sewage Works. These three take me to 69 for the year, a pretty solid start all things considered, certainly higher than the last two years. I do enjoy birding around here, even during the quiet season. There are still ten or so realistic targets before Spring gets underway so I've played it quite well, rather than the whole of February to get through with nothing to see there is still interest out there.

Caspo in 100 pixels.

This short trip nearly sent me back to bed, but I plucked up the courage to instead have an Espresso Martini which brought me back to life. The rest of the afternoon was then spent caressing a glass of Chambolle-Musigny - well, several glasses actually - and then we spent some quality time cooking together. I say cooking, I am very much a sous chef when Mrs L is around. A junior sous chef. A junior trainee sous chef. My role is to fetch things for her and clear up after her. Sometimes I put things away before she has used them which can result in being fired but which is always fun. It would be easier without me apparently. Yes, but then I would be lonely, and anyway, I like thinking I am being helpful. 

Today is more of the same precocious inactivity. I could not be bothered to go birding, but I did make it down to the greenhouse for almost the first time this year. I have about as much fungus as plants it seems, but that will dry up and clean off once the sun starts to appear for longer. For now it was about a brief watering to keep stuff going, wake things up a bit. The proper work will start in March I expect. I always look forward to it whilst partly dreading it. What will I find, what has died? This year I cracked and put the heating on down there during the cold snap, so actually things looks pretty good. I learned that lesson the hard way last year, not this time. It was nice to see plants I've not looked at for weeks, reminding myself of my plans for them this summer, what needs repotting and so on. Roll on Spring, for all sorts of reasons.

Not close and no cigar

Having seen a lovely photo of what seemed to be a very friendly Scaup from a gravel pit in Kent, Mick and I made plans to go and get better ones. Hah! Fat chance. We did find the bird, a Kent tick no less, but whoever the photographer was had been extremely lucky with the bird in close. We had no such luck on what we hadn't realised was a pretty big lake, with the bird staying steadfastly right in the middle! I won't bother posting my distant effort here, even with the 800mm and converter it was a dot. Most birds remained distant, a boat would have been excellent.....but I got a couple of photos of a slightly closer Great Crested Grebe that are blog-worthy. Still - and something I am beginning to appreciate more and more - it was nice to be somewhere new and different. Once upon a time I was somewhere different every other weekend and I remember it being fun. These days I am usually at home, yawn - I blame the pandemic for changing my pattern of behaviour semi-permanently. Need to break out of it, get back to day trips, get the camera out more often. I used my tripod today, a rare event, but I have to say that it makes it a lot easier. It's just bulky, heavy, annoying, painful.....

After dropping Mick back I crossed over the river and went to Rainham - my starting game plan for this weekend. It was great to be back, I should go more. I spent a bit of time on the sea wall and a bit at the top of the ramp. Pick of the birds were 50+ Avocet in Aveley Bay, and a pair of Raven on Purfleet. I left about 20 minutes before a Goshawk flew over.... Can't complain, it wasn't that long ago that Raven was a Rainham tick, number 198 to be exact. I'm on 201 now, a decent total for a single site, even it is the best site in London. Wanstead isn't that far behind in raw numbers, but it'll never compete with river.

Southend Pier

Let me start by saying I dipped. Let me also say that I knew I would dip and that I didn't care and I went anyway. For those of you wondering what on earth I am talking about there was a White-billed Diver off Southend Pier on Thursday. A stonking rarity anywhere, particularly in Essex. There was a vague report Friday afternoon, but it sounded duff and deep down I knew it wouldn't be there on Saturday, but as I wrote about earlier I wanted out of Wanstead and this was the perfect excuse. Somewhere different, somewhere with different birds, and not too far away.

Being feeble I went out on the patch first, adding Great Black-backed Gull, Teal, Siskin, and a bacon roll. I leave it up to you to decide which was the most appreciated. It was cold and clear, very nice in fact, and I didn't begrudge it at all. I love living here, with Wanstead Flats on my doorstep. It might not be the countryside but I couldn't contemplate living anywhere without a green space nearby. Nonetheless by around 11am I was all done and in need of something different.

Astonishingly I'd not been to Southend Pier since 2012. Wow. That is a measure of how quickly time flies. I used to bird a lot in Essex and it was good to be back. The train has been significantly modernised, with the old train carved up and made into shelters alongside the tracks and at the far end. There was a small crowd assembled, none of them seeing large banana-billed birds, and amongst them were Bradders and Mick. I spent most of my time on the upper level above the Lifeboat scanning east, picking up a few Great Northern and Red-throated Divers, a couple of Razorbill and a Shag, but of the prize bird there was no sign unfortunately. 

No matter, I had my camera and when I got bored I descended to the lower level and took a few photos. Arriving later than the others I had missed the glassy conditions and there was now a bit of a breeze getting up making the water choppy, but I had fun papping a few Med Gulls and so on. A nice afternoon actually, better than sitting around at home doing nothing, and I am pleased I went. Here are a few more photos, including the one Turnstone that had only one leg. After all the trouble I went to getting down low I could scarcely believe I'd homed in on the lame one, but there you have it.

Thank you Isha, Thank you Jo-ce-lyn

Channelling my inner Alanis Morissette a bit with the title there, but I am sure you get the picture. Yes, winter storms, of which there seem to be an ever increasing number each year. Surely it can't be the climate breaking down can it?

When I see one of these coming and look at the forecast I always have a sense of dread. Our house and garden contain a lot of glass - greenhouses, conservatories, french doors...all protecting precious tropical plants. Oh and family members of course, which are my chief concern naturally. As the winds gradually build to a ferocious howl, to the point where I can actually see the glass bending, my heart is in my mouth. Will I get away with it, or will there be damage.

As I surveyed the damage after Isha I breathed a sigh of relief that I appeared to have had no significant issues once again. Yes lots of plants had been blown over, including ones I can barely lift, but such is their height and exposed surface area that the gusts from these storms easily topple them. A greenhouse vent had come loose and smashed itself to bits, but the panel was deliberately polycarbonate so I can simply find some replacement nuts and bolts and put it back together. Other than this there was nothing that would cost money to fix, for which I am thankful. It could have been a lot worse. One day it probably will be.

I didn't have time to fix the vent between Isha and Jocelyn, they came one after the other without pause, so I bodged it and hoped for the best. I was worried that the wind exploit the obvious weakness, dispense with the so-so vent very rapidly, and then enter the greenhouse and explode it from the inside. But that didn't happen. Of course Jocelyn did re-topple all the same plants that I had picked up after Isha, and as I stuggled to get them upright again before work after it (she?) had passed I wondered whether I shouldn't have just left them on the ground where they were. Would have been easier.

Sleeping is the biggest problem. Up in the loft where we sleep the windows face the Atlantic. Well, not really, but the room faces south-west so we align directly into the path of these Atlantic storms and are buffeted mercilessly each time, pounding wind and lashing rain. It is very noisy, and it gets a lot colder too. These storms seem to occur overnight more often than not, although there is no logical reason why this is the case. I'd prefer to be at work in Canary Wharf in a nice sturdy office when they go through, but it always seems to be when I am trying to get some rest.

No, not much birding, why do you ask?

An enthusiasm for numbers

In a post towards the end of last I spent a lot of time obsessing about numbers. Amongst other things about how I had not quite managed to see 1000 birds during the year, how I might have another go this year, that kind of thing. Of interest to noone but myself really. Ideal blog material...

Obviously it is a lot easier at the beginning of the year, but I just noticed that I had already cleared 300 in 2024. 220+ species in The Gambia and Senegal in the first week of the year has clearly made quite the difference, but more importantly it has generated enthusiasm that is not normally present in January. Not only about the prospect of foreign travel and a nearly blank year in the calendar to fill up, but also about what a day on the coast might bring at this time of year, or a simple visit to Walthamstow. What might a trip to Fife add? All of a sudden I find myself thinking about salt marshes and mudflats, rather than where the local Mistle Thrush is hiding (a great deal of energy, both physical and mental, expended on this so far pointless question!).

I love planning, and whilst I don't have the mental capacity to work out exactly what the remaining 698 species are and where I will see them, I can at least start to consider some ballpark numbers. A trip to America in April for instance, how many might that add? What if I were to go to Spain, that kind of thing. 

I think I'll start closer to home though. If these relentless storms would just pack it in I might be tempted by Kent. If not, a quick spin around Rainham perhaps, I've not been there for ages and winter is a good time there, I could add all sorts of things, and it would make a pleasant change from traipsing around Wanstead which I have been doing a lot of lately. Yes, I think I'll do that.

In closing, here's a photo from Argentina of a knacked old Ford truck from the barrio of La Boca in Buenos Aires. No particular reason other than I don't have a photo of a Mistle Thrush.

Incoming!

A final foray out this morning before storm Isha pummels us with wind and rain. On balance I think I prefer the crisp cold, although if I worked outside like Gav I would no doubt feel differently. Mind you, working outside in a raging storm probably isn't much fun either, and I imagine that more than a few people in outdoor professions will be finding reasons to have a short hiatus from work over the next day or so. I'm lucky, or unlucky depending on your point of view; my job continues no matter what. Pretty sure I've not missed a single day due to weather ever. Once, when high winds cancelled a return flight from Spain back to London, I simply worked from my company's office in Madrid. There are literally no get out clauses!

Anyway I may have missed 100% of the Lapwings that the cold weather brought, but that Ferruginous Duck more than makes up for it. That won't happen again for a while, in fact never again is the most likely scenario. Walking around the patch this morning the ice largely persists but you can feel the warmth in the air, and pretty soon than warmth will also continue moisture - lots of it! I made the most of the brief window and went through the Park and across the Flats. Despite the continuing ice there was definitely a bit more clear water, especially under the overhanging trees, and I was pleased to find a couple of drake Pochard hanging out. Even better a pair of Little Grebe made themselves known, and then on my way back home a Linnet chupped overhead. That puts me on 62 for the year, a vaguely acceptable total for this point in January. In years past I've got to this number on January the first, but these days I don't have either the stamina or the inclination. Well, more the inclination I suppose, I could still toddle around all day if I absolutely had to!

Changing the subject completely, I've just got back from The Gambia and Senegal, and I had time over the last few days to have a quick spin through the many photos I took whilst out there. I've not had sufficient time to process them all, but here is one that jumped out, a glorious Red-throated Bee-eater. Birds like this lift the soul, the perfect tonic for a cold, wet, blustery and generally miserable January.