Goals Update

Seeing as we are now two thirds of the way through the year, I thought I might revisit my 2010 goals. The Personal Goals are going pretty well. The Professional Goals are going fairly badly - the story of my life. Or rather, the story of I don't know what to do with my life.

So....

Professional Goals
- Potty train Pudding before spring migration - DONE (15th April, but better late than never)
- Improve my cleaning skills in an undefinable way - YES, DEFINITELY.
- Find a new career that does not involve banks -.... NOT DONE. NOT EVEN REMOTELY...

Personal Goals (geeks may wish to skip this section)
- 2 new birds a month for a BOU list of 362 by 2011 - ADDED 15, 1 UNDER PAR
- 150 for Rainham in 2010 - 145, ON TRACK
- 100 in Wanstead again - 101, DONE
- 220 for London & 235 for Essex - 223 LONDON, DONE. 231 ESSEX, GETTING THERE.
- Get a haircut - DONE. TWICE. CLEAR OVER-PERFORMANCE.
and
- Become a better birder... - OOOOH, LOTS TO SAY!

So, Potty Training you know about. Easy. If you're new here, the glorious detail is recounted here and here.

The house looks nice, mostly, but is actually a tip. I have three children, without paid staff it is impossible to keep clean. I want a different goal.

My head is well and truly in the sand on the job front, but there have been two possible pointers. One is that I now have a column in Birdwatch magazine, thanks to this blog having been an advertising service for my ritten egnlish. This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted to do, but unfortunately cannot really be called a career. What I need to do is work out how I can expand this. Who else could I write for? Newspapers perhaps? Perhaps write a book? Truly I have no idea.

The second is that I finally got around to setting up that gallery website to showcase the best photos I have taken. In truth this took only a day, and I find myself wondering why I did it and what purpose it serves? Yes, I can take a half-decent photo of a bird if I can get close to it. And? Wildlife Photographers have portfolios consisting of thousands of images. I have about 150. How does one get thousands of images with three children in tow exactly?

What I would ideally like is a career where I can write lots and lots, which I find easy, go birding lots and lots, which I am finding easier, and take lots of nice photos, which I'm also finding easier. Oh, and get paid enough to live on for doing so. Answers on a postcard. I am honestly no closer to working out how to achieve this nirvana than I was six months ago, and am headed back to finance at this rate.

On the tick front, I've added 15 this year, including a memorable three tick day which got me back in the game. I'm currently one under par, but it's a curve rather than a flat line, so I'd expect to over-achieve in the autumn. It is mainly all down to luck.

Wanstead is on 101, so I'm done on that one and won't be going on the patch again this year. Rainham on the other hand is on 145, 146 if I include a Barnacle Goose, and in fact if I include the Cockatiel and the Zebra Finch, a mighty 148. Rainham is also probably the best place in which to get the remaining four birds I need to get 200 in London this year. Consequently I went there both days this weekend, and added one, a Curlew Sandpiper flying down-river. Although the possibilities for those four additional London birds are slim, there are still heaps I need for my Rainham year list. I'm confident of hitting 150 quite soon.

Because I've been going for more or less everything in London this year, this first goal turned out to be quite easy. The additions have been Marsh Tit, Slavonian Grebe, Pink-footed Goose, Dusky Warbler, Hawfinch, Hoopoe, Sandwich Tern, Wood Warbler, Quail, Common Rosefinch, White-tailed Plover, Arctic Skua, Kittiwake, and most recetly, Ortolan Bunting. Many of these would be quality birds anywhere, but in London, well it's nothing short of amazing. Of the fourteen, seven of them have been at Rainham. Without Rainham, my London list would be 176, although possibly I may have chased stuff elsewhere for a few more. It's a special place.

In Essex, I've added eleven. Both Wanstead and Rainham are in Essex, but they only account for three. However most of them were in London, and can be attributed to my foolish quest to see 200 birds there this year. Adding another four just in Essex should be easy. I have no idea why I set this goal. In fact I have no idea why I set any of the bird-listing goals, they are all pointless.

Haircuts, two. The latest was a mere four days ago, so I am now gloriously neat and trim, and no longer look like Susan Boyle. Winner.

And so we come to me becoming a better birder....

Betsy & Toto

Hello Everyone!

This is Betsy, a Springer Spaniel. Betsy is a ve-ry naugh-ty dog. Yes, that's right children, Betsy was running in the long grass where the nice Skylarks live. Tsk Tsk. However, Betsy is just a dog. She doesn't know any better. She loves nothing more than to bound through tussocky grass and chase small brown things. She can't read. She doesn't know that the small brown things are Skylarks. She doesn't know about declining habitat and the IUCN Red List. She's just a dumb animal.

Her owner on the other hand can read. Or is presumed to be able to read. There are many signs on Wanstead Flats asking dog-owners to keep their dogs on leads whilst traversing the grassy areas. Betsy's owner ignored the signs, which meant that Betsy nearly caught a Skylark. Betsy's owner is selfish, stupid, vacuous and ignorant, kids. Children, what would you say to her if you saw her letting Betsy run through the Skylark's home?

This is Toto. Toto is a Pomeranian. Toto is also a ve-ry naugh-ty dog. This morning, Toto tried to bite my left ankle. Luckily years of inbreeding have rendered the jaws of a Pomeranian so pitifully weak as to be unable to penetrate denim, else I may have a neat semi-circle of puncture wounds. Children, I confess I may have uttered a naughty word.

I gently nudged Toto to one side using my boot, and remonstrated with Toto's owner.

"Your dog just bit me!"

"Oh. Did he? Oh...."

Toto's owner is rude, ineffectual, stupid and vacuous, kids. She is unable to keep her dog under control, and was unable to offer any kind of apology for its actions. In fact, as I examined my ankle, she just walked off with Toto trotting beside her. Toto should be on a lead and muzzled, or perhaps just euthanized. What would you say to her, children, if you saw Toto bite someone? Remember, no naughty words now....

Hard Work at Stoke Newington

Returning from not seeing a Hen Harrier at Rainham, I wondered about twitching Mark's Pied Flycatcher at Stoke Newington. I am falling rapidly out of love with London year-listing, and this was a much-needed easy one. There have seemingly been Pied Flycatchers all over London this year, including a bird I just couldn't connect with in Wanstead (being in Norfolk didn't help....), and thus far I had been unable to sum up the enthusiasm to try for any of them. With time possibly running out, I had very nearly cracked yesterday, only to sink back into my reclining chair, exhausted.

Seeing as I was in the car anyway, I decided I would go. What the hell, push the boat out. Tell you what, Mark has a tough life. He is forced to work in frankly intolerable conditions, with a horrible, horrible wildlife garden mere feet away, and a really dreadful sky-watching platform only a little further. I wouldn't stand for it, but somehow he sticks at it, day after interminable day.

Realising the hopelessness of his situation, he was in deep in the doldrums when I met up with him in the garden. I could tell he was extremely depressed. Yup, he hadn't seen a Redstart for at least ten minutes, a Pied Flycatcher for over an hour, and there had been no Honey Buzzards for a whole week! I really felt for him, and in an attempt to cheer him up started trying to get some easy IDs wrong.

I am of course jesting. The place is wonderful, a haven. Tea, coffee, birdsong, a raptor-filled sky, and a duck-filled reservoir. The fact that he achieves anything is remarkable. I wouldn't have the discipline, I know I wouldn't. It's a Community Garden run by the London Wildlife Trust, and as such has loads of interesting stuff, ponds, bits of wood, a den under the platform and so on. I let the kids loose, and started concentrating on the trees that border the channel.

It was harder work than I anticipated. The garden is relatively small, but it borders a tree-lined reservoir, the new river path, and no doubt numerous gardens. It is, as they say, habitat-rich, and for the first hour or so, all I had were Chiffchaffs, a Garden Warbler, and a single Spotted Flycatcher. I thought I saw something flit through a larger tree that looked promising, but could not find it again. The Spotted Flycatcher eventually came and sat out, so I called Mark who came out for a break with his camera. Instantaeneously, the bird activity increased ten-fold. He must emit pheremones or something. I was amazed an Osprey didn't come and perch on the fence, but all of a sudden the trees near the river were alive. One Spotted Flycatcher became two, a tit flock moved through with several Phylloscs, and Mark saw the Common Redstart briefly. Then he had to resume work, so went back inside, and everything melted away. I've never seen anything like it. I decided to stick it out just in case, and after about ten minutes was rewarded by a decent view of the male Redstart in the large tree. There was something else at the back too, two birds chasing each other, but I could never get on them before they moved. Five minutes passed, with occasional glimpes of Redstart, and then there it was, a Pied Flycatcher. It may have been the bird I couldn't quite see, or it may not have been, but it certainly took its time giving itself up. It flitted over the river, over my head and into a large willow behind me, where I failed to refind it a mere twenty seconds later, so it must have gone straight through. So two hours for a five second view, hardly satisfactory on that front, but a great site tick, a real gem of patch, and I'll definitely be back.

If anyone's counting, my London 2010 yearlist now stands at 195, and I'm fed up with it. Five to go, and no real clue as to what they're going to be.

No camera today, so have a Whinchat and two Spotted Flycatchers from Wanstead Flats last weekend.

Anthropomorphism

Do insects smile? I think they do:

Common Darter, smiling in my garden

Cory's will have to wait until next year

Unless something extraordinary happens in Wanstead, I'm resigned to not seeing Cory's Shearwater this year. This is a great shame, as I really wanted to see one. The main problem is that there don't appear to be many in British waters, so if I apply the same sea-watching dedication in a good Cory's year, I'm sure I'll score.

Yesterday and today were the last throw of the dice. The forecast for Norfolk looked great - can you tell where this might be leading? Yup, once again, and for the umpteenth time, what appeared to be a great forecast failed to deliver the goods. Perhaps my weather-forecast reading skills need sharpening, or perhaps my expectation of what constitutes a good sea-watch is sky-high. Either way, a howling force 8 northerly gale, strong enough to rock the car as I slept in it, didn't produce spectacular numbers of rare sea-birds.

I drove up yesterday night and gave it a quick go in the evening. Plenty of Skua action, but not a lot else. Today was the same story, except for six hours. Loads of Great and Arctic Skuas, a few Manxies and Sooties, and stacks of ducks on the move, including many Pintail. Bird of the morning was a Storm Petrel, by all accounts somewhat of a Norfolk biggie, which I somehow failed tio get on while all around me lapped it up. Not to worry, I thought, saw loads last week, and I don't want a Norfolk tick anyway as it will mean that Essex lags even further behind. I am somewhat touchy about the fact that the list of birds I have seen in Norfolk eclipses that of Essex, my home county. I should probably just accept it and move on, but it feels wrong. For the record, it's 238 plays 230. Little league.

Anyway, there I was congratulating myself on having been inept enough to miss it, when a full five minutes later an unmistakable Storm Petrel appeared in my scope. It promptly disappeared again, but it was too late, the damage was done. Rats. Gradually the weather cleared, and whilst it remained very windy, the sea-watch was over. I gave it until midday, by which time it was blue skies and sunshine, and then gave up. No Long-tailed Skua, or at least not one I am prepared to year-tick, and not a sniff of a Cory's. Maybe next time. I should probably go up on a day of southerly winds and bright sunshine. I expect I'd get several.

At this point I was at a loss what to do. Should I stay or should I go? I elected to have a nap in Cley, but was rudely awakened by news of a Red-backed Shrike about a mile away. Oh go on then. Rule number #162, always go and see Shrikes, remember? It was just a Red-backed Shrike, but they are always nice to see. Got a tolerable photo as well, before being shouted at by the anti-photographer brigade for crop-trampling, despite actually being on a track. An insignificant detail apparently. The Shrike was between me and him, so rather than shout back that in fact I was doing no such thing and risk scaring it off, I retreated so that he would stop shouting and not scare it off. Which he did, no doubt very pleased at having seen another photographer off, and the Shrike stayed put. Don't get me wrong, I think people should have words with photographers who overstep the mark - no point being all coy about it and then moaning (using a pseudonym) on Birdforum afterwards. But before you do, perhaps check where they're actually standing, rather than just guess? Anyway, to the guy who decided to 'have a go' in total ignorance, this is for you.

Catching-up with Spotted Flycatchers

Just a taster, more on the new shiny website, which is imaginatively called Justbirdphotos.com, but rarely have I enjoyed a photography session more. There were up to ten Spotted Flycatchers in the scrub just east of Alexandra Lake, and they were constantly on the move. Keeping up with them, wading through brambles, was extremely difficult. Luckily there was a stiff breeze blowing, so they were favouring the leeward sides of various bushes, else I wouldn't have stood a chance.

They are incredibly agile. Peering through my viewfinder, I could see their eyes tracking insects that were invisible to me, and all of a sudden they would flit off their perch and be back in seconds. One of them brought back a wasp at one point, and deftly got rid of the sting by repeated rubbing on a branch. Clever birds these. 12 gigabytes disappeared in an hour, and 729 photos later I retreated, knowing I might possibly have some good ones.

The weekend is going exactly as planned, with the exception of not finding a Pied Flycatcher in the Old Sewage Works, which was first on my list and the reason why I got up at 6am. It was pretty dead, so I went and did the SSSI instead, which was also pretty dead. The action only really kicked off at about 10am, when all of a sudden all the migrants appeared. In addition to the ten or so Spotflys, there was a Whinchat and a Redstart. Patch-birding rocks.

Sea-watch South-East

Whilst the good folk at Sea-watch South-west might fall over laughing at our "haul" yesterday, in a local context the river was phenomenal. And I missed half the birds and still thought it was amazing!

Thoughtful parent that I am, I considered that a visit to Rainham where I sat on the balcony and looked at the river for several hours would perhaps not appeal to the children. This ridiculous behaviour cost me 4 Sandwich Terns, 3 Little Terns, 4 Black Terns, a Great Skua and a Common Scoter. As soon as the 3 Little Terns came up mid-morning, that was it. I bundled the children into the car and off we went, hoping that I hadn't missed the action. The filthy weather was clearing; I figured I had probably buggered it up.

I needn't have worried. The tide was still rising and the passage of sea-birds still strong. I guess the theory is that provided the wind is right and the weather murky, the birds will be forced into the estuary at that point, and even it clears up later, once they're in, they're in, and struggle to reorient themselves eastwards. I cannot remember seeing so many Common Terns at Rainham before, probably my personal tally was around 200, and Dom, who had been there since the start, had more like 300.

Likewise I had seen a grand total of 2 Sandwich Terns in London ever, and saw a further 9 or so go past, and missed about 6 more. Bird of the day from my perspective was a superb juvenile Kittiwake that went by at around midday. An immense London bird by all accounts, and certainly a tick for me, and not one I had expected to get any time soon.

And the children I hear you ask? Well they were OK. Who I am kidding? They were brilliant, stunning children. We were there for five hours and only in the final hour did the cries of "when can we go home?" start to appear. I was helped by the fact that there is a small playground directly in front of the balcony, and and the ready availability of sausage rolls in the cafe. Nonetheless they were fantastically well behaved, hardly any disputes, and just played for five hours straight. The previous four days had been more or less constant rain, so perhaps they were just pleased to finally be outside and running around? They are now having a beach weekend on the Isle of Wight, which should heal the scars.

Meanwhile I have been birding. All day. A funny old day spent dashing between Rainham and various other Thames estuary sites, but ended up with two year ticks, two Essex ticks, and a bvd on my list converted to a seen properly. This latter bird was a very nice female Kentish Plover at East Tilbury. The only other I had ever seen was a distant dot off Canvey that perhaps I should not have counted, though it was the correct dot. I feel much better now.

There was also a juvenile Red-necked Phalarope conveniently at Vange, and I finished the day at Wakering Stairs where for the past week there has, and continues to be, an Osprey sat on a post. Despite lugging round a large and heavy camera for the entire day, I didn't use it once. Instead I am treating you to phone-scoping. Rarely will you see a better photograph of an Osprey I'll wager.