My old life

I was reminded today of my previous life, the one where I was happy and carefree, and struggled with basic things like shopping for food, and keeping children fed and happy. And dusting. I didn't work for over two years, and as anyone will tell you, not needing to work is completely amazing. The freedom, the deep breath and exhalation of air in the knowledge that the world (within 20 miles) was your oyster and that you could do anything you wanted (after you'd picked up all the Lego from the floor and done four loads of washing). We had to tighten our belts a bit, but I stretched it out for a good long time, a time that was in retrospect perfect in terms of where the kids were at. Obviously all good things have to come to an end, and when my youngest started school, that was my cue, as I couldn't be allowed to slob around with just a couple of school runs to do. I had a job within a month - in hindsight I should have attempted to fail the interview in order to eke out a bit more time. That was now over two years ago, how time flies, and I am well and truly back in the thick of it, and believe me when I say that it's like I never left.

Occasionally though, just occasionally, I hark back to that magical time and remember not only how utterly incompetent I was, but how pleasant it was. Plenty of people in this country are stay at home parents, and whilst it isn't all plain sailing, it is extremely worthwhile and rewarding. The flip side is a certain degree of poverty, for instance not shopping at Waitrose, and holidays lacking in Caribbean flavour, but I survived these minor inconveniences before getting back into the job market. Some time after I went back to work, Tony B also got the heave-ho and a cardboard box with his things in it. Having been through it myself, I knew that it wouldn't be easy - a dent in confidence, a blow to the ego, and then the worries that come with being unemployed - but I also knew that like me, he would cope admirably. He too had small children, and they would see him through it. And he enjoyed himself thoroughly, including poaching many birds on the Flats while I was at work. You will note the use of the past tense. Yup, sadly for Tony it's all over, and he's back to work as well. I'm disappointed that he hasn't been able to spin it out for as long as I did, but I guess he probably isn't quite as feckless and lazy as I am. I hope he finds it easy to transition back into it, back into the relentless world of working to other peoples' deadlines. But that's life, that's work for you. We all know there's no such thing as a free lunch.

I'd get up relatively early, and potter in the kitchen. I'd help the kids out with breakfast, and then turn into a Sergeant-Major in order to ensure we got to school on time. And then, well at least until three or so, the day was MINE! I had Pudding, and mostly we did very little, but on occasion we did some outrageous trips - she has a great little list of rare birds - seeing Great Spotted Cuckoo on her second birthday will presumably always remain a highlight for her. We spent a lot of time in the garden, and a fair amount of time on Wanstead Flats, where the reward of a playground was never too far away. In between times I learned a great deal about cleaning products, washing, shopping, even a little cooking. Nobody died. Let no man say it isn't hard work, certainly not until they've tried it. I even had to take on potty training, something I never thought would come my way. And come my way it frequently did.....

I'm back at work now, and this idyllic period seems a very long time ago. It was bloody brilliant and I cannot recommend it highly enough, especially if you have young kids. But actually, even if you don't have kids it would still be amazing. Free time. Nothing to do. Just imagine that. Wonderful.

Blasphemy

I am considering not doing a patch year list next year.

Bad, huh? I mean, could this in fact be blasphemy? Is Lee going to issue a fatwa, especially as I'm not even second division in that other facet of birding, twitching? It's not that I am bored of the patch, not at all. I love it, but I simply cannot do it justice, and it really annoys me that I can't get out there anywhere near as much as it needs. Time is at a premium, work is ridiculous, I travel a little bit, and the bottom line is that I don't have time. Can a patch be done just at weekends? I don't think it can. Although this year has been a record-breaking year for me, actually mostly other people have found the birds and I have simply popped out to see them. Counting them up, of the 17 what I would consider less-than-annual birds on my list for 2013, I've found just six of them and twitched the rest. Maybe this isn't so bad in the grand scheme of things, a relatively lively ratio in fact considering how little I went out there in comparison to some of the others. Nonetheless it still irritates me, and my response is to maybe give up. Now that I put it like that, sounds pretty crap. Oh dear.

Maybe it's all Nick's fault? He is fortunate enough to be able to do the patch all morning every day. This means that I have lost count of the number of times that I've had to leave to go to work, and he has turned up something good either as I've been on a train, or at my desk. As you can imagine, this is very painful. Once, fine. Twice, OK, I'll cope. All the bloody time? Gah! Especially when the bird in question was probably there the whole time, but as is the habit with small birds, inactive/still asleep when I went through early on my way to Canary Wharf.

But that's not the sum of it. Far from it. The patch is way too busy, even early in the morning. The seemingly exponential increase in usage from all quarters is driving me insane. Stunningly arrogant and loud dog-walkers, all out at the crack of dawn. The litter left everywhere, from innumerable all-night drinking clubs, from the mass scattering of water and sports drink bottles after football, the devotions of rice and so on left on the edges of ponds, to the absurd quantities of rotting bread left out for birds. The joggers who run in front of my lens, the man who listens to air traffic control from the Wheatear log of all places, the radio-controlled planes that ruin weekend afternoons. And of course the gay cruisers that hang around Long Wood, and what they leave behind. The fact anybody finds any birds at all is astonishing, and the overall effect is spoiling it for me. The dog walkers are the worst of course, but quite a few of the others aren't all that far behind. Mind you, I'm rather tense at the moment, and it takes ever smaller indiscretions to annoy the crap out of me.

So what to do? Not bother? Seems weak, but it may be the answer. If I can't go round it very often, and when I do I can't move for other people and half the birds are asleep, then it lessens the pleasure I get from it. And that is if course the whole point. But is being miserable about not doing the patch worse than a lesser amount of happiness, and fair amount of annoyance, from doing it a small amount with a lot of disturbance? One to ponder. I would definitely miss it, but equally maybe a rest from it would refresh it for me? Then again, what would I do instead if birding was restricted to the weekend only, as seems likely. Would I be desperate to get out there, or would I be keener to go further afield?

Back on home turf

Very sadly I'm back home. Well, a bit sadly. If I travelled all the time it would get boring, so it is good to be back. Chateau L is intact, the storms failed to make a dent, and the various guard crocs, deadly crossbow traps etc were similarly untouched. I Always feel mildly nervous about blogging from abroad, but what's the worst that can happen? I've got most of my camera stuff with me, and if somebody has a go and doesn't succumb to the wild beasts, then I guess I get a pile of shiny new stuff via the insurance. Hassle factor I suppose, but that's about it. Anyway, I'm rarely away so it's a moot point.

Unpacking is largely complete, and the final images are downloading on to the computer. My laptop has colours that I largely don't trust, so I'm going to go and have a look in a sec to see if what I uploaded from abroad looks any good on a real screen. I did check on my phone, which stupidly enough has a better screen with better colour rendition that the laptop, and they looked OK there, in so much as you can check anything with any certainty on a 4 inch screen.

Whilst I am genuinely pleased to be back (it is after all still Sunday), the first thing to note is that I am cold. I left St Lucia very warm, and now am cold, and Chateau L seems like a tomb. The second thing to note is the singular lack of Hummingbirds of any description. I've been scanning the garden over cups of tea, and there has been no activity whatsoever, which as you can imagine is highly disappointing. And thirdly, it appears to have been a quiet week bird-wise.......oh dear.

Actually, whatever. The risk of going away and missing rare birds is not something that concerns me greatly. I am not a big filthy twitcher, or at least, not so filthy as to be in Shetland one day, Cornwall the next, and the Hebrides the day after. Which is basically what would have been required, and I reconcile myself to not having seen all these biggies by realising that even if I had been here, I would not have gone for any of them. For starters I would have been at work, and work and twitching like a nutter are largely incompatible. And not forgetting, of course, that my view every day for a week was this....

Another tough day

The most demanding bit of today was probably having to go back to the room to source some music and earphones to drown out the sound of some immensely loud American tourists who had been ferried in to my beach - the cheek of it. As you know, I don't watch a lot of TV, but these were the people on whom Family Guy was modelled. I hate to say it, but New York and Boston featured heavily. But not for long, as they were replaced by Townes Van Zandt, who I believe was from Texas, and though you might think that would be even worse, in fact he is a highly intelligent man with many sensible things to say. And not incredibly loudly and mildly drunkenly whilst slobbing around in my water. I digress, and happily they were shipped out pretty quickly, though the beach remained pretty busy for most of the day with various parties coming in to take advantage of the fabulous snorkelling.

I spent most of the day flopped on a very comfortable lounger doing my best impression of a slowly reddening whale, listening to my usual mix of eclectic music, and reading The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of his Window and Disappeared. Amazingly I drank only one beer all day, and in this manner Friday passed very satisfactorily. When I got too hot I had a quick dip in the Caribbean Sea, and then returned to my book. When I got hungry I ordered some Tuna. And when I finished my book I went off to chase Hummingbirds again, once more with limited success. I've got one more chance tomorrow, and then that's it for at least another year, unless I win the lottery.

 

As I suspected before I left the UK, my trip list is desultory. I saw more birds on my first day on Shetland than I have here. The grand total is 38, unless something spectacular happens tomorrow. l'm actually quite pleased with the mediocrity of this total, as it shows very clearly that I have had a proper holiday holiday, rather than my usual hectic holiday that largely revolves around chasing after birds from dawn until dusk. Compare this trip, for instance, to my trip to Finland this summer, when I came back completely frazzled and not quite sure what time of the day or night it was. Or even who I was. Here on St Lucia I'm tucked up in an extremely comfortable and enormous bed by about 9pm every night, and sleep until at least 6am with not a care in the world. The biggest decision each morning is what to have for breakfast, followed by which ISO setting to use.

 

The Hummingbirds were very frustrating today - another sign that life is tough. I have a particular shot in mind that just isn't happening for me. It involves an Antillean Crested Hummer at around 45 degrees, swooping down, with the head inclined slightly towards me and the crest lit up like a Christmas Tree. I've managed a few completely out of focus ones in the general pose, but I just can't get it bang on. Perhaps I am asking too much? I did at least manage some better flight shots, and better crest shots, but there is a long way to go and time is running out. Birds are going to be so crap when I get back to Wanstead....

 

 

 

 

St Lucia Hummingbirds

I like Hummingbirds a lot, they're simply brilliant. Much of my time here has been spent watching them, listening to their buzzing as they zip from flower to flower, admiring how they deftly flex their bodies into curves to change direction, up, down, side to side, seemly with little or no effort, skilfully positioning themselves perfectly in line with the entrance. Unlike Tobago, there are no feeders here so you don't see the birds as frequently, but after a few days you get to know which flowers they prefer. Thunbergia is a clear favourite, interesting that it doesn't originate in the Caribbean at all. There are three species here, the Green-throated Carib, the Purple-throated Carib, and the Antillean Crested Hummingbird - this latter is easily the most numerous, at least where we are staying down near the sea. There are a few Green-throateds around, but the Purple-throated seems to prefer higher altitudes which is where we saw them on a rare foray away from the hotel

Purple-throated Carib

I've just checked my list on Bubo, and I've only seen ten species of Hummingbird - clearly this isn't enough. My field guide to the West Indies has two pages of them, and my guide to Trinidad and Tobago had several more. In both instances though, the number of species on the island that mattered was very small. I really need to go to Trinidad and Costa Rica, either of these places would bump up my paltry total considerably. Trinidad for example has around 17 species, of which 13 would be new. Asa Wright is definitely calling, unfortunately not for some time I suspect. I'll get there though, I'll get there.

female Antillean Crested Hummingbird

 But you take what you can get, and on the basis that there are none in Wanstead or anywhere else I've been lately, this place is pretty damn wonderful. In addition to simply marvelling at the birds, I've also been doing a bit of stalking. The whole flash set up that I had envisaged is basically useless as you can't be as mobile, and I can't be bothered to stake out one particular flower that a bird might visit once every 30 minutes. With the feeders you could guarantee constant activity, and be ready for it, but here the tactic has been to quickly spot a Hummer coming in, and then getting ready on the group of flowers it is visiting - just like bees they tend to visit most of the flowers on a bush or plant, so if you're quick you can get into position as they start their round. Generally I am far from quick enough, but gradually I am getting some worth keeping, at least until I get home and see them on a real screen.

Green-throated Carib

 

 

The Antillean Crested Hummer is the smallest of the three, and the crest is quite extraordinary. Sideways on, as you can see below, it's just a few spiky feathers - a bad hair day. But face on, and if caught in the sun, the true iridescence becomes visible - it is indescribably blinding. I've not yet managed to capture this entirely satisfactorily, but the final two photos below show what I am talking about.

 

Mr L's latest vacation...

Ok, ok. So I'm actually a bit further away than you might have thought, but I reckon I've still travelled fewer miles than quite a few UK twitchers this week! Yes, travelling again, I may be addicted. This is actually my last trip of 2013, and it has admittedly been a rather good year. I'm currently soaking it up (rum, mainly) on the island of Saint Lucia in the Caribbean, a welcome break from my normal life of fun and frolics at Canary Wharf. Whilst this trip is firmly R&R, relaxation and chilling out, I would be lying if I said there were no birds. Didn't bring a camera though....

Actually I lied. Of course I did, I cannot conceive of ever going anywhere without a camera. So far it has got me into trouble with the marketing manager of the hotel, worried that I was a paparazzi after her guests. Nice thinking, but firstly I was one of her guests, and secondly I would be completely unable to recognise a celebrity even if one were lying next to me on the next sun-lounger along. Subsequently it got me into trouble with security guard, at which point I called an extremely effusive and apologetic marketing manager.....

Hassles aside, the hotel is sensational. We have a roof terrace with a plunge pool and a fan, and a tree at eye level which is full of Bananaquits, various Hummingbirds, Carib Grackles and Lesser Antillean Beer-driking Bullfinches. It has also hosted a Scaly-breasted Thrasher, a Grey Kingbird, and a Grey Trembler. Broad-winged Hawks soar overhead, and out in the bay Frigatebirds wheel about. It is warm and muggy, with occasional rain showers clearing the air, and I am very happy. Lots of fresh fish is being eaten, and a great many rum-based cocktails are being drunk - it's important to support the local economy....

Long distance twitching

I'm currently on an extended long-distance twitch, and I'm seeing loads and loads. I know I've been to Shetland a few times, and the Scillies too, but I never genuinely believed that offshore islands could be this good. This place is amazing, but I'm going to be writing descriptions for the next fifteen years, as almost every bird I see is a tick. It's warmer than St Mary's, and not as windy as Sumburgh, but other than that broadly similar. More frogs perhaps, but that would be about it.

 

Could almost be Unst