Net migration

Four visits to Portland this half-term may have failed to deliver the hoped for Dorset mega - several rare migrants being netted and ringed but not seen again after their release - but in addition to the raptors featured in my last post, there were still some other attractive birds to photograph. Perhaps most widely appreciated by birders dipping on the Red-flanked Bluetail and the Pine Bunting was the Reap Lane Turtle Dove. The precipitous reduction in the number of this once commonplace species in Britain is well documented so I won't bang on about it here. Suffice to say if the depressing combination of factors which have contributed to its decline could be reversed we could all look forward to spring, and the sight and sound of this handsome bird, a little more.

Turtle Dove, Reap Lane

This bird seemed unperturbed by people, dogs and even the local cats

A few years since I last saw one in Dorset

I lay down to get these photos, doing well to avoid the obvious hazards of Reap Lane, a favoured area with dog walkers

When not on the ground it was roosting in a small Sycamore yards from the path

Stonechats always seem quite obliging on Portland

This the female of a pair

With the Siberian Accentor invasion still ongoing, Dunnocks have been getting a bit more scrutiny lately

A few Redwings were in evidence on Portland this week

A pair of Ravens on Portland

A small crowd of fellow Bluetail dippers at the Bill

West Cliffs, Portland

I also managed a visit to Durlston this week - Blackcaps were the most conspicuous warbler

This a female Blackcap

Skylarks were on the grasslands...

...and a late Small Copper was in the gully  

Evening mist in the Frome Valley

Turtle Dove

Turtle Dove

Binge birding

Family visits and illness have prevented much birding getting done in recent weekends so I was overdue a binge this one, and spent most of Saturday and Sunday in the field. The justification for doing so on Saturday was provided by my long lost friend Nigel, down from London for the day, who contacted me out of the blue to say he was into birding now and wanted to see some raptors.

Little Egret, Holes Bay - several seen during our day out

Smew - present in Holes Bay first thing Saturday but not later when we completed our circuit of Poole Harbour

Spoonbill - a bit of a banker species - this fine adult was at Middlebere, another young bird was at Holes Bay

Eager to oblige, after a quick twirl around Holes Bay we headed off to Middlebere. Hen and Marsh Harrier, Kestrel and Buzzard were all in the bag after less than an hour so with raptor-lust thus satiated we continued around the harbour to notch up the usual fayre of Black-necked Grebes, Mediterranean Gulls, Purple Sands, Avocets and Spoonbills, most of these lifers for Nigel.

Dunnock: low hanging fruit for the photo year list (#74)

Greenfinch: ditto (#75)

A stunning drake Wigeon in Holes Bay

Apart from dipping on Dartford Warbler (a speciality of mine when friends visit, I blamed the cold, windy weather this time), Sparrowhawk (Nigel made a specific request, I had to explain they were tricky to produce on demand) and Smew (one was in Holes Bay in the morning when I did an early recce, but could not be found by the time we returned in the afternoon), most of what I hoped to lay on for my visitor duly appeared.

Marsh Harrier gave a close flypast at Middlebere

Marsh Harrier

Hen Harrier was not so obliging, but still good to see

Not that he was that bothered, and there is clearly a way to go before he has fully turned to the dark side. I assumed that, travelling from London for a day trip, he was getting pretty serious and looking to see as many species as possible that can't found in the environs of Forest Hill, salubrious though they are, to boost a burgeoning list and feed a growing obsession. But no, he was happy to see a Hen Harrier and the Spoonbill was an exotic bonus. A typical snippet of conversation:

Me: 'So the plain backed wader with the long straight bill is a Black-tailed Godwit, while the smaller one with red legs is a Redshank; not that one though that's a Spotted Redshank as it's paler grey with a finer bill and longer legs...'

Nige: 'I'm not sure I'll ever get the hang of these waterbirds. I'm pretty determined not to try'.

Me: 'You really haven't got the hang of this birdwatching thing yet, have you?'

Green Woodpecker, Studland (#76)

Mediterranean Gull, Studland

Purple Sandpiper, Sandbanks (#77)

So, as you can see, he's still far too well adjusted to be considered a proper obsessive, and I clearly have some work to do. Another visit is already being planned...As for this weekend's birding binge, that will continue into the next post.

Avocet. 'Nice and easy, Nige: black and white, upturned bill, same as on your RSPB Birdspotters Book' 

'Also nice and easy: Curlew, long de-curved bill, and speckly on the back.

Black-tailed Godwit (#78): 'A bit trickier this one - straight bill, plain back in winter, not to be confused with Bar-tailed Godwit, which has a similar bill but back more like a Curlew and...' Nige: 'Whatever.'

Greenish with envy

After a successful Pacific Swift twitch in Suffolk on Saturday - try saying that when you've had a few - I thought I would take the liberty afforded by Father's Day to look for another good bird closer to home on Sunday. The Greenish Warbler on Portland was always going to be tricky as it was reported as elusive before being trapped at the Obs, and kept an even lower profile after being stroked by the ringers (who wouldn't?).

Linnet, Portland Bill

I didn't see it in the end but there were some friendly faces to catch up with anyway. These included Kevin, the County Recorder (non-birders please note, that's like a Bishop in birding, or a Company Secretary, if you prefer a secular analogy); and Brett, who taught me more about my 7D camera in 2 minutes than I've worked out for myself in two months. Apparently you have to put batteries in. Who knew!

Dunnock, Portland Bill

Also present was a small flock of Mitchells, my near neighbours in Purbeck. The head of the family has a reputation for calmness, reasonableness and boundless patience. But then she's not a birder. Her husband is though, and a respectable member of the Dorset Bird Club politburo to boot. While he can normally be found diligently completing his WeBS counts and Breeding Bird Surveys around Poole Harbour, we occasionally have to stage a kidnapping so he can get away from the thraldom of proper birding and the Sunday leagues to twitch quality birds like Sandhill Crane in Suffolk, or Spanish Sparrow in Hampshire.


Whitethroat, Portland Bill

Apart from birds, the other thing Mitchell Snr and I have in common is that and our sons play for the same under-10s football team, and while mine shows no interest in birding, his has just started listing (BOU 103 already). I've often wondered how I would feel about my own boys getting into birding. On the one hand, it would be great to teach them the ropes and have someone to share the pleasures of the hobby with.

Wood Mouse on the Observatory Wall, Portland

On the other, I might miss the solitude, which is a big part of the attraction. On balance though, it has to be a good thing, and at this fundamental level: when age catches up with me, my pension won't stretch to a pager and I've lost both memory and bladder control, I'm going to need someone to drive me around to see birds.

Dartford Warbler - not on Portland, this one on a recent visit to Morden Bog

Now that both Mitchell Snr and Jnr are birding, I do wonder what will happen in future if a good bird turns up during a game. I, for instance, wouldn't hesitate to slope off unnoticed by normal people, but as fellow bird-nerds they would now both know exactly what I was up to. Then again if the bird is good enough, all three of us might be keen to go. How would we get away? Perhaps if Mitchell Jnr feigns injury me and his dad could act as stretcher bearers? But then what about my son? Could we really leave him behind? Of course not!

Redstart, Morden Bog

So there's only one thing for it: convert him to the dark side too. I've already tested the waters:

Dad: 'So do you think you'll get into birding then?'
Son: 'No. I'm not the birding type.'
Dad: 'And what is 'the birding type' exactly?'
Pregnant pause
Son: 'Patient. And quiet.'

I was secretly impressed: tact, self-deprecation and self-knowledge. Not bad for a 9-year old. Whether he takes to birding or not, it's a comfort to know that for now at least we still have one important thing to unite us: neither of us has Greenish Warbler on our Dorset list.

Redstart, Morden Bog