Winter on the wing

I'm not a huge fan of rugby, but I do love the Six Nations. I went to a grammar school where the games master was sadistically fond of the game, to the extent that when, after a rare football match enabled me to show a turn of pace and score a couple of decent goals, instead of letting me start a team, he said he wanted to see me run down the wing like that in rugby.

Golden Plover, Maiden Castle

I was able to photograph these birds from the car window, using the car as a hide

Momentarily inspired, at the next available training opportunity I gave it a shot, regaining consciousness a few minutes later with a mouth full of dirt and the fat kid who had pummelled my head into the turf laughing over me. Thus ended a glittering rugby career, forsaken thereafter for cross-country, known in our school as 'the smoker's sport'.

Fieldfare near Wareham

Part of a large flock of winter thrushes

A wonder then that I look forward to the Six Nations at all, though in truth I do so not just for the sport but for what it signifies about the time of year: when the championship starts, it's still winter, and by the time it comes to a climax, spring will be underway. Here I am uploading photos of wintering thrushes, and by the time it's over, I fully expect to be posting images of the first migrant Wheatears of the year to hit the Dorset coast.

Fieldfare is often accompanied by...

...Redwing

Back-to-back bouts of man flu have curtailed my outdoor exploits of late, so it was good to curl up in front of the TV yesterday and watch the games, but today I felt well enough to drive to a few local spots which I knew would provide some opportunities to do a bit of birding and photography from the warmth and comfort of the car.

Robin

Shetland day 5: momentum

Success with the PG Tips, and a full Sunday roast with all the trimmings prepared by yours truly, sent us out into the field with a spring in our step on Monday 2 October. Part of the appeal of Shetland in autumn is that, due to the relatively high proportion of rarities to common birds on the islands at this time of year, and the relative paucity of observers, the visitor has a reasonable chance of finding their own good birds. Even a duffer like me could understand this, and that very morning I found my first Red-breasted Flycatcher in Swinister Burn, a short walk from our accommodation.

Little Bunting, Grutness

An attractive bird with a neat crown stripe

The Little Bunting showed during a welcome spell of sunshine...

...and provided brief but excellent opportunities for photographs

Red-breasted Flycatcher, Swinister Burn - my best 'find' of the week

Twite, Grutness

Splitting up to cover more ground whilst maintaining contact was an important part of our game plan, and in this we were greatly aided by the loan of a set of CB radios from Jonathan Lethbridge, better known on the interweb as the Wanstead Birder - thanks Jonathan. These marvellous bits of kit saved a lot of faffing with mobile phones and hedged against the risks of an often intermittent mobile phone signal on Shetland (in saying that, I'm not having a go Shetland, it's still better than my house in Wareham!).

Only on Shetland - I couldn't work out why the lens wouldn't focus on the RB Fly - it was being photo-bombed by a Yellow-browed Warbler!

Spotted Flycatcher, Swinister Burn



Several Redstarts were near the Sumburgh Quarries - this a male...



...and this a female

Twite at Grutness

Twite at Grutness

Not only did the CBs enable us to stay in constant contact, they proved a useful means of holding a verbal referendum on whether to keep thrashing the adopted patch, or knock it on the head and go look at other people's birds! So it was that when the Red-breasted Flyatcher refused to show for the rest of the team we quickly agreed to move on to pastures new. Specifically, to Grutness near Sumburgh Airport, where a Little Bunting had been seen. This sat out superbly for us in the sunshine on a lichen covered wall - a photographic highlight of the trip.

Chiffchaff, Grutness - one of several tired migrants which appeared to have just arrived, making them easier to approach

A nettle patch at Grutness was bouncing with migrants - including this female Blackcap...

...a male Blackcap...

and several Goldcrest

Taking the idea of the 'tyred migrant' too literally perhaps?

A House Martin was battling in the strong wind at Grutness

The wind was still whistling past nearby Sumburgh Head: too breezy and explosed for a seawatch but we still managed three Long-tailed Ducks and a pod of dolphin. Howard called them initially as Rissos's but revised the identification to Bottle-nosed as the characteristic body scarring of Risso's was not visible. I grabbed some record shots and while pretty convinced they were not Bottle-nosed, they didn't look like Risso's either - I expected that species to have a flatter front end rather than the stubby snout revealed by the pictures.

This Common Seal was just off the beach at Pool of Virkie...

...as was this much larger Grey Seal

Grey Plover, Pool of Virkie. Compare to...

Golden Plover, seen in roadside fields later in the day

Ringed Plover, Grutness

The spray here illustrates the strength of the wind

Posting the sighting as Bottle-nosed Dolphin that evening, Howard was contacted by Hugh Harrop who advised that this species would be a rare sighting in these waters. After an exchange of photos he confirmed they were indeed Risso's, a fact we could now see for ourselves when looking at pictures online of younger Risso's which show a stubby nose and a lack of body scarring, which is acquired by battling adults later in life. I had never seen Risso's Dolphin before, so with a new mammal to add to the new bird of the previous day it felt like we were on a roll. 

Turnstones, Pool of Virkie

Dunlin in the seaweed at Pool of Virkie

Ringed Plover, Poole of Virkie

A couple of Goosander were just offshore at Pool of Virkie

Risso's Dolphin, Sumburgh Head

The first Risso's Dolphins I have seen

The weather had taken a turn for the worse by this time, so we returned to birding from the car: Loch of Spiggie held a flock of elegant Whooper Swan; Loch of Hillwell an even more elegant and long-staying Common Crane; and a good selection of waders at Pool of Virkie included singles of Curlew Sandpiper, Grey Plover and Sanderling. Best wader of the day though was a Little Stint, discovered in the improbable location of a puddle in a farm entrance at Noss. An eventful day then, with a good find, a new mammal and an excellent supporting cast. The morning would see us chasing another Shetland rarity - come back soon to find out what.

Whooper Swans, Loch of Spiggie

Common Crane, Loch of Hillwell

Little Stint, Noss

Little Stint, Noss

These rusty rods became famous this time last year when Britain's first Siberian Accentor chose to perch on them in a Scousburgh Quarry

The runway at Sumburgh Airport - traffic lights stop cars on the main road when the runway is in use

A dramatic Shetland landscape

One more of the Little Bunting with a halo reflected from a passing plane at Sumburgh Airport

Shetland day 2: bring your waders

Our base for the first two nights on Shetland was a remote croft at Collaster on the western part of the Mainland. The croft had only been recently made available for self-catering and the owner had been taken aback by the level of interest in the property. He was a good host though, and as well as a warm welcome we found a fridge stocked with an impressive selection of breakfast meat. Keen to get out in the morning, we saved this for an evening fry-up, and while unlikely to appear in the M&S 'healthy eating' range anytime soon, it was an impressive spread.

Snipe

Golden Plover

Several frying pans were needed to hold the meat feast laid on for us: bacon, sausages, black pudding, haggis and saucermeat - a sort of offal-based, sausage-slab affair as far as we could tell, and apparently a Shetland speciality, pronounced by the locals as 'sossermit', almost in a single syllable.

Brambling

Ruff

Before that though there was birding to be done and bearings to be got. We started as we meant to go on, hunting out likely looking patches of habitat and grilling them for birds before moving on to the next. Over the next 24 hours my Shetland education continued, and I started to appreciate the radical differences between birding the archipelago in autumn and birding at home. Whereas in Dorset I might go to an extensive patch of specialist habitat or a nature reserve, up here a patch could be a tiny stand of willows or even a solitary tree.

Great Northern Diver

Great Northern Diver

Similarly, whereas at home I would typically avoid areas of human habitation in search of wildlife, on Shetland, gardens are one of the most likely locations to find the cover necessary to attract birds in an otherwise treeless landscape. 'Walk in the ditch, not in the road' was one of the many rules of the game to be observed and good guidance it was too - over the course of the coming days this flushed out a number of birds - nothing particularly rare, but enough to prove the wisdom of the advice. The poor weather continued, so there was also a bit of birding from the car in that first few days - a good way to see waders in roadside fields.

Hooded Crow

Slavonian Grebe