Showing posts with label Pink-footed Goose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pink-footed Goose. Show all posts

Sunday, 27 October 2019

Island hopping

Day two of a short trip to the Isles of Scilly saw me heading to St Agnes, an island with a legendary record for hosting rare birds. A few minor rarities had been reported there the previous day, including a Spotted Sandpiper from the Americas, which was enough to tempt me into making the journey.
Red-throated Pipit, St Agnes
Red-throated Pipit in this plumage shows strong black streaks on a white breast...
On arrival there was no sign of the Sandpiper but St Agnes certainly held promise, with a larger number of common migrants than I had seen on St Mary's the previous day. I headed inland to search for an apparently photogenic Lapland Bunting which I saw, but only in flight as it headed back to the beach I had just left. Retracing my steps the Bunting continued to elude me so I headed back up the slope to where I had first seen it in the hope that it would return, as indeed it did.
..and normally whitish mantle stripes but these were not so prominent in this individual
Note the short, spiky bill with yellow base
In the intervening period news had broken of a Red-throated Pipit, a top drawer rarity which breeds in the most northern parts of Europe, on the island. As is often the case, the report concerned a bird heard calling in flight, and in such circumstances that is usually the end of it. As I was watching the Lapland Bunting with a small group of birders, a shout went up that the Red-throated Pipit was in the field behind us less than 100 yards away.
The whitish mantle stripes more visible from this angle
Red-throated Pipit
Approaching the field and peering over the dry stone boundary wall, there was the Pipit, parading in the grass at close range with Meadow Pipits conveniently close by for comparison. It flew around a couple of times, giving its distinctive call, before moving off after just a few minutes. It was a very fortunate encounter, illustrated by the fact that a friend from Dorset who was staying on the island missed the bird in the short time it took him to walk up from nearby Porth Killier.
Lapland Bunting, St Agnes
Lapland Bunting, St Agnes
I had resolved to get the 1415 boat back to St Mary's so headed for the quay where breaking news of an Isabelline Wheatear on Tresco caused a re-think. Initially I didn't think I had the energy for a yomp the length of Tresco, but was talked into it by the promise of seeing only my second individual of this species. The Guiding Star returned to St Mary's but the same launch took us straight to Tresco, removing any need to disembark. We would have only a couple of hours before the return trip which would leave from the 'wrong' end of Tresco, so a brisk march was required to get to King Charles's Castle at the north-western tip of the island where the Wheatear was being watched.
Pink-footed Goose, St Agnes
This Pink-footed Goose shared a field with the Red-throated Pipit
On arrival we saw the pale Wheatear straight away, standing out like a beacon against the dark heather. Initially distant, it was flushed closer by some castle visitors, enabling us to get a few record shots - not easy in the light of that Scilly speciality, a late October heat haze!
Isabelline Wheatear, Tresco - sandier brown upperparts compared to Northern
Isabelline Wheatear, Tresco
Despite the no-show by the Spotted Sandpiper, a good second day then with two high quality breaking rarities seen in T-shirt weather, and without the usual stresses of island hopping on Scilly in October.
Isabelline Wheatear, Tresco - note broad black band on the tail
Northern Wheatear on St Agnes for comparison

Monday, 6 February 2017

The best laid plans

'Fail to plan, plan to fail' say the text books, an aphorism I sometimes find myself using when being unnecessarily pompous at work. Then when my own plans come crashing to the ground, I am reminded of the alternative philosophy posited by the well known management guru, Mike Tyson: 'Everyone has a plan - until they get punched in the face'.
Distant Pacific Diver at East Chevington: incapable of sticking to a perfectly good plan
Pacific Diver shows a vent strap, part of which is visible here
These conflicting truisms rather sum up my weekend before last. The plan was as follows: drive through the night to see the sun rise at Druridge Bay Country Park in Northumberland, where a Pacific Diver had been giving the definition of crippling views on Ladyburn Lake. I have seen the returning Cornish bird several times so while it would not have been a new bird for me, the opportunity to photograph a confiding major rarity is what makes me tick these days, so it seemed worth the effort. If the Diver was present, I would fill my photographic boots and be on the road south by 1000 at the latest, get down to North Yorkshire for noon, tick my first British Pine Bunting, and then take a birder's detour on the way home via another long-staying, photogenic diver, the Lincolnshire White-billed, to complete a remarkable rare double-diver day. And with luck, I would still be home in time to tuck the children in to bed.
Pacific Diver lacks the white flank patch of the commoner Black-throated Diver, and is generally a dinkier bird - as comparison with a Coot shows
Pacific Diver has a paler grey hindneck compared to Black-throated Diver
The perfect plan, then: all I needed to do was execute it. Originally I was going to go on Saturday, but a poorly wife, and a glance at the weather forecast, persuaded me to leave it until Sunday. I drove part way up on Saturday evening and stayed at a motel to make Sunday's driving less tiring, and pulled into an icy car park at Druridge Bay as the sun was rising. Julian Thomas from Somerset, a familiar face from the Portland scene, pulled up next to me and with no-one else around, we strolled to the lake in anticipation of a close encounter with the Pacific Diver. It soon became apparent that the Diver had gone - the first day in nine that it had not graced Ladyburn Lake with its presence. I resolved to check the pool at East Chevington, where the diver had been seen before it relocated to Ladyburn, and concluded it wasn't there either after a cursory scan of the pool - too cursory as it turned out, as a call from Julian relayed that it had been found at the far end of the pool by a more diligent observer.
A mixed flock of White-fronted and Pink-footed Geese flying over Druridge Bay
Another skein of Pink-footed Geese over East Chevington
A breathy canter to the far end of the pool enabled a few record shots to be taken, and excellent telescope views to be had, and while it was bitterly disappointing that the Diver had chosen today to not perform at close range, at least I had seen it. By the time I left, I was half-an-hour behind my original plan - an imperfect, but recoverable situation, or so it seemed at the time. A relatively smooth journey to Dunnington near York saw me arrive just after 1230, and as I made the short walk from the car to the paddock near where the Pine Bunting was showing, birders leaving told me that it had been seen just minutes earlier.

I spent the next couple of hours grilling a large feeding flock with which the Pine Bunting had hooked up, as birds flew from a weedy field to the surrounding trees. Yellowhammers, Corn Buntings, Reed Buntings, Tree Sparrows, Bramblings, Chaffinches, Greenfinches and Bullfinches came and went but no Pine Bunting. It had been seen on and off in previous days either here or in a nearby sheepfield, so with enough daylight left to still go for the White-billed Diver, I tried the sheep field, where a seeded area was attracting plenty of Yellowhammers. While there, the Pine Bunting showed briefly back at the paddock - too briefly for me to get back in time to see it unfortunately. It didn't show again before I left at 4. So no Pine Bunting, and no time for the White-billed Diver either.
Tree Sparrows are much easier to see in the north of England - they were present at Druridge Bay and the Pine Bunting site
Close, but no cigar: Yellowhammer is a near relative of the Pine Bunting, another bird which hadn't read the script
Unbroken rain accompanied the long journey home. By the time I reached Dorset I had rationalised it quite well with the usual guff about how it would be no fun if rare birds always did what they were supposed to etc etc, and consoled myself with the thought that I had the best views of Pacific Diver I have enjoyed to date. Pine Bunting becomes officially my bogey bird, having now dipped a few, though with several being found this winter, perhaps I will get another opportunity to see one before long. A Plan B, if you will.

Monday, 21 March 2011

Last of the Pink-feet

This apparently injured bird was one of only two Pink-footed Geese I saw on the North Norfolk coast today. Plenty of Brents still around, and resident Greylags, but the many thousands of wintering Pink-feet and White-fronts had presumably headed off to their breeding grounds.