The Magnificent Seven

With the exception of a long-staying individual which spent a week in Swanage whilst I was on a family holiday a few years ago, migrant Bee-eaters don't seem to hang around for long in Dorset. Wednesday 15th May was an intense day at work, so much so that it wasn't until some time after arriving home that I tuned in to the local grapevine to find that a flock of seven had spent the afternoon at Durlston Country Park. Long-suffering readers may recall that in a previous life I once had the privilege of having this superb Dorset Council facility under my professional wing.

Finishing dinner with the family about 1830, I realised that there was still plenty of time to get to Swanage before dusk and finally add this spectacular southern European species to my Dorset list. My good friend Jol Mitchell was on site and had offered advice on precisely where to head. but on meeting up with him, one of the Durlston Rangers and Phyl England near the visitor centre, there was no sign of the flock. After ten minutes everyone started to head their separate ways and I found myself alone in the meadow where they were last seen. A minute or so after everyone else had disappeared from view I heard a faint but unmistakeable 'bloop-bloop' call from the south east, and within seconds the equally unmistakeable shape of a Bee-eater appeared over the tree-line.

I gave my loudest possible whistle in the hope of attracting the attention of those who had just left and fortunately they all heard me and re-joined me in the meadow. We had reasonable but not exactly close views of what looked like four or five birds, mostly in the air but occasionally perching in Ash trees around the perimeter of the meadow. From our angle it looked like they might be feeding over the famous Long Meadow to the east of the access road, so I headed there and tucked in under the trees next to the road. Sure enough, for the next hour the Bee-eaters made repeated sallies around the area, performing some impressive acrobatics in pursuit of Durlston's healthy population of flying insects.

As if this wasn't exotic enough, at one point the air filled with the raucous sound of parakeets, refugees, we assumed of the tiny population of Ring-necked Parakeets from Studland. Three birds circled the long meadow and with one obviously larger than the others we assumed it would be an adult with two juveniles. On closer inspection of photographs, however, it later emerged that the big one was an Alexandrine Parakeet - a native of India with feral populations in various European countries.

Birthday treats

It was my birthday recently - a stuttering but undefeated innings of 48, in case you were wondering. To celebrate almost half-a-century of under-achievement I cleared my professional decks, booked the day off work and did some birding around Poole Harbour. The children were at school and Claire was at work, affording me the luxury of neglecting the entire family to go looking for birds without guilt.

Lesser Yellowlegs at Lytchett Bay

Green-winged Teal, just leaving Lytchett Bay

Redhead Smew distantly in Holes Bay

The once fierce competition between Lytchett Bay and Swineham as Poole Harbour birding locations, a fire stoked in these pages on more than one occasion in the past, has tailed off somewhat in recent years. Lytchett has gone from strength to strength under sympathetic management by the RSPB, being diligently scoured by Top 10 Patchwork Challengers (impressive, though I still think Patchwork Challenge sounds like a needlecraft contest). Swineham has gone downhill under a less wildlife-friendly regime, being wilfully neglected by feckless regulars like yours truly. So much so that I felt barely a flicker of shame in shunning the latter for the former to go looking for Lytchett's two long-staying winter rarities from the Americas: a Lesser Yellowlegs and drake Green-winged Teal.

Dark-bellied Brent Geese at Baiter Park

Coot, Poole Park

Drake Goldeneye and Red-breaster Merganser were out in the middle of Poole Park lake

The Yellowlegs was easy enough, sitting out nicely with a Redshank for comparison, the only two medium-sized waders on one of the pools. The Teal required a bit more luck: it flew off just after I arrived, but not before a kindly soul had let me have a quick squint at it through his scope, hence the dodgy record shot above, hurriedly snapped as it pelted away. Around the corner a returning redhead Smew was in Holes Bay for its third winter, while Poole Park held a few photogenic fowl as always. I caught up with a trio of Great White Egrets slightly further afield at Longham Lakes before heading over on the Sandbanks ferry to complete a circuit of the Harbour.

A lone Black-tailed Godwit was on the shore of Poole Park lake

Little Egret, Poole Park lake

Three Great White Egrets at Longham Lakes

The last hour of daylight was spent at Studland, where the raucous calls of a couple of Sandwich Terns were a cruel reminder of just how far away is spring, and the even more raucous calls of the local Ring-necked Parakeets were an equally cruel reminder of just how far away and warm is their native India.

Ring-necked Parakeet, Studland

Ring-necked Parakeet, Studland

Sandwich Tern, Studland

I would say watching the sun go down at Studland completed the day, but that wasn't really the end of it as on arriving home there was a birthday present to play with: the US Capitol building from the Lego Architecture range. Quite repetitive assembling the orderly lines of neoclassical columns and other fiddly bits, but ridiculously satisfying, a pure indulgence, and, I am reliably informed by the teenager of the house, substantially more socially acceptable than making an Airfix model. The perfect gift for the middle-aged man-boy in your life.

The US Capitol Building courtesy of the Lego Architecture range - George Washington laid the first brick. If you listen carefully this model makes a strange whirring noise: the sound of a miniature George turning in his grave.

Catching up

I'm a bit behind with posts so here's some old news from last weekend. I hit the heaths in the hope of adding to the photo year list with my main target being Great Grey Shrike. There were two in Dorset to choose from - one at Morden Bog and one at Godlingstone Heath, but I fancied Studland so headed there first. Steve Smith gave me directions which were spot on, and after a bit of a yomp out to the heathland edge I managed a reasonably close approach before a yappy dog put the bird to flight. Jol and I then watched our sons almost certainly blow their chance of the Dorset Youth Football Under-12s League Division 3 championship in a top of the table fixture against Ringwood, so we went and had another look late afternoon to dull the pain. Returning to the same spot the Shrike was distant but fortunately flew in to not far from where we were standing. A harsh sidelight made photography difficult for Joe and I but it was a great view nonetheless.

Great Grey Shrike (#90)

The light improved later in the day on a return visit

Fieldfare (#91)

After that it was time to scrape the barrel, photo wise, with some distant but tickable Fieldfares, some even more distant but still tickable Slavonian Grebes, a badly photographed but tickable Ring-necked Parakeet at Studland, and a trio of untickable Great Bustards from the Salisbury Plain reintroduction scheme which have been knocking around the Dorset coast for several weeks now.

Ring-necked Parakeet - gaudy but tickable (#92)

Slavonian Grebe in the gloom off South Beach, Studland (#93)

Great Bustards

Great Bustard - the first of the released birds I have seen in Dorset or anywhere else for that matter

 

A glass half full

Well, it's been quite a week. Finding but failing to identify a rare bird has always been one of my worst nightmares - reputations being so fragile and all that, and the birding community seeming a bit unforgiving at times. But now it's happened, it's turned out to be, well, a pretty positive experience. In fact, as I write there is still a warmish glow which can't just be put down to the half-empty bottle of Badger in front of me.


Slightly eclipsed by the Northern Harrier on Monday, this smart but shy Garden Warbler was singing from deep cover by Portland Obs

Even I got this one: shorter hindclaw, pink base to a stouter bill, bold streaks fading to fine on the flanks and contrast between buffy breast and white belly makes this a Tree Pipit, not a Meadow. And it was in a tree. A hint of the light spot/dark spot face pattern of an OBP. Oh God, please don't tell me it is an OBP....

Finding a Northern Harrier on Monday (but not clocking its true identity - take a bow, Martin Cade) might not have done much for my reputation as a crack birder but it seems to have brought my scribblings via this medium to the attention of a wider audience. Some really generous comments on my finder's account - so a big thank you to all who made them. If you enjoyed that, scroll back far enough and you'll hopefully find more of the same, though admittedly in my posts the rare bird is usually gone by the time I arrive, and generally not found by me. Unless it's dead.

Willow Warbler was the most common migrant on Portland on Monday. Pale legs help differentiate it from Chiffchaff. Hmmm, Pale-legged and a Warbler. On a Leaf. Nope, it's not ringing any bells.

This Sparrowhawk was taking advantage of the influx of migrants on Barleycrates Lane on Monday. Those shins look rather sharp though, don't they...

Just when the interest seemed to have peaked, Birdguides pronounced the Northern Harrier the 'Bird of the Week' on Wednesday, producing another spike in the blog stats, the graph for which currently looks like a screenshot from a heart monitor on Casualty. Being the glass half-empty sort I was initially disappointed at not identifying the Harrier myself, but the level of interest has made me realise I was lucky to have anything to do with it at all, and that a share in the credit is more than enough, especially given the good company I get to share it with. I also started to wonder aloud what sort of photos I might have got five minutes earlier when I would have been on the cliff edge as it passed close by. Jol Mitchell, a glass half-full man (Arsenal fan, he has to be) pointed out that five minutes later and I would have seen nothing, which is a much better way to look at it.

So how come Steve Smith gets to find nice easy ones to identify like this Hoopoe? Photographed at Greenlands Farm, 24th April.

Ooh, ooh, I know this one: Linnet, Barleycrates Lane

Two things brought me back down to earth with a bump though. First was going back to work on Tuesday, not least because nobody had any inkling of just what a big deal it was for me. Actually that's not quite true - my colleague the excellent Dr Phil Sterling - whose book on micros will almost certainly be on the shelves of any moth aficionados out there - sort of understood. Though being an expert he's usually the one tutting at the schoolboy error made by some chump misidentifying something, so I'm not sure he could really relate. Second was the heated debate which kicked off in our local internet birding forum about art on nature reserves, which generated infinitely more comment than my potential County first. To paraphrase the fuse-lighter on that one, what the flip?


Black-eared Northern Wheatear, Greenlands Farm. Well it has got a black ear.

Yellow Wagtail, Greenlands Farm. Which sub-species? I think we've established that's not really my forte, don't you?

Anyway, having strung stretched the whole business out over two posts now, I am conscious of the risk of gripping the assiduous locals who put in the hours and would have been far more deserving finders of a Northern Harrier than yours truly. So I'll try to make sure this post is the last time I mention it, at least until the 'Review of the Year' comes along anyway.

After the excitement of Monday morning on Portland, it was off to Studland with the family for the afternoon. Even they enjoy seeing the local Ring-necked Parakeets, though this one was well camouflaged.

No identification conundrums here.

For the last word on the subject though, of particular interest to me was the number of people who said they liked the candour in my last post. Honesty is definitely in my top 10 list of virtues (see Bubo for the full list), so that was much appreciated. I'm pretty sure there is more doubt out there than people are prepared to let on sometimes, so if my freely admitting to not knowing something makes it easier for others to do so, then my work here is done. Hang on though: I described myself variously as clueless/halfwitted/etc so perhaps 'honest' wasn't a such complement after all...There I go again, glass half-empty. Better go and top it up again. Cheers!