The Beardies of Avalon 28th September 2020

It was Monday.The wind had dropped to nothing and the sun was shining.So a vague plan that had been at the back of my mind for all of Sunday, about going to see some Bearded Tits, became a reality. I decided to head for Avalon or for those of you less romantically inclined and not of a fanciful nature, a place called Westhay Moor NNR (National Nature Reserve), that lies on the north side of the mystical Avalon Marshes which in turn are found deep within the Somerset Levels.The whole area still imparts a sense of how wild and strange this place was in times long past with its vast reed beds, lakes, hidden pools and raised bogs. Take any trail and soon you are in a world that seems to be from a long gone and forgotten time.

Avalon is thought to be the former island that is now Glastonbury Tor just a few miles from Westhay and is where, so legend has it, King Arthur's sword was forged and the king was taken to his final rest.I find this kind of legend irresistible, especially in these troubled times, as it gives something to take me away from the grim realities of a deeply troubled world that confronts me, us, everyone, day after day.

Heading down the busy M5 motorway, passing the sprawl of Bristol and the industrial stain of Avonmouth, King Arthur and Avalon seemed a very distant prospect and my spirit was correspondingly low. Worse, the early promise of the sun was soon hidden by light cloud and the morning sunk into a grey and still sullen-ness as I headed west.

Turning off the motorway I found myself on narrow rural roads penetrating ever deeper into the vast flatness of the levels. A silence and timelessness had settled on the land, as if it were holding its breath and Avalon seemed that much more possible and credible as I progressed deeper into a landscape forever associated with this most enduring of legends.

Eventually I found myself at Westhay Marshes NNR but the small car park was closed and being re-surfaced so it was necessary to park by the side of the road along with a number of other cars. Getting myself together I walked across the car park and down a rough track that would lead me to my ultimate destination.

My focus was a narrow short boardwalk that led to a hide called Island Hide but I was not interested in the hide but the boardwalk itself which runs through a reed bed that often harbours Bearded Tits. Normally elusive and shy, the birds can be attracted into the open by spreading tiny particles of grit. At Westhay grit is regularly sprinkled on the boardwalk in autumn and winter so the birds can come to collect the grit which they need to aid digesting the tough fibres of the vegetable matter and seeds they eat at this time of the year. One bird was found to have 600 grit particles in its stomach. In summer their diet changes to insects.

The Beardies at Westhay, as they are affectionately referred to, are now widely known to birders and photographers alike, making this as good a place as any to come to see and photograph a bird  that is usually very shy. Mind you there is no guarantee that your visit will always meet with success. My last visit with Moth a year or so ago met with failure but with patience and a measure of good fortune you  have a good chance of seeing one or two, maybe even more.

I walked through an area of reeds and ponds that were eerily quiet.Not a breath of wind stirred the reeds and the only sound was a sudden loud exclamation from a Cetti's Warbler, as ever invisible in the reeds. A quarter of a mile  down the track I came to the start of the boardwalk on my right. 

Immediately I could discern the distinctive pinging calls of Bearded Tits but they were completely hidden in the reeds. I was not the first to have arrived here. In fact I was quite late, arriving at 10am when popular opinion says you should be on the boardwalk well before 8.00am as that is when the tits show themselves most reliably.

There were already half a dozen birders  and/or photographers ensconced on the narrow board walk in two groups. I passed by the first group and joined three photographers further down the boardwalk who told me I had just missed a Bearded Tit feeding on the grit.

I stood quietly with them and we waited to see what would transpire. At first there was little to see or hear but then the tantalising pinging calls resumed and we could both hear and sense the tits very close to us but totally invisible at the base of the dense reeds which surrounded the boardwalk. Then in the myriad reed stems, where they showed above the boardwalk, there was movement and a male Bearded Tit hopped out onto the boardwalk but some way down from us and was only there briefly before thinking better of it and flying back into cover to join others of its kind.

Well at least I could say I had seen one which was a marked improvement on my last visit and I had not had to wait too long either but it would have been nice if it was closer, which I was told they often are. I got talking to my three companions and discovered one, sitting wth his back to me, was none other than Richard, who I know well from various previous encounters in and around Oxfordshire. It's always nice to meet someone familiar to share the time with. We waited and a female appeared and remained for a few minutes, then a male arrived to join her. They departed and another wait ensued and then, well nothing much happened for quite some time. 

Female Bearded Tit

Male Bearded Tit

We sat or stood on the boardwalk hoping that when and if they re-appeared the Bearded Tits would be closer. Sometimes they can be very obliging but at other times they remain frustratingly distant. I guess it also depends on how many people are standing or sitting on the narrow boardwalk and how quiet they are. Today there were not that many of us, maybe ten but larger numbers might spook the birds.Most of us kept conversation to a minimum but as is often the case nowadays others felt the need to talk rather too loudly.

Time passed by but there was nothing to see. Occasionally one or two Bearded Tits would appear but always distantly, well down the boardwalk and there was little indication that they would come any closer. Other birders joined us to wait and see what happened but it remained quiet.We heard regular pinging calls from the reeds around us, sometimes very close but that was as far as it got and the birds remained invisible, their location at the base of the reeds betrayed by the odd wildly swinging reed stem.

I was beginning to think I had missed my opportunity by getting here too late. My erstwhile companions had been here since before 8am and had already seen the Beardies well, before my arrival. I looked at my phone. One and a half hours had passed. It was 1130am. The cloud cover however had relented, rolling back to allow sunshine to transform the scene. Fifteen minutes later, yet more pinging calls came from nearby, and shortly after two Bearded Tits  appeared from the reeds and commenced shuffling around on bent legs on the boardwalk, feeding on the sprinkled grit. Even better they were much closer than any had been before. Everyone seized the opportunity to get their images and watch them and to our immense good fortune they remained feeding for an extended period although the male was far more nervous than his mate, regularly diving back into the reeds but on seeing the female continuing to feed unconcernedly he would return to join her. Their presence attracted another pair and so there were now four on the boardwalk

I alternated between watching and photographing them and finally counted five feeding on the boardwalk, three males and two females. As time passed they seemed to become more settled  and although undoubtedly aware of our close proximity were untroubled, provided we kept movement and noise to a minimum.

What is there not to like about a male Bearded Tit? Such a handsome little bird, his domed, dove grey head, black moustaches and golden yellow eye and bill complement his marmalade coloured body, his fore flanks suffused with pale lilac pink.They are a really beautiful bird, forever restless and mobile and I made the most of this close encounter wth them.

The birds fed contentedly for around thirty to forty five minutes. I was too enthralled to worry about the time  but it was  a prolonged spell and I considered I had been very lucky.Patience had paid off and for once I got a just reward.

It was now 1230 and time was up. The Bearded Tits, presumably full with grit, flew and landed in some distant reeds. My companions went to try their luck in the Island Hide.There has been occasional sightings of a Spotted Crake from the hide recently but it is very elusive and tales of six hour waits to see it briefly flying from one reed bed to another were not encouraging.

Instead I drove to the nearby village of Shapwick as I had overheard a conversation about a flock of Cattle Egrets associating with some cows in a field near the village. A short drive delivered the required result as, on another deserted lane, I parked on a small bridge spanning a stream and counted twenty seven Cattle Egrets wandering amongst the herd. They were wary so I remained in the car.

This was easily the largest number of Cattle Egrets I have seen together in Britain but soon they too will join the Great  White and Little Egrets as a regular sight in this country and no longer be remarkable.

A good end to my visit to Avalon.