Frogging and Togging 26th February 2026

It was blustery this morning, not particularly cold but the strength of the wind blowing down the narrow valley was enough to  make it feel colder than the recorded temperature suggested. Needless to say the sky was the colour of woodash and the sunshine of yesterday but a memory.

I find it barely credible that a year has passed since last I came here to these three inconsequential shallow  pools, lying well within the boundary of the city but here I am again admiring the frogs that have lain  dormant in holes, recesses or whatever dark hiding places  they have chosen throughout the winter and are now emerging to greet another Spring and begin the timeless ritual of courting and spawning, all in a matter of a few days before disappearing once more to their hideaways, leaving the favoured pools to nurture their progeny and provide for another generation of frogs.

Today as I looked down from the boardwalk, the pools the frogs so faithfully return to each year looked devoid of any amphibious life but strange contrary ripples on the water's surface told otherwise, betraying mysterious frog activity below the surface.

I stood silent and motionless which is what you do if you wish to see the frogs, which with a multitude of predators take easy alarm especially at a looming presence such as mine.I must look a  giant to them as they poke their blunt noses and gold rimmed goggle eyes above the water to survey their immediate surroundings.

Slowly and cautiously, around a dozen heads emerged above the water, the bodies lying prone in the cold water supported by blades of riparian plantlife . Gaining confidence a few individuals begin jostling each other and moving across the water's surface with jerky movements before adopting their customary static pose as if waiting, which I suppose they are, for a female to  appear and hopefully to clamber onto her back and when the time comes fertilise the eggs as they pour in a jellied stream from her bloated body.

This morning there were a couple of males clinging onto females backs (a behaviour called amplexus) but no spawn evident, while other male frogs were still instinctively trying to clamber on each others backs, heedless and blundering in their all consuming drive to procreate 

The above two images show a male and female frog in amplexus.Note the difference in colour
between the male (grey) and the female (brown)

A couple of frogs decided that they wanted to move from one pool to another and in a series of giant hops proceeded across the intervening dead grass. Each hop was followed by a long period of immobility as if the frog was seized by doubt about exposing itself away from its natural environment and was assessing whether it was safe to chance another hop and risk drawing attention to itself. 

A few gave brief voice,  a subdued and desultory purring, not unattractive in its gentle rhythmic pulsing the sound reminiscent of a distant running motor.Today it had to compete with the sound of the gusting wind but soon ceased as if the frogs were deterred by the weather and lack of competition .

My visit today was probably premature so I will return in a few days when hopefully the numbers will have increased. Last year the pools dried up in the summer drought and I assume the tadpoles perished so maybe the numbers of adults will not be so plentiful this year. I can but hope for the best and will know soon enough.

I spent ninety minutes standing alone by the pools, the busy city if not visible certainly audible above and around this shallow valley that harbours one of the most endangered habitats in Britain and contains a host of of rare native plants lovingly protected and tended by a band of dedicated volunteers 

The frogs, themselves are becoming endangered so are just as much part of this and are the first welcome intimation of Spring and the onward march towards another year's regeneration.

Away Day for A Great Grey 21st February 2026

I have seen a fair number of Great Grey Shrikes over the years in various parts of Britain and when I first moved to Oxfordshire I took my then very young daughter to Farmoor Reservoir and one of the first birds we saw was a Great Grey Shrike which unbeknown to us was spending the winter in the fields and bushes around the western end of the reservoir. Its presence prompted a small newly created reserve between the reservoir and the River Thames to be named Shrike Meadow.

It has been a while since I saw my last Great Grey Shrike - four years to be exact and that was on Shetland in the autumn. Always a scarce winter visitor to Britain varying between 10-60 records per year they have latterly become very much more scarce for reasons unknown but possibly to do with global warming. They breed in northern Europe, (north of 50 degrees latitude) and Asia and migrate south in winter to more temperate regions.

This winter there have been very few records in Britain but one was found frequenting fields and hedgerows near the village of Fillingham in Lincolnshire on the 10th of January and has established a winter territory there and is being seen daily.

Its territory is based around a large square field of rough grass bordered by thick thorn hedges, this field appearing to be set aside from all the surrounding fields which are cultivated.

With nothing on the local birding radar on Saturday and no rain forecast for Fillingham, on a whim I decided to re-acquant myself with this fierce and charismatic predator of the hedgerows.

It is a long drive to Fillingham, longer than I anticipated but after two and a  half hours I found myself amongst the flat wide fields of Lincolnshire and passing through the small village of Fillingham came to rest on the corner of a country road.

Not quite sure where to go from here but knowing I had to walk, luckily another birder drew up behind me and knew where to go. It was easy as  adjacent to the road was a locked gate blocking access to the farm fields but a gap by the gate allowed access to a footpath leading out alongside a hedgerow with the shrike's favoured rough grass field on the other side.

We took the path and then went through a gap in the hedge to find ourselves standing at the edge of the rough field which was surrounded on all four sides by tall thorny hedgerows that looked as if they had been deliberately left untended and joined two other birders already looking at the shrike perched in the hedgerow on the far side of the field.

There was little other birdlife around apart from some Grey Partridge, calling in the field but frustratingly remaining hidden in the rank grass and invisible while Skylarks sang overhead.

The shrike was an obvious but distant grey and white presence in an otherwise dark and leafless, unkempt and tangled hedgerow.

We watched it preening and occasionally dropping to the ground but always flying back up to what appeared to be its favourite perch. A bit too distant for decent photos we waited for it to move closer but it was in no hurry and remained where it was. The other three birders left and I was on my own standing on a wet muddy track by the hedge with the wind blowing fiercely onto what was quite an elevated and exposed position, as I had a panoramic view across land that sloped away in both directions into a murky distance.

The hedgeline where I stood initially to observe the shrike

I was joined by another local birder and at his suggestion we approached the shrike more closely which showed little alarm and remained clinging steadfastly to its perch. 

Satisfied we withdrew and resumed our position standing under the hedge to wait and see what the shrike might do. A few minutes later the shrike suddenly flew along the hedge, a flickering of black and white wings, mobbed by a Reed Bunting and away to the far end of the field to perch there briefly. 

The shrike then flew back over our heads to perch at the top of the hedge we were standing under.

This gave us an unexpected and welcome opportunity to take some more images as it swayed at the very top of a twiggy branch, buffeted by the wind.

This shrike has become well known for hovering like a kestrel, low over the field and pouncing on voles but it only did this once and briefly while I was there and unfortunately I missed the opportunity to record it as I was the wrong side of the hedge. I waited for a couple of hours but the shrike spent most of the subsequent time perched in the hedge and in the end I grew tired of waiting.and decided it was probably time to make the long drive home.

Tarred and Feathers 16th February 2026

After yesterday's rain it was with some trepidation I looked out of the window only to be greeted by bright sunshine! What's going on! So accustomed to the doom and gloom of what has been weeks of rain  I was thoroughly unprepared for this welcome sight.

An hour later I determined to take full advantage and make a day of it, out birding the local lakes around my part of West Oxfordshire. I say local lakes but so much rain has fallen that many other transient lakes have formed over fields and in low lying river valleys hereabouts, adding considerably to the natural ones which in turn have expanded exponentially, overflowing their banks to such an extent that adjacent roads and paths are now temporarily shallow streams as the huge volume of extra water seeks an escape route.

My destination of choice was just south of Witney, our local town, at what are now called Rushy Common and Tar Lakes, the former a nature reserve for key holders only, offering a range of habitats including standing water, ponds, ditches, islands and a gravelly shore line while the adjacent Tar Lakes is an area of open lakes and grassland available to the general public for recreation.Both form part of what is the Lower Windrush Valley Project (LWVP) which was set up in 2001 to convert former gravel pits and quarries back to  a diverse range of natural habitats.  It was opened to the public in May 2011 and the whole area can be accessed via the single track Tar Road which runs for several miles from Witney to Stanton Harcourt.

A short drive along the wet and puddle bestrewn Tar Road, its sodden verges churned to mud by passing cars brought me to the car park at Rushy Common from where a short walk brings you to a gate that requires a key to open a padlock and access another short track to the hide, the same key serving to open the door to the hide. A necessary precaution to maintain the hide in good order and prevent misuse 

I should add at this point my visit was not without a specific purpose. A drake Long tailed Duck, a rare visitor to Oxfordshire, has recently been frequenting Rushy Common and the flooded disused gravel pits on the opposite side of the Tar Road. Long tailed Ducks are more normally to be found on the sea where large numbers congregate in winter on northern coasts of Scotland before moving to their breeding areas in the tundra and taiga  zones of the Arctic. Single birds do occur inland in Britain but this is exceptional, especially as far inland as Oxfordshire.The last bird recorded in the county was a summer plumaged male that spent a day on a disused gravel pit at nearby Cassington on the 14th of May 2021. 

This latest visitor had been discovered on the lake at Rushy Common during the afternoon of the 3rd of February and was seen by a few lucky observers who could get there in time but had gone by the next morning. Nothing more was seen of it until it showed up  in torrential rain on  the gravel pit complex opposite Rushy Common during the afternoon of Friday the 13th. After a fraught journey through heavy traffic and frantic diversions around flooded roads I made it to the car park at Rushy Common and in failing light and the inevitable downpour crossed the road and traversed a muddy slick of a permissive path to view it diving and feeding on a former gravel pit amongst a small flock of Tufted Ducks.It was touch and go but nevertheless a triumph of will to actually see it after such a difficult journey. and  to even record the moment with my camera. As you can see the quality of my photo left a lot to be desired. 

Valentines Day was predicted to be very cold and sunny and of course I returned first thing with high hopes the duck would still be there and, with better light I could improve on my photographic efforts. Almost inevitably there was no sign of it nor on the adjacent Rushy Common lake. Resignedly I went to look at displaying Goshawks instead, near my home, which almost made up for the disappointment.

Sunday the 15th February was again rainy and a birding group visiting the hide at Rushy Common mid morning re-found the Long tailed Duck amongst the hundreds of Shoveler, Wigeon and Teal on the lake.Where had it been in the meantime as this lake had been thoroughly checked yesterday  and there was no sign of it. Then it did its disappearing act again as disappointed birders advised there was no trace of it at Rushy Common by mid afternoon or on any of the other lakes nearby. 

This duck's regular disappearances has brought no little frustration to local birders, as unfailingy it can be found on one day but the next day is nowhere to be seen.I am sure it remains locally but there is so  much suitable habitat for it to choose from it can be impossible to find.

So today with the Long tailed Duck very much in mind I went looking for it. I checked as many of the former gravel pits as possible but with no success only finding the usual flocks of chirruping Teal and Tufted Ducks. Two Egyptian Geese scolding harshly flew up to perch in a dead tree.

My final throw of the birding dice was the bird hide at Rushy Common. Taking the track to the locked gate I was confronted with a path transformed to a stream which required wading through. 

The Tar Road on the other side of the hedge was also underwater as floodwater spilled in a torrent from the former gravel pit on the other side.

The Tar Road underwater seen from my car

Thankful to have remembered my wellingtons it required much care to get to the gate and then to the hide without the water spilling over the tops of my boots.Needless to say I was the only person visiting the hide, and gazing out  I checked and re-checked the many ducks out on the water.There was no sign of the Long tailed Duck but I put it to the back of my mind for a short while, enjoying the uplifting sight of so many ducks including a dozen splendid Northern Pintails, all looking resplendent in their finest plumage in the sunshine.The drake Shovelers were especially striking, their handsome colours diverting my gaze from their outlandishly huge, spatulate bill.

I devoted half an hour in the hide and then left to cautiously wade back to the padlocked gate. Once through the gate, rather than returning to the car park I crossed the flooded Tar Road to a gate on the opposite side of the road that opened onto Tar Lakes.

The first of the lakes was immediately on the left after passing though the gate and although it seemed a forlorn hope that maybe just maybe the Long tailed Duck might be on the lake I thought it worth a cursory look. No one to my knowledge had checked this lake recently but then why would they as with free access people take their dogs for walks here with resulting ongoing disturbance which causes most of the wildfowl to seek out the undisturbed Rushy Common on the opposite side of the Tar Road.

The left side of the lake looked almost impassable, the track submerged in deep water with just a thin strip of waterlogged grass by the thick hedge that screened the lake from the road. 

The left side of the lake.The normal path is deep under the water

The right side of the lake looked just about passable although much of the path that circumvented it was also under water but fortunately not above the height of my wellingtons

I scanned the lake expecting very little and it looked like my expectation was to be fulfilled. It was almost free of waterfowl apart from what I presumed were four or five Tufted Ducks at the far end. I watched as they dived but one of the ducks dived in a different manner to the others, using its wings to assist in propelling itself below the surface.Tufted Ducks never do this but Long tailed Ducks most certainly do employ this distinctive method of submerging. I have seen it many times when watching Long tailed Ducks in Scotland.

Could I really be sure of what I had seen or was it fanciful imagination? Only one way to find out and I told myself I was probably wrong but best to check. The ducks were very distant and so far had been viewed through my bins so I waited until they surfaced and got my scope trained on the far end of the lake to observe the ducks more clearly.  

For once the birding gods smiled on me for I had not imagined what I had seen. Joy of joys, one of the ducks now back on the surface  looked very white on its head and flanks, almost like a drake smew but larger with a brown patch on the side of its head and brown wings.This was no Tufted Duck but most definitely the elusive Long tailed Duck.

I stood savouring this minor triumph. Why not? Every serious birder gets to experience such a moment one or more times in their birding career.This was one of mine.

I wanted to get closer to get a photograph  if possible. Easier said than done as the water was already half way up my wellingtons and the waterlogged grass edge soon ran out  and I found myself gingerly edging along the left side of the lake in fairly deep floodwater, hard up by the hedge. The still distant ducks showed little concern assuming they had even noticed me. I tried to remain as close  to the hedge as possible to mask my profile and continued to move slowly towards them. At any moment it could go wrong and the birds fly off or the water spill over the top of my boots.

Eventually I could progress no further as the water was too deep, so stopped and tried for some record shots.The light on the water was very trying and with the duck constantly diving frustration levels began to rise but I did what I could. Eventually the duck ceased feeding and loafed around with its tufted friends which it seemed very attached to.Then followed a short bout of preening and wing flapping and once satisfied all was in order it tucked its bill into its back feathers and went to sleep. Not for long though, for as soon as the Tufted Ducks recommenced feeding so did the Long tailed Duck.

I returned to the gate and took the path to the right of the lake which would get me to the end of the lake unlike on the left side. Again much of the path was underwater but passable in my wellingtons. As before I hugged the hedgeline to conceal my approach and slowly I advanced until I was  almost opposite to where the ducks were diving on the far side.Still a bit distant for my camera and lens but there was nothing more I could do. A tall dense hedge behind me masked my profile and a willow growing at the edge of the lake was handy to hide behind.

This was it.The best I could do. It was now or never. Please let it be.The sun shone and the water was almost blue. The duck's white feathers glowed bright in the sun. I raised the camera and as I did a rain squall arrived turning the water grey and bringing increased misery in the form of strong gusts of bitter wind.I cursed my luck as at the very moment I had planned and worked so hard towards I was thwarted by the unpredictable elements. There was nothing I could do but wait it out.Thankfully the shower was over in minutes, the sun returned, the wind dropped and once more I pointed the camera in the direction of the Long tailed Duck. 

I waited with camera poised until the duck surfaced from a dive and took my photos. It was the same procedure each time; wait for the duck to submerge and when its distinctive white and brown body resurfaced take as many images as possible before it dived again. 

The wind remained troublesome, strong gusts buffeting me but thankfully the rain did not return. Many of the images were  disappointingly blurred as my camera,  lens and indeed me were at the limit of our capabilities but thankfully some images were acceptable.

I put the news out on Oxon Birding, assuming there would be some local birders who would want to come and see it but I saw no one in the hour I remained at Tar Lakes.

Instead a couple with a large dog arrived and threw a ball into the lake for the dog to retrieve but thankfully the ducks were distant enough not to be troubled by the splashing and barking. Dog and owners departed after a few minutes and I was on my own again.

It was now quite pleasant in the sun although the wind was annoyingly chilly and I entered an enjoyable period of reflection and self congratulation. Well wouldn't you?

Little else was on the lake. A Great White Egret stalked the edge of the flood before flying off over the trees. Formerly a great rarity they maintain a regular presence here now. A flotilla of Wigeon cruised aimlessly on the water, the drake's melodic wheeooo whistling accompanying their progress 

I walked, sorry waded, back around the lakeside to the gate and then through the flood on the road to my car. The whistling of Wigeon and chirruping of Teals still echoing in my ears.

A good day birding and pleasingly local for a change. 

I will sleep soundly tonight.