A Dark breasted Barn Owl in the Fens 26th March 2025

One for the birding connoisseur had me planning a long car trip to Bourne in the Lincolnshire Fens as a  Dark breasted Barn Owl has been frequenting South Fen near Bourne since at least February possibly even earlier.

Barn Owls are the world's most widely distributed owl species and one of the world's most widespread birds being found in the form of various sub species on every continent apart from Antarctica.

Dark breasted Barn Owls are one of these sub species and are normally found in central and southern Europe.The fact that apart from being very attractive only thirteen have so far been recorded in Britain goes a long way to explain the interest being shown by British birders in this individual at Bourne 

It is very obliging in that it has been hunting from daybreak to around mid morning over the rough ground adjacent to the wonderfully named Bah Humbug Christmas Tree Farm, often close to the road that runs past the farm and straight as a die through the fen and thus, being highly visible has attracted many birders and photographers from far and wide to journey to see it.

I was a bit late joining the pilgrimage but made plans to travel to Bourne today as this was the only day I had free this week.

The rough ground where it was hunting around the farm  lies on one side of a long, narrow, dead straight  road that cuts through a flat and featureless landscape that is so typical of the county. The road unfortunately is a cut  through frequented by huge trucks passing to and fro and from previous reports it was clear I needed to park my car carefully at the side of the road to ensure I did not fall foul of the trucks that thunder past at regular intervals, often at a reckless speed.

The owl, flying as it was from daybreak, which is currently shortly after 5am. necessitated me leaving home at 2.30am to make the two and a half hour journey to Bourne, not something I relished but this is what was required if I wished to see the owl.I awoke bang on 2am. my body now so attuned to late night twitches that usually I awake just before my alarm goes off. I was on automatic pilot for a while as I dressed and got everything I needed into the car; bins, telescope, camera, gloves, jacket, counting everything off in case I had forgotten anything.

Satisfied all was in order I set the satnav for South Fen Road and took to the rural highways and byways of Oxfordshire in the dead of night, not encountering a single car for half an hour but on joining the main road north was soon dodging huge, brightly lit trucks also heading northwards..So the journey progressed, following the satnav's instructions as it took me on a tortuous route, cross country towards Lincolnshire. I only took a wrong turning once and by the time I was approaching Bourne the sky was visibly light, dawn had most definitely broken and birds were singing. 

I circumvented Bourne until I turned onto South Fen Road and viewed a long road that stretched far into the distance ahead of me.Passing through an industrial area of warehouses I came to the farm, beyond which lay vast, flat arable fields on each side of the road 

I was entirely on my own and the time was 5.30am. Unsure exactly where to park I could see where presumably birders vehicles had made tyre marks on the grass verge and settled for there. I got out of my car to get some air and stretch my legs after the long tedious journey. The outside  temperature was cold but bearable with not a breath of wind. .The land around me, lay dank and one could say desolate under low cloud and a faint mist that hung in the air making everything ill defined.Not great for photography and my spirits sank a little

To my left and right were plantations of conifers of various sizes so no mistaking if I was in the right spot. 

At least the farmer has a sense of humour!

I settled to await developments fretting about when and where the owl would appear. Another car arrived and stopped behind me. A fellow birder/photographer. We greeted each other and got chatting.He lived locally and told me he  had been many times to see the owl and that it would appear in the field of rough pasture beside our cars. I relaxed a little.

I sat in my car with my window open, hoping. The owl obliged and appeared at just after 6am flying past us, half way out across the field from left to right and carried on along the verge of the road and disappeared into the misty distance.It showed no signs of stopping to hunt and frankly I was greatly disappointed at the brief view I had of the owl although pleased to have at least seen it

My first impression of its plumage was how dark it appeared compared to our 'normal' white Barn Owl.There was little white to see on this owl. with its ginger biscuit orange coloured underparts and extensive grey feathering on its similarly ginger buff upperparts, more grey than buff in truth. A white face was made more prominent by the greater contrast with the dark buff feathers of its head

Any thought of photography was out of the question as the light was so poor and the mist seemed to have intensified. My birding friend said that thick fog had been predicted for here so we should think ourselves lucky.I chided myself for not being more diligent in checking the weather before setting off.Still here I was, so best to make the most of it.Apparently it was going to be sunny and warm from 10am onwards. Just when the owl usually retired to roost.

For half an hour there was no further sign of the owl despite both of us scanning far and wide with our bins.The first huge lorries began to pass us by, very close and frankly sometimes terrifyingly close on the narrow road, their huge bulk passing just feet away from us.

My birder friend assured me the owl would eventually return.

I was slumped in the car weary and a little down when he called out 

It's coming back!

Instantly energised I was out of the car in seconds and poised on the bank with my back to my car waiting for the owl to come into my view. It was coming straight towards us then turned from the roadside verge to follow a ditch running at right angles away from the road, skirted a ragged brambly hedge, then crossed the field at the far end. 

We did our best and got some passable but grainy photos.The 'noise' as they call it could be eradicated to a certain degree by using a remarkable application on my computer called Topaz. which can turn rubbish photos, not into masterpieces but good enough for this blog (I will let you judge)

The owl continued across the far side of the field to where it bordered a plantation of small to medium sized christmas trees and perched on the top of one

It remained there for the next forty five minutes, occasionally moving to another tree but never coming anywhere remotely within camera range. By now several other cars and their birder occupants had arrived.I felt the owl was just as fed up with the weather as were we and had all but given it up as a lost cause as far as a vole breakfast was concerned or maybe it did not relish flying in the damp, misty conditions and preferrred to sit and wait to pounce on something, anything.

Finally the owl flew and our hopes were raised in anticipation of it coming nearer but rather than return in our direction it flew parallel to the trees, towards the road and then over it and disappeared behind the farm buildings into a plantation on that side. It was gone and some speculated it had returned to roost deciding the conditions were too bad to hunt.

I thought this was wrong as I had not seen it catch anything and it must be hungry.Over an hour passed with nothing to see.Some birders left, either to go to work or convinced  the show was over for today.My birder friend was one of those but living locally he could return any day. I was wavering. I persuaded myself to give it another half hour, then another and so on.I stared morosely across the owl free fields.  The featureless, uninspiring landscape of Linconshire.possesses its own bitter sweet fascination and a unique atmosphere especially on a gloomy morning such as this.A benign desolation is how I would best describe it.

A Corn Bunting sang from the top of a wind battered bush far out in a field. His simple repetitive song of jangly thin notes no more than a trickle of sound in the dismal emptiness of land and sky.

Tiring of standing and chewing the fat with other birders I sat in the car and scrolled though messages on my phone to alleveate the boredom.Others could keep an eye out and would doubtless raise the alert if the owl showed up.

A shout eventually came from a large,vociferous gentleman scoping the fields

It's back, just crossed the road and is flying back into the plantation

These were the words I longed to hear but had almost given up on. The owl resumed a distant perch on a christmas tree but it was more restless this time and soon flew, seeming determined on hunting. 

It came reasonably close for a brief spell and I followed it in the camera as it approached an area of long grass, right by the road. It stalled and hovered and then pitched into the long grass but failed to catch its prey. Rising it flew to perch on a metal post but was there for only thirty seconds before taking off once more.

When it was perched I could clearly see how markedly darker and browner  it was. Its face looking toward me was off white with smudges of brown around its black eyes making it look like mascara had run. A totally different  looking bird to our normal Barn Owl and for me at least and probably most other birders present, a very attractive sight indeed.

The owl flew onwards and became more distant, checking further rough patches to the limit where they adjoined built up industrial areas.We followed its progress in our bins and telescopes but finally could find it no more.I hung on until just before ten which is usually the last time it is seen but there was to be no grand finale.

However I was more than happy with what I had achieved and at having seen this charismatic subspecies of the Barn  Owl.

A nice coffee in Bourne set me up for the journey home and I drove into the sunshine of a now beautiful day.

 

Yet more on the Hawfinches at Woodstock 24th March 2025

A male Hawfinch is a joy to behold but until today I had not been granted even a sniff of the male that has been consorting with four females in my favourite cemetery at Woodstock. Gareth my Hawfinch buddy has seen him at least twice and obtained some very nice images on two occasions but all I have ever seen are the females.

Please do not misundertsand me, any sighting of these secretive, enigmatic birds is to be celebrated but the females are much less colourful than the male which at this time of year is at his very best.

Today it was touch and go whether I made the effort to go to the cemetery.The weather predicted to be sunny was anything but, with grey clouds and a chill wind blowing from the northwest. You could describe it as raw. Still, the incentive of seeing Hawfinches was enough to get me up and out and a little later than usual I arrived at Woodstock around 7.30, parked in the normal place and walked the short distance down the road to the cemetery.

Thankfully where I stood placed the cold wind at my back while the promised sun was now just a forlorn hope.I stood for a very long time and saw absolutely no sign of a Hawfinch but I am used to this state of affairs and know that eventually I will see one or more. In fact there was little birdlife of any sort in the cemetery.The predictable Blackbirds and a few Goldfinches flew around but the seed had tempted very little apart from the occasional Greenfinch and Dunnock.

If you watch Hawfinches  you know that there will be long spells of utter boredom made bearable by the knowledge that sheer doggedness and persistence will bring an eventual reward.That is the way it is with Hawfinches

After half an hour I was joined by a photographer and we chatted amiably about this and that as the time slipped past with not a sign.Regularly I re-assured my colleague that the Hawfinches would show up but my attempts to raise both his spirits and indeed mine began to wear thin.

Eventually another photographer who had arrived un-noticed at the gate called to us that there were two Hawfinches perched at the top of a very tall yew near us. They were just about visible but more exciting for me was that one was the male that has proved so elusive. Photography of these two was pretty pointless but we nevertheless aimed our lenses in their direction.Well after all the waiting you somehow felt compelled.

My companion told me he would have to go as his wife had given him strict instructions that they were going shopping in Milton Keynes but just on the point of leaving a Hawfinch dropped to the ground.

There's one on the ground he whispered

Indeed there was and................

It's the male! I exlaimed excitedly and we took as many images as possible of this vision of loveliness What a joy it was to see his plumage of pastel colours; orange head. wide, dove grey neck boa, plumbeous pink underparts, chocolate brown back and white wing bars. His bill, ivory white in winter now turned a shiny, gun metal blue.In the company of a Greenfinch he hopped around examining the grass for hidden seeds and for a couple of minutes remained earthbound but then flew up into a yew.

We examined each others photos and congratulated ourselves on this last minute good fortune, then my friend departed and I was back to resuming my lone vigil.Despite feeling thoroughly chilled and decidedly uncomfortable in the miserable weather.there was no chance I was leaving with the male obviously still in the vicinity 

After half an hour I was regretting my decision to hang on, having seen nothing apart  from a female Hawfinch briefly on the ground and a couple flying between the yews and showing no interest in the seed whatsoever.

Then a Hawfinch flew low across the ancient gravestones, its white wing bars flashing and landed in the cherry tree below which the seed lay. The light was horrible, the bird was positioned in the open but silhouetted against a sullen grey sky and well, you get the picture. I did my best with the camera settings. Under normal circumstances with sunshine it would have made for a great image.Nevertheless I did what I could and felt the results were acceptable, all things considered.

I was hoping it would fly down but it had a change of mind and retreated to the yews, however it soon returned, perching half hidden in a tangle of twigs and branches in the cherry tree. 

For what seemed an eternity of exquisite tension he looked around, checking and re-checking the ground, forever wary. I willed him to come down and slowly he slipped from branch to twig, lower and ever lower towards the ground but just when I was getting ready to celebrate success he hesitated. So typical of a Hawfinch, their reclusive character forever making them ultra cautious.It would not have surprised me if he retreated but no, this time he dropped to the ground and then spent the next five minutes feeding on the seed that myself and Gareth have provided almost daily, while I exulted at finally having the opportunity to see and photograph this lovely bird.

An absolute delight, so much longed for and now finally come to fruition.

I could not ask for more but of course I will and doubtless will return to the cemetery.

Large Tortoiseshells in Kent 20th March 2025

I have always wanted to see a Large Tortoiseshell butterfly in Britain. Formerly abundant in Victorian times in the southern and midland regions of England they became extinct around fifty years ago and are now a scarce and unpredictable vagrant to southern coastal counties, so my dream was unlikely to be realised. I came close when a single specimen graced the RSPB's Pulborough Brooks Reserve in West Sussex from the 7th to at least the 10th of April 2015 but on the day I travelled to see it, failed to show itself. It was thought this individual was part of an influx of this species in the summer of 2014 and had hibernated to emerge in the Spring along with at least four others found in the southern half of England.

Large Tortoiseshells have a chequered history, with releases of captive bred butterflies confusing the undoubted occurrence of truly wild ones arriving from Europe where it is still relatively common. As our climate warms it is highly likely that this large butterfly will become a more frequent visitor and even recolonise as it is now thought to be breeding in Blean Woods in Kent and has bred at Portland Dorset in June 2020 and Sheringham, Norfolk in May 2021

This butterfly prefers open deciduous woodland preferably with lots of elm, goat willow and cherry trees where it can soar and glide along rides and glades and nectar on the flowers.

Reports of sightings of Large Tortoiseshell's have recently come from Orlestone Forest near Ashford in southern Kent. Louise who is part of a WhatsApp group I participate in photographed one near there eleven days ago on the warmest day of the year and gave me directions as to where to see it but then the weather intervened, turning very cold and my plan to travel to Kent  had to be put on hold

Today, the official first day of Spring was predicted to be unseasonably warm again with temperatures rising above the breakpoint of fifteeen degrees celsius when butterflies become active and take to the wing.I spoke to Peter, a colleague and fellow butterfly enthusiast about Louise's sighting and invited him to join  me as he too had never seen a Large Tortoiseshell in this country. We arranged to meet at his home at ten am. The butterflies  were only flying in the afternoon  so it would be pointless travelling earlier on the two and half hour journey to Kent

However I decided to make the best of this day and rose early to go and see the Hawfinches in my favourite cemetery in Woodstock for a couple of hours  and then go on to collect Peter and head south.

It was a joy to be out,.leaving the back door the merest whisper of a warm southerly wind blew in my face and there was no need even at this earliest of hours for winter clothing. The rising sun, a red orb  between the bare trees, was a fiery ball turning the horizon a delicate shade of rose pink that slowly faded to peach yellow.

Blackbirds sang and Woodpigeons crooned, half awake Pheasants stood hunched on drystone walls preparing for another day and Muntjac deer scurried across deserted narrow lanes, pre rush hour or what passes for it in rural Oxfordshire

The cemetery was already bathed in sunlight at 7am and taking up my usual position beside a box tree I waited. Hawfinches came and went but showed no interest in coming down to the seed.A group of three arrived  and two single birds flew in later, all to perch high in a bare tree and not inclined to come lower but fly into the yews to feed on the berries. One female finally came down to the ground for half a minute and that was it. I left to collect Peter, my day feeling somewhat flat due to this unsatisfatory conclusion

All was not lost however, as the sun was shining, the weather benign and the prospect of setting eyes on a Large Tortoiseshell for the first time ever, adequately countered any lingering feelings of disappointment

I collected Peter and we set off on the long journey to Kent. Louise had told me by text earlier this morning that no less than six Large Tortoiseshell's had been seen in Orlestone Forest yesterday and she gave me precise directions using the What Three Words app

The journey was, as motorway driving always is nowadays, both tedious and frustrating as a half hour standstill around Heathrow on the highway of hell that is the M25  saw the outside temperature reach a dizzying 20c.

After clearing this we had a trouble free run all the way to Orlestone Forest which lies six miles southwest of Ashford and is owned by Forestry England, a large part of its 413  hectares of mainly ancient broadleaved trees designated a nature reserve with open access to the public

On arrival we were a little unsure where exactly to go but entered a car park, that at noon was crammed with cars.Were these all butterfly enthusiasts? We asked an obvious butterfly fan who was departing for directions and he told us to follow the track into the woods and eventually we would come to a gathering of around thirty people, hoping to see a Large Tortoiseshell. The person we spoke to said he had not seen any but advised it was early as they usually appeared in mid afternoon.I did wonder why, knowing this, he had come so early and to be inevitably disappointed but diplomatically kept quiet.

We followed the track but dazed after the long drive took a wrong turn and wasted half an hour completing a large circle that brought us back to the car park..We  tried again and turned right at the fork in the track through the woods instead of left and soon found ourselves on an all weather ride that ran through sunlit but still leafless trees on either side for a considerable distance.

We saw a distant huddle of enthusiasts with two coming towards us, and then were confounded as the two suddenly about faced and headed back to the more distant group but then all turned and headed for us. This confused behaviour was eventually explained by the fact they had just seen a Large Tortoiseshell and it had flown in our direction and in fact over our heads at some height. The loud and enthusiastic group joined us and we renewed acquaintance with noted butterfly supremo Neil Hume as we all followed the direction in which the butterfly had gone and eventually came across the Large Tortoiseshell settled on the ride, a dark, insignificant triangle with its wings firmly closed to the sunlight. We adopted the grandmothers footsteps approach and soon were clustered around the object of our desire, including someone who had inexplicably brought two large dogs with him. Slowly, teasingly the butterfly deigned to partially open its wings and then fully, to reveal a gorgeous patterning of black squares and spots on tawny orange wings. What a beauty!

For almost a full five minutes it remained, alternately opening and closing its wings as both of us revelled in our first sighting of a Large Tortoiseshell in Britain. Someone got too close and it flew up and departed fast and further above the ride, followed by a few diehards but it did not settle again and was lost in the trees 

Time for a minor celebration Both myself and Peter had got another butterfly on our Britsh list and it was high fives between us.

That didn't take long Peter

No indeed

The nerd factor is never far away from butterfly afficionados and it duly announced its unwelcome presence as in the inevitable post mortem after the butterfly had flown some of our fellow enthusiasts said the butterfly was not pristine. It had a small nick out of its hindwings and was therefore unacceptable as a  photographic subject. Some are never satisfied. The nick out of the wings was so small as to be hardly noticeable so Peter and I duly celebrated regardless.

The pressure was now off and we relaxed, chatting and walking with Neil, following the ride through the wood and for some considerable distance to a lower level where it was distinctly warmer and more sheltered. This was the 'hot spot' for Large Tortoiseshell's and on arriving those already present lost no time in telling us what good views and photos they had recently managed while we were otherwise engaged at the other end of the ride

Assured that there would soon be more tortoiseshell action we stood in the not unpleasant company of the forest trees, below which the ground was illuminated with splashes of yellow Primroses on beds of dead leaves and delicate, white star flowers of Wood Anenomes, thousands of them carpeting whole areas of the forest green and white. Brimstone, Comma and Peacock butterflies flew amongst us too. What was there not to like about this place.

Even the current absence of the star turn was bearable as I stood in this wood, listened to the bird song and filled my eyes with the welcome sight of the first spring flowers.

Another Large Tortoiseshell was sighted and we gravitated towards it. Flying well above head height the question was where and when would it settle? It came to rest on a tree trunk but in partial sun and shade, so no chance of the ultimate photo here.Neil told me that they like to settle on tree trunks towards the end of the day to bask on the sun warmed bark

Another sighting followed. The butterfly again landed on the bark of a tree trunk, was in perfect condition but posed in entirely the wrong position facing down rather than up or across the trunk.You could almost feel everyone willing it to move but instead it flew off. Frustrated I had to remind myself that this was a butterfly I had longed to see for many years and now I had seen three so not to be greedy.

In flight Large Tortoiseshells appear quite robust.  Fast and powerful in flight, their broad wings allowed them to sail and cruise above the ride and through the trees at the edge of the ride. To me it was very reminiscent of  a Purple Emperor 's powerful flight.

Finally that moment came when one did exactly what everyone was waiting and wishing for as a female sailed around above us, tantalisingly searching for a spot to settle on and chose a sunbathed  tree trunk, perching there at a perfect head height. Initially she closed her wings and was in the wrong position but manouevered herself to an angle where she could make the most of the sun on her wings and there was the perfect shot. She was surrounded as slowly we moved closer to be literally feet away.

This was it. We all knew it.The chance to get an absolute winner of a photo. A trophy to take home.Something to look back on and relive the moment. It was now or never as the immaculate insect sat with wings open and flat against the grey bark.She remained for four minutes, and then like a prima donna she was gone, flying into the sunlight and impossible to follow.

Neil was ecstatic as indeed were the rest of us.No one had failed to get a good photo.

Naturally we wanted more and occasionally one showed itself but we knew there was not going to be a better opportunity than the one that so memorably had come and gone.

By three thirty shadows were creeping across the ride and through the trees. It was all over and we made our way back to the car park, finding one more Large Tortoiseshell perched distantly on a silver birch, absorbing the last rays of sun.

I consider we had seen at least four individuals today possibly more. Neil Hume reckoned there were at least twelve present in the two days he had spent here and apparently they have been in this wood, most probably breeding, for the last four years.

Two hours on the motorway in the rush hour didn't seem to matter after this experience.