Eagle over Ashdown 16th June 2014

I had almost, but not quite, got over missing out on seeing the immature Short toed Eagle that appeared in Dorset at the beginning of June whilst I was heading inexorably northwards with Terry and Andy for a week's birding in Scotland. On my return from Scotland the eagle was still being seen and reported at random intervals from some southern counties, namely Hampshire and Sussex but never for extended periods and certainly never so definite that a journey south was imperative. I dismissed it from my mind once again, reconciling myself to the fact that I had truly missed a very rare bird indeed as it was only the second ever to be recorded in the UK.

Recently vague rumours came of it being sighted at Ashdown Forest in East Sussex but nothing more substantive came of these. On Saturday the 14th of June I went to West Sussex to see the breeding pair of Black winged Stilts at the RSPB's Medmerry Reserve near Bracklesham. All was well and good and I saw the two adult stilts with their three newly hatched and incredibly cute young.

On Sunday I concerned myself with domestic duties and did not or to be honest forgot to look at the pager. In the late afternoon I looked at it. 

Mega Alert !!! Short toed Eagle. Ashdown Forest showing well. Present all afternoon perched in pine tree. 

Ouch! I could have kicked myself. All my Sussex colleagues had been to see it and here I was congratulating myself on finally having mowed the lawn.

Whilst watching yet another episode of Breaking Bad that evening I formed a plan. Originally I was meant to go to Wales in the early hours of Monday to join Terry, who was already camping on the Pembroke Coast and then we would go to Skomer on the first boat at 10am on Monday for a visit to the seabird colonies on Skomer. That would now have to be put on hold until Tuesday. Just as well as no boats go to Skomer on Monday, as we found out later! The eagle had last been seen in the late afternoon of Sunday, dropping into some pines. Now eagles are not the most active of birds and I surmised that if I got myself to the location where it had last been seen by tomorrow, early on the Monday morning,  I had a more than even chance of seeing it. Eagles are also comparatively late risers so this would not be a middle of the night foray but a reasonably late departure around 5am for the two hour drive to Ashdown Forest.

So it was on a mild, still and grey Monday morning I headed down the all too familiar M40, M25 and M23 Motorways, turning off at last into welcoming and comforting former haunts of mine that constitute part of East Sussex. The directions led me to Wych Cross and then to a car park in the forest called The Long Car Park. I arrived at 6.30am and already the large car park was unfeasibly full of cars for this time in the morning. Deserted, with not another birder to be seen the mute presence of so many cars bore witness to the fact that something was definitely going on. I knew the area reasonably well so I set off southwest down a long sandy track to  the distant trees where the eagle was last seen yesterday.

A pleasant walk down the track was accompanied by the twitterings of Linnets busying themselves in the gorse, the males always attentive to their mates, accompanying them everywhere they went. A pair of stonechats flicked their wings and called to their young from the tops of the gorse and the melancholy notes of a Woodlark came from afar over the heather and bracken. Another birder caught up with me and we walked onwards together down the track  neither of us too sure precisely where to go.

We walked on and found all the other birders at the end of the track ranged along the crest of a slight ridge which gave a panoramic view over yet more grass, heather and bracken to a row of conifer trees some 250m metres opposite us. I saw a friendly face, John O' Shaughnessy, another former Sussex birder who had driven down from Manchester that night. Other birders had used the opportunity to bring their dogs for a walk in the forest as well. Some young lads had come from the north east overnight and had arrived way too early at three in the morning and slept in the bracken!

Birders awaiting the eagle

John and myself chatted and resigned ourselves to a long wait until the eagle stirred itself. Previous sightings suggested nothing would happen until around 10am as the eagle would remain perched in the trees remaining invisible until it flew. 

It was still only 7am. We stood around listening to the sounds of the forest. Siskins flew over, a Goldcrest sang in the pines behind us and a Tree Pipit showered notes of silver across the heather.

The eagle was first located in the distant belt of  pines in the centre of the picture

My erstwhile companion who had accompanied me down the track stood next to us. Time slipped on. It was now around 7.45am. I yawned and he looked through his scope. 

What's that? I think that's it. It's the eagle, surely? Yes it is he said, with the result that complete panic swept among the semi comatose ranks of birders. Everyone was now wide awake and fully attentive. 

'Where are you looking? 

What tree? 

How far away is it? 

The questions came thick and fast, anxiety etched in the intonation. At first I could not see the eagle but then I looked harder and saw a pale blob sat low down on a branch jutting out from one of the dark trunks in a row of pines. 

I put the scope on it and indeed there was the Short toed Eagle which must have flown in and just perched un-noticed on the pine branch. Others who had wandered off, lacking patience, now came running back, anxiety and excitement showing on their faces and seeking directions as to where the bird was. It slowly quietened down as everyone located and watched the eagle.

The views in the scope were really good. The eagle was completely un-obscured, perched against a dark background and the first thing that struck me was how pale it was, almost white with some irregular brown streaking on the breast. It was facing us and just looking about, relaxed and untroubled. I noted its bare, dull yellow legs and yes, it was close enough to see its short toes. It looked up. A fierce eagle face, with huge golden yellow eyes framed in a big head with a ruff of white feathers. Its tail was grey underneath and square ended. A Carrion Crow arrived and started to hassle the eagle which remained unconcerned. Now you could get a size comparison and see just how large the eagle was compared to the crow.The crow continued its pestering and after about ten to fifteen minutes the eagle turned on its perch and flew back into the depths of the wood. Its upperwings were mainly greyish brown mottled with white. It was all over.The time was just about 8am

Now everyone wanted to see more.We knew where the eagle was so we would just wait. We waited and waited. Nothing. People again wandered off. Others joined us. Tense and edgy as they had not yet seen the eagle and had just missed out on the exceptional views we had. There was also no shortage of people willing to recount to these unfortunates just how good the views were!

There was, as the time passed, quite a crowd building up. Other Sussex friends joined me, John King, Simon, and Nick. The north wind was now feeling quite chilly through my inadequate clothing but I was going nowhere. A Green Woodpecker looped over the open ground before us. Just after 10am there came another exclamation. 

Its the eagle! 

And sure enough the eagle arose from the pines just where it had disappeared and flew along the top of the pines gaining height. It cleared the pines and slowly headed east, soaring and circling. I just watched it in the scope. Basically white underneath and grey/brown above. It slowly moved off getting ever more distant and being mobbed by a gull. It was heading in the direction of Gills Lap in another part of the forest. Apparently it did this yesterday, hunting for snakes at Gills Lap and then returning to where we were currently standing. 

The eagle disappeared behind the distant trees.

Most birders now headed back up the track to the car park intent on driving the short distance to Gills Lap to follow the  hunting eagle. I decided to remain where I was. I was tired and did not fancy a car chase after the eagle and anyway I had seen it well enough now on two occasions. It was a bit of a gamble to remain where I was but that's birding for you. I chatted to a couple of local birders who had been here yesterday and they told me that if the eagle followed the pattern of its behaviour of yesterday it would return about 1pm to land in the trees in which we initially saw it. 

It was now only 11am. I relaxed, lay back on the grass and went to sleep for half an hour. Much refreshed I chatted once more with my new found colleagues. At regular intervals the wonders of mobile phones allowed us to get reports of the eagle from Gills Lap. It was hunting constantly and as the time wore on had apparently eaten no less than three snakes. Then came the call we had been waiting for. The eagle was heading back our way. A few tense minutes and then it appeared really high up in the sky. I got it in the scope and just watched as it came ever nearer, still really high until it circled over the favoured trees and hovered with legs dangling. It circled again and slowly descended, circling once again until it came down in a steep direct descent, levelling out at tree top level and then disappearing into the pines. 

Note the bulging crop full of snakes. Tasty!

Short toed Eagle immature

In the scope I had noticed how full and bulging its crop was. It would be a long time until it moved again as it would just remain perched digesting its meal. It was time to go. It was a sensible decision as the eagle was not seen again until 1745, almost five hours later.
   

Black Hairstreaks 13th June 2014

Friday the thirteenth may be unlucky for some but not for me. A wondrous sunny morning had me up and about heading for the unglamorously named M40 Compensation Area, a strip of land between the edge of the Bernwood Forest and the M40 Motorway. This area is put by for butterfly conservation and the main attraction is the much sought after and rare Black Hairstreak although there are many other butterfly species also present to keep one interested

Large Skipper

Marbled White

Butterfly and flower rich ride between Blackthorn stands

Here the conditions seem just about perfect for Black Hairstreaks with large areas of mature Blackthorn forming sheltered and sunny rides with scattered Wild Privet mixed in for feeding and large mature Ash Trees in which to seek sanctuary.

The butterflies can be seen for a short three to four week period from early June and I usually find them nectaring on the Wild Privet flowers where they can be seen incredibly close, feeding on the white waxy flowers. Others can also be seen fluttering about high up in mature trees such as Ash, above the blackthorn and privet.

Ideal Black Hairstreak habitat with Wild Privet amongst the Blackthorn

To get to the area requires a long but not unpleasant walk through Bernwood Forest, the still of the woods becoming increasingly invaded by the noise of the ever busy Motorway as you get nearer to the compensation area. My favourite privet bush is literally yards from the hard shoulder of the Motorway separated by just a thin hedge but you somehow get used to the continuous noise of the onrushing traffic until it becomes an ever present but almost abstract background roar in your senses.

 Wild Privet - up to 15 Black Hairstreaks visited this over a 4 hour period

Today I spent over four hours here just watching the comings and goings of this rare and enigmatic butterfly. The sweet scent of the privet flowers permeates the air and slowly you are drawn into the private world of the Black Hairstreak which revolves around these flowers and the surrounding blackthorn. It is such a joy to see one suddenly drop from the trees above onto a privet flower and with mincing steps walk over the flowers, delicately and diligently probing every tiny flower for nectar with its proboscis  and then with a brief flutter move to another flower spike. Sometimes they remain for long periods and yet, on other occasions they remain but briefly before departing upwards to perch in the leaves of the trees above.

Spectacular Norfolk 7th June 2014

Arriving back from Scotland on Saturday I had little time to get my act together before making a middle of the night departure for Norfolk to catch up with the Spectacled Warbler that was making its home in the dunes near to Burnham Overy Staithe. I barely had two hours sleep before slipping quietly out of the house at just after midnight determined to get to Burnham by first light.

Three hours later I drew up in a tiny car park by the A149  North Norfolk coast road. Opposite was the entrance to the track that wound out across the saltmarshes for a couple of miles to the dunes by Gun Hill, the Spectacled Warbler's current home. At 3am it was already getting light but not enough to set off on the thirty minute walk to the dunes. I slept for forty five minutes and awoke to find the sky now glowing a soft peach above the distant dark outline of the dunes. A Blackbird was already singing and shortly afterwards a Common Whitethroat issued his cheery warble. Another car arrived with a couple of birders who set off immediately for the dunes.

There was really no need to hurry. Although daylight was rapidly approaching the light was still subdued. I calculated that the half hour walk would get me to the dunes by 4.30 at which time the light would be much better. I set off down the track, initially winding through hedgerows. Now all the birds were awake and very vocal, with many Skylarks already in the sky proclaiming their existence from on high. The sky in the east, over the still distant dunes, was now a deeper flame orange as the sun slowly rose. It was going to be a good day weather wise.

Leaving the hedgerows behind  I went up some steps and the track now traced its way along  an elevated bund with tidal marshes on one side  and marshy fields on the other. A cacophony of Sedge and Reed Warbler song came from both sides. Harsh in tone, you could hardly call their songs tuneful but they were extraordinarily loud in the stillness of early morning. I walked onwards coming to the boardwalk running up into the dunes. I was close now and I could see the two other birders walking west along the dunes.

In turn I followed them into the dunes some minutes later and could now hear the Spectacled Warbler singing. A thin warble similar in some respects to a Common Whitethroat but less throaty and weaker. I joined the two birders who were intent on photos, showing me some impressive lenses and cameras. We were now stood some metres in front of a large Wild Privet bush. The warbler was singing in the bush but invisible, seeming to be more to the other side of the bush. Giving the bush a wide berth I skirted round to the other side but still could not see the warbler. Frustratingly it sang on. Then it was suddenly visible popping out from cover and singing from an exposed perch before slipping back into the dense cover of the privet.

Spectacled Warbler singing from Wild Privet

My first priority was to see it which I ahd now accomplished but I also wanted to take some photos. The light was still too dull for that so I rejoined the other two and we stood and waited for the light to improve and the warbler to show itself again. We were entirely alone, presumably because most people had seen it in the previous week. Slowly the sun rose and now the warbler became more mobile moving from its song perch on one bush to a song perch on another. It became apparent it had two favourite bushes one each end of a swathe of low growing Salicornia below the dunes on which we were stood. I watched it constantly singing  and now seemingly emboldened it would perch prominently in the open. On a couple of occasions it danced up into the air as if in an ecstacy of emotion as it poured out  its song.

An 'ecstatic' Spectacled Warbler

It looked superficially similar to a Common Whitethroat but was smaller, slimmer and generally more petite. Its head was a shade darker grey with distinct black feathering around the bill and front of the eye. The white eye ring, hence the name 'spectacle', was incomplete but prominently white over the eye. Its wings were chestnut brown all over and the brownish pink breast contrasted with its pure white chin and throat as it sang in the morning sunshine. 

Now more people had joined us on the dunes and I could see a steady line of birders making the long walk out to the dunes

The warbler never remained for long in one spot, moving on after a bout of singing and now keeping more to the Salicornia, where although often invisible, it could be tracked by its constant singing. After a while it became apparent it was building a nest in a low patch of Salicornia, bringing thin pieces of straw and once a piece of sheep's wool, diving into the depths of its chosen bush, then re-emerging to give another burst of song before flying off to retrieve more nest material. At times it seemed to have conflicting priorities when trying to sing whilst holding nest material in its beak. The song always seemed to take priority and the nest material was discarded almost as an afterthought as it burst into song.

With sheep's wool nest material which it eventually dropped in favour of singing

I changed my position, moving fifty metres east and dropped down off the dune and stood by the Salicornia. Virtually everyone else remained on the top of the dunes looking down into the Salicornia.

I looked up. A harrier was flying towards me from the sea side of the dunes, coming in fairly high above the other birders. They did not notice it. I looked at it closely. It was definitely not a Marsh Harrier as it was small, slim and elegant. It was pale brown in the early morning sunlight. What was it? It must be a Montagu's Harrier. It banked and there was the white rump. A female Montys! I attracted everyone's  attention pointing to the Monty's passing over their heads. The harrier flew onwards and inland, gradually rising higher in the sky

So the morning wore on with the warbler singing, zipping through the Salicornia and continuing its nest building.

I had watched the warbler for two hours now and noted every so often it favoured one particular thorn bush half way up the dunes where it would sing from and which would be ideal for a photo as the sun would be behind me. My two photographer friends were of like mind and our patient positioning by this bush  bore fruit as the warbler gave us a couple of opportunities to get close up pictures of it singing.We were left alone as everyone else was concentrating on the other areas where the warbler was to be seen more frequently but every so often it would come to this particular bush and perch out in the open to sing for a minute or so. On arrival at the bush it would dive into the centre as if not too sure about its security but then slowly wend its way upwards to emerge onto the topmost bare twig and commence to announce its presence by singing loudly before diving down into the Salicornia below the dunes. 

By now there were a lot of people present and I could see a still steady procession of people coming out on the elevated track to see the warbler but everyone behaved themselves and did not get too close, although the warbler seemed quite oblivious to its many admirers. The sun was now warm but it was still only nine in the morning. I had been here five hours! It seemed to go very fast but why wouldn't it with a very rare bird such as this to look at? Only the eighth ever to be recorded in Britain and never before has one stayed this long.

Salicornia - home to the Spectacled Warbler with the dune ridge on the right

The Salicornia  bush (front centre) in which the Spectacled Warbler built a nest

Birders admiring the warbler. Don't think standing on the skyline helped though!

Tired but happy I finally gave it up and walked back to the car park passing a singing Sedge Warbler and later, two dapper Little Terns resting on a mudbank. Common Redshanks called constantly in alarm, living up to their old country name of 'warden of the marshes' whilst pairs of Shelduck flew over at regular intervals heading inland

The tiny  car park was now crammed with cars as was the narrow lane next to it. I vacated my space which was occupied immediately by another anxious group of birders. It was now a beautiful day and I headed west to Titchwell RSPB to do some general birding and just to relax.

A reviving cold drink from the cafe and then, following the main track out onto the reserve, I came to the Freshmarsh which was alive with birds. Two Spoonbill were, as ever, asleep at the back of the marsh and Avocets were everywhere. A large mixed flock of Black tailed and Bar tailed Godwits were resting in the middle and on closer inspection hid a Ruff and a few Knot. A Greenshank, almost silver in the harsh bright sunlight waded by some distant reeds and a Marsh Harrier flew over. 

Just standing minding my own business, enjoying the day and at that moment finding a Little Gull, it happened. A birder sidled up to me and asked if I had anything good in my scope. I told him about the Little Gull. 'Oh yes' he said, 'I saw it earlier. First summer bird'. We have all met this sort before. They are not remotely interested in what you have seen but want to tell you everything they have seen. By asking you what you have seen this gives them the opportunity they are seeking to engage you in a one sided conversation. Theirs. Any bird you mention they will have already seen it or something better. Its really annoying as it ruins the excitement of finding your own birds and generally just birding quietly to oneself.  To me its almost an invasion of one's privacy, like invading one's personal space. He was still reeling off everything on the reserve when I walked off. I did not look back.

Now where? Well first to Cley to get a reviving pasty, a coffee and walnut slice from the amazing but expensive delicatessen there. Cley is so very upmarket these days. Then onto Cley Spy at nearby Glanfield to get a new tripod strap. It's some time since I have been here and its variety of stock seems a lot less comprehensive than in former times which was a little disappointing.  

During the day I had, at the back of my mind, formulated a vague plan to try and see Swallowtail butterflies as it was a sunny day in June, I was in Norfolk with the whole afternoon before me and now would be the ideal time to do it. I asked the assistant at Cley Spy where was the best place to see Swallowtail butterflies and he suggested Hickling NWT near Norwich. I entered the details in the Satnav and forty minutes later was traversing the sunlit, narrow lanes leading to the well hidden reserve car park. I had no idea where to go from here so just followed the signposted trails out towards Hickling Broad. I had no conception of how extensive this lovely reserve was, containing as it did huge reed beds and with obviously new boardwalks and trails made through the reed beds.

Hickling NWT reed beds where I saw the Swallowtails

There were also a few scrapes for wading birds and a couple of hides overlooking them as well. I found Avocets and Lapwings breeding on the scrapes and another Marsh Harrier flew over my head harassed by a Common Tern. Huge numbers of dragonflies, mainly Black tailed Skimmers and Broad bodied Chasers were on the wing and a few unidentified hawkers and damselflies were also patrolling the many ditches and areas of water but I was here for one thing really, Swallowtails.

At first I found nothing but undeterred wandered onwards towards the Broad. Turning on the path by the Broad I came to an area of reeds on my right. A flicker of movement, almost imperceptible but then it was gone. The flicker returned and flew fast and low with fluttering wing beats and short powerful glides over the top of the reeds. My first ever British Swallowtail! 

A unique sub species of its continental cousins and found nowhere else but in Norfolk. Big, bold and looking more yellow than I assumed and surprisingly fast in flight, it was hard to follow  amongst the similar coloured swaying reed tops. I moved  further on and found another area with a loop of boardwalk specially cut into the reeds. Here I remained for a good hour and a half as many Swallowtails, always singly,  came flying across the reeds, some stopping to feed on the scattered Yellow Iris and an unidentified pink flower growing in the reeds. It was difficult to get a good photo as the butterflies were always obscured by the swaying grasses and reeds but somehow it did not matter. It was such a pleasure to see them. Another long time desire fulfilled and a quite magical time with the wind caressing the reeds whose leaves, brittle and hard, rubbed against each other creating a soothing susurrus of sighs and sounds, infinitely restful, and all the time a regular procession of Swallowtails flew from all points to briefly feed on the iris before hurrying onwards to distant  and inaccessible parts of the reed beds

Swallowtails

Such a delightful afternoon interlude, restful and uplifting after the tensions of my early morning tryst with the Spectacled Warbler