Farmoor Friday Walk 13th November 2020

As I am accustomed to do on most days I administered my dose of mindfulness, getting out and about in the natural world and taking a stroll round Farmoor Reservoir with my good friends Amanda, Dave and Phil. I find days like this are just as valuable and rewarding as dashing off to distant parts to see a rare bird. Each has its own benefit and merit but for the forseeable future Farmoor will suffice, not that one can contemplate the latter until this latest lockdown is over, even if one wanted to.

This morning the reservoir was proving popular with the general public as the early rain had gone and now there was plenty of sunshine but a brisk and chilly southwest wind ensured that warm clothing was a necessity. The Great Northern Diver was still in its favoured area of water off the eastern bank of Farmoor Two, the larger reservoir basin, but stoically remained at some distance from the bank and never looked like venturing closer.It was however good to see that it has suffered no ill effects from its entanglement in the fishing line of a pike fisherman. Something which surely should have been avoidable if the fisherman had been more diligent.

Amanda and Dave arrived and I joined them for a warming tea at the cafe and, as we sat, the regular trio of Little Grebes ventured out onto the open water in the tiny sheltered marina.They like it here as there are pontoons and small boats for them to hide around and when there is little disturbance they become bold and venture out to dive and fish in the shallow water. In their winter plumage they are various shades of unremarkable brown and can easily be overlooked being unexceptional and small. As autumn progresses into winter they have become more used to the large numbers of people passing by or stopping at the cafe and now seem almost fearless. Long may it last.

Today we took a different route on our stroll around the reservoir, heading along the less populated eastern bank of Farmoor Two and then along the southern bank where it was sheltered from the southwest wind. Coots, Tufted Ducks and Great crested Grebes were also taking advantage of the shelter as the water was calmer and allowed the grebes to tuck their bills into the side of their breast and drowse the morning away.There is something very soothing watching them all tucked up and snug as they float placidly on the water but always with one eye open, just in case.

We reached the western bank and dropped down from the reservoir, heading for the currently closed Shrike Meadow Hide, there to lean on a gate and watch a pair of Great Spotted Woodpeckers feeding on the last of the peanuts in a feeder hung from a lone alder tree that is part of Thames Water's tiny Shrike Meadow Reserve. Taking the path alongside the boundary hedge, Goldfinches and Chaffinches flew overhead as we came to the water pumping station by the Thames Path. A small bird zipped around in a huge willow, the tree now just bare branches and twigs, having finally been stripped of its last leaves by the wind and rain of recent days. Constantly active the bird stopped briefly to reveal itself as a Common Chiffchaff. It is getting a bit late for migrating so the the tiny warbler is probably going to spend the winter here as we saw possibly this same bird a few days ago in this general area. A little further on we stopped near another  alder tree and, after some prolonged scrutiny, found two Siskins feeding in the tree with half a dozen Goldfinches. It was far from an easy task to discern them as they were adept at using the bunched leaves and cones to hide themselves away.

Two Bullfinches duetted to each other, their plaintive piping keeping them in touch as they nibbled buds in a willow. We saw one, the male, resplendent in rose pink, black and grey but could not locate the other. We returned to the reservoir via the gate at the Pinkhill Reserve and two nervous Redwings fed on ivy berries with Blackbirds and a Song Thrush as we took the path back to the causeway. 

Looking up at a small hawthorn just behind us, to my amazement I found a male Common Kestrel had perched on a thin, red berried twig of the hawthorn. It was bold enough to sit there, very close to us and despite our wrapt and close attention, seemed more interested in something beyond us in the hedgerow. Finally it flew.

Back on the causeway the wind had increased markedly causing the Tufted Ducks to shelter in the lee of the causeway with their scarcer cousin, a female Greater Scaup, amongst their midst as it usually is.The scaup had attracted a few photographers who crouched on the causeway waiting for it to awake. As usual the scaup was fast asleep but finally deigned to raise its head briefly to reveal the diagnostic white blaze around the base of its bill.

Back at the cafe we sat, as we always do after our walk, with another coffee or tea but the wind was now fierce, blowing hard and strong into our faces and it was no time to tarry, so with goodbyes and a promise to meet next Wednesday, weather permitting, we left Farmoor for others to enjoy.. 

Farmoor Therapy 10th November 2020

Well who would have thought it? Farmoor Reservoir is working out to be my salvation, as it is for many others during this period of lockdown and this afternoon I made another visit to keep body and soul together. Currently there are two 'star' birds at Farmoor, possibly a third if you count a hybrid duck but remember we are talking about Farmoor Reservoir where any bird slightly out of the ordinary is a welcome sight .

Today, at least, I had the pleasant prospect of looking forward to renewing my acquaintance with the juvenile Great Northern Diver which arrived on the 3rd of this month and is still here, although only just, as a fisherman managed to hook it in its body and the unfortunate diver had to be landed in a keep net and the hook removed.The bird, calling and visibly distressed, was released back onto the reservoir and hopefully will be none the worse for its experience. We will have to wait and see.

Apart from the diver, the other main attraction is a female Greater Scaup that has returned to the reservoir in the company of the usual flock of Tufted Ducks now that, courtesy of the lockdown, there are no longer paddle boarders, windsurfers and yachts people commandeering the reservoir's water for most of the day. It is such a shame that part of at least one of the basins cannot be left for just the waterbirds.

A trio of Little Grebes came very close to the shore in the tiny marina that lies in front of the yacht club. Powder puffs of fluffed up feathers, they look so timid and vulnerable on the expansive waters of the reservoir but find sanctuary by staying close to the moored boats and pontoons in the marina where they can hide away and feel secure. Yet, at other times they seem unphased about venturing right out onto the open areas of the reservoir where there is no cover at all.

I walked a short distance up the central causeway and soon found the female scaup idling its time away, sleeping on the water with a small group of Tufted Ducks. I sat on the wall and waited to see if it would wake up and as I did, glanced over my shoulder to the southwest, fearful of what the weather might be bringing. There had been been frequent showers this morning interspersed with sunny spells but for now it looked like the showers had ceased although the sky remained decidedly wild.

After a few minutes the sun appeared and the dull grey light on the reservoir was transformed. This was my opportunity to get some decent images of the scaup, its white blaze now positively gleaming in the sunshine. I sat and enjoyed it for a good half an hour, watching it preening, rolling on its side, almost on its back at times, just like the diver had done a few days ago.

Taking advantage of the sun I checked the rest of the Tufted Duck flock and found the hybrid male Greater Scaup x Lesser Scaup and reprised my efforts of Sunday at getting an image of it. This time there was a huge difference from the misty gloom of Sunday, as the bright sunshine showed to good effect its bottle green head and vermiculated grey upperparts. I know it's a hybrid but it really is an attractive duck.

I returned to my car but had second thoughts about heading for home and, leaving the camera in the car, returned to the causeway, armed with my telescope, to survey the gull roost. Lesser Black backed Gulls and Black headed Gulls were predominant with a few Common Gulls and Yellow legged Gulls of various ages to add variety but it was a Caspian Gull that I was looking for.

An hour later I found one, a lovely first winter bird cruising around in isolation from the main throng of gulls and utterly distinctive.It's been a while since I have seen one so this added a nice final touch to the day.

Great Northern at Farmoor 8th November 2020

These days of lockdown mean that Farmoor Reservoir has become the place of choice for many people to come to exercise and relax.There are no muddy paths, there is a cafe and walking by water, however artificial it may be, is a therapeutic experience. Weekends find the normally sparsely occupied reservoir car park almost full with cars and the perimeter track and central causeway are host to unaccustomed numbers of visitors.

It was only one visitor in particular that was of interest to me however. A juvenile Great Northern Diver that had arrived on the 3rd November, first settling on the smaller basin in the morning but rapidly transferring to the larger basin on the other side of the central causeway. Great Northern Divers used to be regular and often long staying winter visitors to the reservoir up to four years ago (the last was in 2016) but none have been seen until now, so this one was well worth going to see. It would definitely prove popular with both birders and photographers.

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I made the short trip from my home to go to Farmoor and see it, on a classic late autumn day of complete stillness and bright sun. The diver was conveniently stationed off the east bank which is but a hundred metres from the car park, so for once it did not entail the usual slog to the far end of the causeway which is the norm here when a 'good bird' arrives. Not unexpectedly the diver maintained a respectable distance offshore due to the almost constant passing of people up and down the perimeter track, enjoying these few welcome days of sun and calm conditions.There was little point in trying to get any photos as the disturbance both on and off the water and the sun shining directly towards both the diver and myself precluded any chance of something even remotely satisfactory.

I decided to return this morning first thing for another go although the weather was not going to be anywhere as pleasant as yesterday. At just after 8am I entered the reservoir from its southern side and walked along the perimeter track towards the eastern side which is where the diver favoured. As I feared it was not a morning for photography.True the predicted rain failed to materialise but the whole reservoir and surrounding countryside was enveloped in a wraithe like mist, casting an unwelcome and depressing gloom on the reservoir and across its still waters.

I came to a gathering of Coot and Tufted Ducks, busily feeding close in to the bank.The Coot were diving for weed and the ducks for small freshwater mussels which they swallowed whole.Mindful of the female Scaup that was present a couple of days ago I checked the ducks but there was no sign of the scaup. However, in amongst the Tufted Ducks was an intriguing looking male duck that was similar in size to the tufteds but possessed a grey back and no tuft on its head. Superficially it looked like a Lesser Scaup which would be a great find but it was not. It was a hybrid, the progeny of a Greater Scaup and Lesser Scaup pairing and most likely the individual that has spent the last three winters (since 2017) on the reservoir.

When first found it was identified as a Lesser Scaup and news was put out to that effect on social media and the bird information services.This resulted in an unfortunate lady twitcher travelling all the way from Glasgow in Scotland, as she had never seen one, but when she arrived the duck had been re-identified as a hybrid!

Male Greater Scaup x Lesser Scaup hybrid

I took some images of the duck to check on when I got home, so as to be absolutely sure of the identification and watched for a brief spell as the ducks and coots continued to constantly dive then bob to the surface in a frenzied melee.There was no one else on the reservoir at this precise moment but I knew in a few minutes the fishermen, coming through the just opened main entrance gate in their cars, would be driving around the reservoir perimeter track to their favourite fishing points and I would no longer be alone.

I walked onwards, reaching the eastern side and soon found the diver, quite a long way offshore. It seemed dis-interested in doing anything other than floating, perfectly at ease, on the calm waters of the reservoir There was now nothing to do but wait and hope it might come closer, so I sat myself down on the low retaining wall to wait and see. It was a strange surreal atmosphere on the reservoir, with the mist obscuring to a greater degree the far bank and dampening any extraneous sound. The absence of any wind meant the water had become as if a giant glass mirror with every bird on it silhouetted in stark outline. I became almost contemplative as  I sat hunched on the wall and the diver floated on the water, half asleep with eyes almost closed, and not a sound to disturb either of us.You could hardly fail but join the diver in its reverie and a feeling of intense calm and peace descended on me.

Of course it could not last and slowly the reservoir became populated by more and more fishermen and the first intrepid joggers and walkers but compared to yesterday it was relatively quiet.  The diver continued to dreamily float on the water but eventually decided to commence diving and fishing. It confined itself to an approximate hundred metre stretch of water, casually submerging and then surfacing, often further out but on a couple of occasions it came nearer to me.

It obviously regarded this area as its own and any Cormorant or Great Crested Grebe that was deemed to have encroached too near was threatened by a lowering of its head to the water's surface while partially sinking its body in the water. It simultaneously would point its formidable bill and threatening profile at the intruder which was usually a sufficient deterrent but if not it would slide effortlessly below the water in a shallow dive and surface close to the intruder.

For the most part it was too distant and the light too dull for any worthwhile effort at photographing it so instead I sat and watched it diving and feeding and, whilst doing this, something I have not noticed before when watching these divers came to my notice. I could see that when the diver was preparing to dive not only would it sleek and compress its feathers so it became more streamlined but it would partially open its mandibles as if drawing a deep inward breath before its dive. I thought  that maybe it was just a freak one off but no, it was performed each time it prepared to dive.Time and again I have learnt that if you just sit and watch there is always something new to observe and learn. 

Eventually the diver ceased its leisurely feeding and resumed its loafing on the water but soon after commenced an extended period of preening, rolling on its side to expose its white belly, a long leg and huge flipper stuck incongruously out from its body at an angle. 

As it did this the sun permeated the gloom for a brief few minutes and the diver was illuminated like some star in a stage spotlight, the white on its belly shining in the weak sunlight.I seized the opportunity and got some images to go with the other more murky ones I had attempted earlier.

Juvenile Great Northerns show a distinct scalloping effect on their upperparts created by the
pale fringes to the feathers and also a dark half collar.This plumage will be moulted in the late
winter months of January or February

 

The diver continued to preen, rolling like some half capsized boat on the water, revolving on its own axis in the water as it attended to whatever feather was causing it irritation. I was joined by Tom and my good pal Badger who came to take some video which you can enjoy at the end of this blog. Mark too joined us. Like many  previous occasions  where a good bird arrives in Oxfordshire it became a pleasant social occasion as we all enjoyed watching the diver, chatting and catching up on each others news. 

It was now ten in the morning and more and more people were arriving to take advantage of the reservoir and it was getting uncomfortably busy. I went to the cafe to get a coffee for Badger and Earl Grey tea for myself which I suppose signified our time viewing the diver was coming to its natural conclusion.

I really hope the diver will grace the reservoir with its presence for an extended period as has been the case with many of its predecessors The four week period of lockdown  is a cause for optimism as it will at the least ensure that the increasingly busy reservoir, will for once be quietened and the diver will have its chosen stretch of water all to itself. It will be a pleasure to check on its progress each day it remains.

Postscript

Tuesday 10th November

Regrettably and in my opinion totally avoidably a fisherman contrived to hook the Great Northern Diver in the wing or body in the late afternoon. The unfortunate diver had to be hauled in exhausted and caught in a landing net. The hook was removed and the diver released back onto the reservoir in some distress.

Let us hope it survives and shows no ill effects. Tomorrow will reveal all.

Wednesday 11th November 

I am pleased to report the diver is still with us and shows no signs of harm.

Courtesy of Badger.

Brent Goose Memories 4th November 2020

For twenty five years I did a monthly WeBS (Wetland Bird Survey) count each year between the months of September and March at West Wittering, which forms part of Chichester Harbour in West Sussex. I commenced the counts when I lived in Sussex and carried on when I moved to Oxfordshire.

The time came when I knew it was right to hand over to someone else and I have never returned to West Wittering since I ceased the counts but with the impending lockdown on Thursday I decided to make just one more visit, partly out of curiosity but more out of sentimentality.

West Wittering saw me through some hard times and a period of great unhappiness. Counting the geese provided a welcome relief from my troubles, for one day a month at least, and I have looked upon the brent geese of West Wittering with affection ever since. In the latter years I did the counts with a great friend, John Reaney, a bird artist who lived in Brighton and who died just over a year ago and whose company I miss greatly to this day. My visit this Wednesday would be a journey of reminiscence, as if somehow being at West Wittering I could regain something, maybe just an echo, of that which is now forever lost.

West Wittering provides a winter home to a large gathering of Dark bellied  Brent Geese and any number from a thousand to two thousand can be found here in the winter, feeding in a scattered flock on grass fields especially kept for them to graze, so they do not encroach on surrounding farmland.Their presence and constant contralto growling as they communicate and bicker amongst themselves are part of the winter scene here and inevitably brought  memories flooding back.

Today was approaching perfection with little wind and a bright sun, the air cold and still after an overnight frost. I had arrived early, conscious of the dog walkers that from a birders point of view plague this place, although fortunately the geese are protected from major disturbance by a wire fence. Still, it is noticeable how the geese are relatively used to human presence and are untroubled by me stopping to look at them but become very alarmed at the sight of a dog however distant. The memories of the predatory Arctic Foxes that roam their breeding grounds each year are obviously not forgotten.

Brent Geese occur in four forms, three are recognised as subspecies and one (Grey bellied) still lacks subspecific status.The four are as follows:

Dark bellied Brent Goose Branta bernicla bernicla which breed in Siberia and winter in eastern and southern coastal areas of England.

Pale bellied Brent Goose Branta bernicla hrota which breed in Arctic Canada, Greenland, Svarlbard and Franz Joseph Land and winter mainly in Ireland and occasionally western coasts of England with another population wintering in Northumberland.

Black Brant Branta bernicla nigricans breeding in northern Canada, Alaska and northeast Siberia and usually wintering along the Pacific coast of North America.

Grey bellied Brent Goose breeding on Melville and Prince Patrick Islands in western Arctic Canada  and wintering on the Pacific coast of the USA

Sometimes the flock at West Wittering contained a pleasant surprise such as a Red breasted Goose in the winters of both 2007 and 2009. For many years I would always say to John 'Wouldn't it be nice if a Red breasted Goose turned up with the Brents?' but it never happened and it was only towards the end of my years of counting that I was finally rewarded and what a day that was. A Taiga Bean Goose was another great find during a count in a howling gale and rain, and Barnacle Geese turned up on a number of occasions but we could never be sure if they were wild or not. Individuals, in the form of the other two races of brent geese, Pale bellied Brent Goose and Black Brant would also occasionally appear, with the latter almost annual for some years and on one rare occasion arriving paired with a Dark bellied Brent Goose and bringing their hybrid young with them. 

Adult Red Breasted Goose at West Wittering - February 2009

Adult Pale bellied Brent Goose at West Wittering

 

 

 

Adult Black Brant at West Wittering 

Today as I scanned through the geese scattered across the short grass there was to be no such pleasant surprise but I found something just as unusual and the like of which I never saw during my twenty five years of counting here. It was a leucistic Dark bellied Brent Goose. Its pale plumage rendering it highly conspicuous amongst its darker companions. The normal black head, neck and breast were replaced with pale brown and the rest of the body a dull off white rather than grey.The bill was dark brown but the legs and feet were a paler orange brown. Someone on Twitter suggested such a goose be christened 'Cappucinno Goose' which I rather like.

The wintering population of Dark bellied Brent Geese in Chichester Harbour was re-established in 1952/53 and numbers, with protection,  have continued to rise steadily  although there are annual fluctuations thought to be based on a three year cycle of breeding. This is governed by the success or otherwise in raising young on their breeding grounds which is linked to the abundance of lemmings and the effect this has on prey selection by natural predators such as arctic foxes, skuas and owls.If there are plenty of lemmings the predators concentrate on them, if not then the goslings are a favourite substitute prey.

Colour ringing has shown that some individual geese, despite their long and hazardous migration can survive for over ten years and most are faithful to the same favourite fields each winter. Most birds remain paired in their winter quarters, both those without young and those with and one can often observe separate families bickering with each other if they come too close, with the gander rushing with neck extended and bill open through the water or across the grass. It is a common and often comical sight in the large gatherings at West Wittering.

Adult Dark bellied Brent Goose with juveniles which can be identified by the prominent pale bars across their wings.The presence of juveniles this year would indicate that the breeding season was a successful one.

But enough of the facts. The reason I was here was more than the sum of that. It was to take a sentimental journey, stimulated by the geese, to recall happy times with my friend John and the solace that his friendship and a still beautiful part of Sussex brought to me.

As the flock of geese swung high over me in the sky, to land on the sea and swim on the rising tide I found the happiness and contentment I sought and that was all that mattered.