tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88224314316485654012024-02-02T13:18:12.255-08:00The Early Worm...catches the bird.Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.comBlogger205125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-12758197251696333992017-09-24T04:53:00.000-07:002017-09-24T04:53:48.836-07:00Sharing the Urban JungleHuman beings are without a doubt the most destructive of earth's many million species. We pride ourselves on our opportunism, our intellect and our ability to succeed over any other species. The progress of human 'civilisation' has relied on it. Yet hidden among these traits is one which has caused us to inflict great damage upon the world we live in - through the destruction of habitat and the extinction of large quantities of the natural world - negligence. Human venture and comfort comes first, with hardly an afterthought for what affect it may leave upon the environment. As a species, we've thrived, and our cavalier behaviour must take at least some credit for it. But it is traits like these that we (we the human race, not necessarily you, me or the guy over there) seem to find deplorable when illustrated in far less damaging ways by any other life form. It was estimated in 2005 that the current rate of deforestation was a slowly decreasing 13 million hectares per year. I imagine an animal or two may be displaced (not to mention displeased) by that, it's not like we offer much of a re-homing scheme. And still, were a fox to so much as sniff a bin bag in certain areas London, it would find itself on the front cover of the Daily Mail, where, after much hyperbole and hysteria at the nuisance caused, an exterminator would find themselves slightly heavier of pocket.<br />
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Having lived my life in towns and cities I have seen first hand the behavioural adaptations species have had to make to survive in this, the 'urban jungle'. Through the destruction of natural habitat as we make way for the ever-expanding human population, we have left some animals with nowhere to turn except to our megalopoli. Yet so detached have we become from the natural world that many seem intolerant of these species. Those that, like us, are chancers, opportunists that take advantage of the possibilities in front of them. What to us may be trash, to some species is a livelihood. They thrive off the laziness and waste of humans, making a utopia of this seemingly barren habitat. In doing so, they may cause minor disruptions in our lives: a torn bin, a stolen chip... but surely that's a small price to pay when one considers what we have taken from them.<br />
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National statistics for the UK, as far as they can be trusted, estimate that the Herring Gull population has declined 50% since the nineties. However, in urban seaside areas, among the heaving herds of tourists, the species thrives. Ice-creams, chips, coffee cups... the diet available to them is vast and never in short supply. I have lived part-time in Brighton for seven years, and so Herring Gull are part of everyday life for me. Their boldness is incredible, but it has caused them to be seen in the eyes of many, as pests. I've heard rumour that the ruckus they raise is also quite unbearable.<br />
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One evening earlier this year, I photographed a group of three gulls who were midway through a game of tug-of-war with a bundle of bin bags. Unsurprisingly, thin, cheap plastic gave way to the gulls' sharp beaks and the wonderful bounty of wrappers and spoilt food spilt forth. From it the gulls retrieved such rewards as an entire pitta bread, leftover salad and, alas some golden foil. To us, this was trash, but to the gulls it was dinner. Our wasteful behaviour has created a niche, an abundant food supply, and nature isn't about to let that go to waste. This opportunistic behaviour, to take what's needed and leave a mess behind is moderately reminiscent of another species.... and yet, it caused names such as 'vermin' to be thrown their way by passers-by. <br />
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Referring once again to statistics of doubtful validity (well they're not from the Daily Mail so they can't be <i>that</i> bad) it is estimated that per annum 7.3million tonnes of household food is thrown away in the UK alone. A staggering, disturbing figure for such a small country. To have rubbish strewn across the street is in no way pleasant, but I think burdening the blame upon gulls, foxes and whoever else may go through your trash, is a way of avoiding responsibility. It's not your broken phones and newspapers they're after, it's that 7.3million tonnes of food. These '<i>vermin</i>' have discovered a niche caused by us and are exploiting it.... and can you blame them? The phrase, 'Waste not, want not' comes to mind.<br />
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Personally, I find it quite unfortunate that these species eat trash. For the most part it's a better outcome than the food going to waste, but the amount of non biodegradable material I've seen Herring Gulls eat is quite horrifying. Eliminating food waste completely is undoubtedly impossible - we're not going to become impervious to mould overnight - but there are most certainly steps which could be taken to significantly reduce the figures. I think we'd all like cleaner streets and slightly less plastic-filled gulls.<br />
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Like a stubborn toddler, it seems most metropolitans aren't keen to share their <strike>dirty</strike> delightful streets with anything more than humans and smartphones. With the population becoming more and more disconnected with nature, it is saddening to think that for some, their only remaining connection is their love to complain about it and the <i>oh so</i> <i>huge</i> nuisance it is for them. Having wiped out as much of the natural world as we have, should we not strive to live harmoniously with those that have adapted to this new habitat we've created, not shun them away?<br />
<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-36745321732944098332017-04-08T11:42:00.000-07:002017-04-08T15:04:13.450-07:00In Which There is a Lack of Both Sleep and Blue Rock ThrushesDo you ever find yourself by some stroke of bad luck (or judgement) involved in a team project, the workload of which ends up sitting solely, and uncomfortably, upon your shoulders? Whether the project is personal, professional or projectile, being the provider of 100% of the effort input can be a strenuous position to hold. There is at least the benefit of then being in the position to validate having a good complain (as well all secretly love to do*), but that is but a small reward. <br />
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It is beginning to dawn on me, like a summer sunrise; gradually at first yet with increasing speed, that I have been stuck in such a situation with birding. My <a href="http://earlywormbirder.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/what-am-i.html" target="_blank">relationship (as it were) with birding</a> has for a while been strained; when a rare occasion arises, and presents me with the opportunity to go birding, it seems that for all the work I put in - travelling, wandering around, more travelling - and all that I suffer - travel sickness, strain upon my decrepit old eyes, cold, hunger, more travel sickness - that birding does not in turn do its part. Like that one colleague whose phone is seemingly more important than the task at hand, the input from the 'birding gods' seems at best, half-hearted.<br />
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Over the last 6 months my life has become drastically more <i>busy</i>, what with full-time education, part-time employment and adding the weekly wear upon my camera's shutter-count. This being so, the occasions where have I actually <i>have</i> gone birding are probably few enough to count on... I'd like to say two hands, but I feel that would be an exaggeration... so, one hand it is... and that can most probably be done without including the thumb. A sad state of affairs yes, but it does mean that the crushing disappointment of dipping can be replaced by the subtler disappointment of not finding a Wheatear on the patch for yet another consecutive year.</div>
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This week however, with Easter break now in effect, the amount of free time available for me has increased rather drastically, leading me at times with nothing better to do than lounge in the sun and read... ah, 'tis a hard life. </div>
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When news broke of a Blue Rock Thrush in the county I thought perhaps an expedition away from the warmth of the balcony could well be in order. An egg (of metaphorical reality, of course) was laid, and from it hatched the birding bug. And, like a vivacious mosquito on a summer night, the birding bug bit. And the bite? The bite didn't produce an 'itch' as such, more a calling. A calling that swayed my mind into believing that it was semi-acceptable to get up at 5:40am during Easter break. Fun fact: it's not.</div>
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Thanks to the generosity of a local birder who was willing to give me a lift, I was saved from the multitude of horrors that constitute the public transport system - were I a sardine, I would rather be in the sea than packed in a tin. Thankfully, I'm not a sardine, and so, don't have to be in either; but buses and tins can have a worrying amount in common.</div>
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The thrush had been seen for most of the previous day and was still present at dusk, so our hopes of it remaining were quite high.... a little tip for birding: never, <i style="font-weight: bold;">never</i> get your hopes up.</div>
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As we drove to the site we were greeted with a spectacular sunrise over the Sussex countryside. A spectacular sight, and one which was most probably as interesting as the day got, for, despite an hour or so of eye-straining, no blue thrushes of any kind materialised. </div>
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After the hour or so had elapsed, other engagements called, which for me constituted little more than gaining some extra sleep. It was decided, upon departure, that the bird had most probably, nay, certainly been plastic (as in not wild, rather than literally plastic. That being said, I didn't see any videos of it so you never know) and good riddance to it... No, I'm not a sore loser. Okay, well, maybe just a little bit, but I had only got 5 hours sleep. The hours of sleep one has in a night is yet another thing that should not be countable on just one hand.</div>
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It was at least an experience, a break from the norm, and that is something which in most cases should be strived for, even if it doesn't go exactly as you had hoped. Next time birding, you better play your part, otherwise I might just become a patch-birder for good....</div>
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*See, a good complain, now wasn't that fun?</div>
Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-14964757647701155022017-02-17T04:08:00.000-08:002017-02-17T04:08:11.469-08:00Of Marmite, Metaphors and MathematicsMarmite. Aside being a yeasty condiment, it is also a frequently used and un-yeasty metaphor. It is claimed that one either loves Marmite, or one hates it. This is unfortunately an inaccurate claim, as some people, myself included, do not go in with such strong feelings for the spread. It's alright in small quantities. Peanut butter is the only condiment worth getting emotional for.<br />
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The metaphor however is a useful one for expressing two opposites, and so will be used here, slightly adjusted from the classic and, perhaps overused, love-hate meaning. Here it will express a good-bad equation. With that still hopefully fresh in your mind, I will use this adjusted analogy to describe the birding (see, birds <i>are</i> involved, this isn't one of those food blogs. Yet) encompassed during my annual February excursion to the green ol' land of Ireland. Some years are good, perhaps even encroaching into peanut butter territory, and then some, some are like a tablespoon of Marmite forced down your throat - which hopefully you'll agree is not <i>quite</i> a favourable occurrence. One year it may ooze with rarities, the next birds may be spread thin.<br />
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The first of these winter birding visits was in 2014. That was a good year, as should any year be when it contains both Ross's Gull and King Eider. After that things began to... well, undulate. 2015 was unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable - this being said, for context, through gritted teeth. If yet further enlightenment is required, let me add that this was <i>not</i> the happy kind of unbelievable. It was one unfortunate failure after another and I consider it quite surprising that the events of this trip did not make it into a novel by Lemony Snicket. I guess there's only so much bad luck that can be believable. This trip led me to expect failure when birding (an adaptation that oh so rarely leads to disappointment), dipping 2 megas and 3 rarities in one week has that kind of an effect.<br />
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Come 2016 the fates had once again reversed, and like an articulated lorry, it made its reversal known. It was a week of seemingly non-stop luck in which, if memory serves (which would be as rare an occurrence as some of the birds seen) dipping played no part. To the world once again, balance was restored.<br />
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The problem with balance is that the load has to be shared equally, you can't have too much on one side of the scale or the balance will tip. One was good, one was so bad that hyperbole would have to stretch to touch it with the tips of its fingers, and one was the <a href="http://earlywormbirder.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/the-united-states-of-ireland.html" target="_blank">American Dream.</a> Mathematically speaking (and who would dare argue with maths?), the law dictated that this year's visit would not be warranting a double thumbs up and a cheesy grin. At least, not where birding was concerned. And.... voila, bang on the money, 2 รท 2 = 1st prize (see, I'm smart, me) awarded to Mathematics. As if I needed another reason to dislike maths.<br />
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Sure, there wasn't all too much birding done, but when we did go twitching we employed my method to top form and managed to dip rather successfully. Multiple circuits of an industrial site and its surrounding area on Little Island, Cork, led to a great deal of excitement when we finally found a tree containing berries. We were looking for Waxwing and saw a total of 0 out of 36.<br />
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To follow up this expected <i>great</i> start, we went on to sit by the side of a river for an hour or two. Not one of those small pleasant rivers, but one which resembled the Thames: if it had had its face washed and scrubbed by a doting - if rather un-thorough - parent. Here, we saw a large quantity of gulls, most of which I'm sure consisted of many a (often hollow) boney part, but none of which, unfortunately, consisted of the right anatomic build to be a Bonaparte's Gull. This desired build being almost identical to that of a Black-headed Gull, the difference being that someone once claimed that supposedly, there <i>is</i> a difference.<br />
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Although the birding of the trip was not altogether a huge success (I do hope this is the deduction that you came to too), it's good to know that <a href="http://earlywormbirder.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/what-am-i.html" target="_blank">I can still dip</a>. Where photography was concerned however, which was in most places, it wasn't all too poor, with moderately in focus images being achieved of Rock Pipits, Pied Wagtails, Rooks and Robins.<br />
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If there's one thing you can say for maths, it is that it is, - like every rom-com ever made - predictable. Patterns will repeat. And so, it stands to logical reasoning that next years pilgrimage should contain enough traces of luck to bear an allergy warning. Or else it will end up like a rusty seesaw with a single occupant a spoon, and a jar of Marmite. I guess we'll have to wait and see.<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-35332587320234789552017-01-24T12:28:00.000-08:002017-01-24T12:28:47.871-08:00What Am I?What am I? Besides, arguably, from being human that is. Back in the good old days almost the single most important thing to me, was that I was <i>not</i> a twitcher. I was very adamant about that. What could be worse than being called a <i>twitcher?</i> The shame of it. Many a blog-post was written to ensure everyone knew that I was just a <strike>twitcher</strike> birder. Soon though, the evidence built up against me... I couldn't pretend that I'd just ended up at Kinsale by accident and that the Ross's Gull found there was just a happy coincidence. Nor could I claim the several hour detour to Aberdeen when I was in Scotland was for the scenery and not for the Harlequin Duck. It was around this point I decided not to mention my stance on the matter anymore. While I still had <i>some</i> face left to save...<br />
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From then on I was an all-encompassing birder. A couple of days a week I was a patcher, a couple of times a month I was a birder, and here and there I was a twitcher. It was a happy and prosperous time. But then, (If you had deduced the coming of a 'but', please allow yourself a pat on the back, be it from yourself or a third party) I ran out of that all important thing - Luck. There came a time when I would have loved to take the title of twitcher. If only! I became a, oh my this is difficult to say. I became a... a... a <i>dipper</i>. And a good one at that. Now, if you're thinking, oh, that's not so bad, a small black and white bird that lives along streams, then you have lost all pat-on-the-back privileges which may previously have been earned. Alas, no, I mean dipper in the sense of a birder (okay, twitcher) who, having travelled to look for a bird, has failed in their quest. Long journey no birdie. It was a difficult time. There is a frequently used expression, rock-bottom, which depicts the furthest someone can fall. In the February of 2015 I went at rock-bottom with a pneumatic drill, when in the space of about a week, I dipped two mega's and 3 rarities. At the ripe old age of fifteen I was a washed up birder, it was just about time to retire.<br />
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I settled down soon after, to become more of a patch-birder and occasional local twitcher, and things were good you know, every once in a while I even got to see a Meadow Pipit (insert sarcastic 'wow'). And thus, really, it has remained since. But now, now I face a new conundrum. Can I even call myself a patch-birder? Sure, I visit my local patch usually 3-4 times a week, and when something unusual turns up, I notice it. But do I ever go over there with a pair of binos? Do I ever keep a list of what I see in a day, a month, or even a year? To both those birder-ly things, the answer is no. Not anymore.<br />
Now, when I head to the patch it is to take photos of the birds... and... increasingly, the mammals. Hey, don't judge, mammals are about as good as avians... I mean come on, foxes are too awesome not to photograph.<br />
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Throughout my whole birding 'career' wildlife photography has always played a big part, a part which ran alongside and worked in conjunction with the birding. But now it is starting to take the reins for itself (figuratively, I'm too scared of horses for it to be literal). I'm not saying this is a bad thing, far from it, there's very, very little I enjoy more than wildlife photography. Yet still... after all this time, all the places I've gone, all the things I've seen... have I lost the title of 'birder'?<br />
Must I change the name of this blog to read 'The Early Worm Wildlife Photographer' and suffer the wrath of misled non-arthropod-invertebrate fanatics? I'm not sure anyone would deserve to be placed in such a situation as that. Although I doubt it would be too hard to worm one's way out of...<br />
Birder, Patcher or Photographer... what do you think?<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-7601491370981191462017-01-15T05:52:00.001-08:002017-01-15T06:35:05.723-08:00Farewell Valentino<div>
Tradition. It's a well known phenomenon. Whether it's reading a book for half-an-hour before bed every night or eating a peanut butter and cheese sandwich every Wednesday at 14:43, everyone has their little habits and routines. It's a condition even animals buy in to. Some people will choose to spend their summers in France each year, and some birds, who have the ability to go almost anywhere, will choose to spend their winters in a London park. Anyone who has these sorts of regular rituals will know that they can be hard to stop. Once it's become ingrained it's almost second nature. And really, if you've got something good going, why would you want to stop? </div>
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Now, let me ask you this: Is Valentines Park not a good place to spend your winters? Okay, wait... maybe let's not answer that one... But surely, a sixteen year long tradition of doing so would be hard to break. By that point it's practically ancient lore, and you can't break ancient lore - there's probably a law against it. But the routine has been broken. And alas, it is for these very reasons that I have passed through hope and denial, and been led to fear the worst for our good friend Valentino. Yes, Valentino the Mediterranean Gull; Ilford's biggest celebrity and only interesting bird. After sixteen consecutive winters, he has not returned.</div>
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Cue the sad piano solo.</div>
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In previous years he would usually arrive in early October, with his latest turn up being on the 26th of that month. But October has passed. As has November, as has December, and still no Valentino. </div>
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Maybe, just maybe, he's still out there. Somewhere. Perhaps after sixteen winters on the Boating Lake he was beginning to feel like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I imagine the thrill of grey weather and mouldy bread wears off after a while. After 80 or so months.... it may become dull and just a little bit repetitive. An endless cycle of competing for scraps which is interspersed only occasionally by some bozo with a telephoto lens.... living the dream? Perhaps not.<br />
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Has he passed on or has he just broken tradition? Which, well I guess we will never know for sure. Perhaps he's decided to settle down in his home country of Belgium - I hear they produce some rather delicious cocoa based confectionery. Maybe Brexit was the final straw....<br />
Wherever he may be, whatever he may be doing, let us just take a moment of silence to appreciate just how awesome a gull Valentino was - except when he betrayed us for Wanstead Flats... that wasn't cool. You and your lovely white wings will be missed in the park.<br />
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Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-26068494504940144922016-12-30T11:04:00.000-08:002016-12-30T11:04:09.467-08:00A Brief History of Cameras, and Thoughts on the 5D MKivWay back in the good ol' days, when I was but a bairn of thirteen, I splashed out my savings and became the proud owner of a Canon EOS 7D. Ahh, the trusty 7D: that camera served me well for the best part of three years (very well actually, considering the affairs set in place by a certain image of a crow this year). That camera saw me through thick and thin. Together we saw mega rarities, pigeons, whales, ridiculously friendly Grey Phalaropes, and most likely more pigeons.<br />
Then, during the February of this year, after months of struggle and turmoil, I finally came to a decision. A decision which once again lost me the trust of a good friend... my poor old savings... they just didn't see it coming. It was, alas, time to say goodbye to the 7D (this is getting pretty emotional, I know) and welcome a new member to the family: the Canon EOS 5D Mark 3 Okay, I'll be honest with you, it was hard to be too sentimental about the 7D when you're now the owner of a 5D3.<br />
What an incredible camera it was. All of a sudden my images were consistently much sharper, the colours were oh so much richer,<i> and</i>, I could shoot above ISO 800 without being (just slightly) terrified of my images ending up like a rock concert... noisy.<br />
It was a big investment for me, and one I was happy with. I didn't think I would need, or (more surprisingly) even <i>want</i> to upgrade again for at least several years.<br />
Fast forward eight months and umm... well I'm not shooting on the 5D3 anymore. Through a fortuitous chain of events (once again involving that aforementioned crow) and with big thanks to Canon, I became the proud, yet considerably gobsmacked owner or the brand new Canon EOS 5D Mark 4. I have already described the Mark 3 as being an incredible camera... and as such it's rather hard to find enough hyperbole to aptly capture the Mark 4's awesomeness.<br />
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I've now been shooting with the Mark 4 for two months, and week by week it still never fails to impress me. I have read several posts on the World Wide <strike>Waste</strike> Web, which proffer to opine that there is only marginal improvement over the previous generation (the Mark 3), but, well, I honestly just could not agree. Perhaps in a set up, studio test shot between the two, the difference would not be all that noticeable, but in the field, where it counts, it is noticeable. And, really, that's what matters.<br />
I don't claim to be an expert in the technological functions and systems of cameras, but I would like to think I am not completely ignorant as to how to use one. As such, here are my thoughts, after two months of hands on use of this camera.<br />
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Let's begin with the auto-focus and image quality.<br />
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Now, as to focus speed, I believe that that is largely the same between both the Mark 3 and 4 (the extra fame per second is nice though), the speed is more largely affected by the lens used than the focus system. As to accuracy however, the Mark 4 steps ahead, as it provides incredibly sharp images with more consistency than the 3... with whom's sharpness I never really had an issue. The new system provides incredibly fine detail in both good light, and, more impressively, it retains that level of detail when shooting in low light conditions.<br />
Between the two generations, there's an eight megapixel difference. Of course, this doesn't hugely effect you, unless you need to blow the images up for large scale printing, but it is nice to be able to crop in a considerable way and still retain some file size. Your computer might have a different opinion on this increased file size however...<br />
Below are two images of a Grey Wagtail, one shows the original size, and one shows the quality that retains from a crop. Can you tell which is which?<br />
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Recently, I've spent a lot of time working on photographing foxes. Thankfully, in the park, they're not nocturnal (that would make things a little more difficult), they don't however, often come out before dusk. Now here is where, for me, the Mark 4 really comes into its own. With the 7D, photographing in these conditions with an f/5.6 lens would have been more impossible than any of Tom Cruise's missions... provided you wanted the images sharp that is. With the 5D3, it was very possible, but on occasion the images would end up being perhaps slightly noisy as the ISO begins to creep above 5000. At the beginning of this year my mind boggled at the thought of ISO 1000. The 5D4 now? Well, that just excels.<br />
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Bump the ISO up to 5000? No problem, an electric car would probably have more noise. Even when you reach 10,000 the images are usable. This next image was shot at ISO 10k and is cropped in at around 100%.<br />
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A camera's ergonomics are very important; you have to be able to change your settings instinctively, without having to really think about what you're doing. Canon got it right with the Mark 3, and it's largely the same with the 4. There are a few pretty cool new features though; the new body has improved weather sealing, the quality of the LCD has been updated, so that it now shows better colour and clarity, and it's also been made touch-screen. I was a little wary of this at first, but it's not without its merit.<br />
Another new technological step up is with the inbuilt Wi-fi. This means you can control the camera from your phone, which, to be fair, is pretty cool. And really quite useful if you forget to put new batteries in your remote triggers... ahem, not that I ever do that.<br />
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This new technology does not come without some small costs - I've noticed that the Mark 4 drains batteries at a more substantial rate than the 3 did. It's not particularly problematic, as each battery can probably last for 1000 or so images, but the charger does get a lot more use than it once did.<br />
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It's still early days, but for me, from my experience, although I have found both to be brilliant, the 5D Mark4 has many improvements over its predecessor. Most notably and most importantly, in the low light control and the accuracy of the focus. The Mark 3 is undeniably one of the best and most popular wildlife cameras around, and is certainly not worth forgetting. The Mark 4 just pushes the boundaries of possibility even further. I feel hugely privileged to be using this camera, and am excited to see what more it can do in the new year!Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-71462628807269770172016-10-29T09:29:00.000-07:002016-10-29T09:29:12.618-07:00Garden Gold... or Yellow.Yesterday afternoon I was enjoying the remainder of half-term in true educational form by embracing procrastination with open arms - we do get along quite well it seems. Sure, I still had a little homework to get done, and I did have the best intentions of focussing on that, but well... it could wait for a little bit, couldn't it? Darn you procrastination and your enticing ways. And so, there I was on the computer, when a repetitive call outside of the window distracted me from <strike>doing</strike> (forgetting) my oh so important work. Almost instantly after my cognitive functions had kicked in and I had processed what I was hearing, I realised what it was - a Yellow-browed Warbler! I jumped up, accidentally kicked something, grabbed my camera, ran outside, realised I would get a better view from my bedroom window, went there instead. And there, with eyes strained I waited. It made its presence clearly known with vocals, but - in the true fashion belonging to loud birds - somehow managed to avoid being seen. After a few minutes the calling stopped, and aside from a brief flutter of movement, I'd not seen it.<br />
Feeling that these views were perhaps a little inadequate, I went back to the garden to search for it. You know how it is, somedays a brief obscured flutter just won't do. Thankfully, it seemed to be of the opinion that my garden isn't all too bad a place to hang around. Some thirty minutes after first hearing it call, I managed to pick it up again; flitting around a holly tree in the corner of the garden. What a little beauty, and that supercilium! Not quite as good an eyebrow as a Pallas's (honestly though, what is?), but better than a Chiffchaff by a long shot.<br />
Okay, yes, the views were rather poor, but having only ever seen one before, I don't think I was particularly in a position to complain. Indeed, especially not when it was in my garden, and more so when you consider that my garden isn't in Norfolk - the 5,371km square YBW magnet.<br />
Another stunning and unexpected addition to the garden list, and a nice way to procrastinate from procrastinating.Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-90959765700907525632016-09-25T06:03:00.002-07:002016-09-25T06:03:14.890-07:00Having a Butcher's Ridiculousness. Complete and utter unbelievable ridiculousness. And no, I don't mean the fact that I'm writing a blog again. Again, no, it's not that I've actually been busy with college, and <b>work </b>since last I related a tale to you all. The sheer crazy, is this really happening??ness stems instead from... please sit down for this... birding. Actual birding. Okay, maybe twitching, but still, birds were, or rather <i>a bird</i> was involved. And it was this bird that caused, for many people, a state of flabbergasted awe. Which, to be fair, is most certainly the correct state to be in once a Red-backed Shrike has glided down and taken a grasshopper (R.I.P) from right by your feet. Wouldn't you agree?<br />
Crippling views is a term which is often overused, here though, it's justified. A shrike sitting on a perfect perch, in lovely light... you don't get much better than that.<br />
In the off chance that you haven't worked it out yet (I mean it's not as if the internet's filled with pictures of this bird), yes, I went for the Tide Mills Red-backed Shrike.<br />
It had been present for about two or three days before I managed to get over there, and I had heard it said that it was showing rather nicely.... well they got that right.<br />
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I arrived at about 1pm and spent a good five hours there, leaving at around dusk. The days really could do with being a bit longer again. The shrike, a first summer male, was on show almost the whole time, and was having his picture taken at a rate of about 40 times a second. Well, what do you expect, it was basically a photographer's dream, if photographers were ever daring enough to have a dream that crazy.<br />
At a twitch it is usually considered bad etiquette to approach the bird even a little bit, this wasn't one of those times however (although I'm not saying no one complained), as the shrike would let you approach to within ten feet of it and hardly give you a second glance.<br />
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Despite the presence of a large number of photographers, the bird managed to feed well throughout the day, catching grasshoppers, cranefly, bees, Devils Coach Horse beetles, lizards and apparently a Pygmy Shrew. I was, I must admit, rather fascinated to see a lizard, dripping gook and impaled in a rose bush. Shrikes really are very lovely birds.<br />
As the evening drew in, it stopped feeding so much and started to sit one legged at the top of bushes issuing forth a soft, scratchy sub-song. Not very common behaviour for a shrike in Britain, but then I'm not sure much that this bird did was.<br />
Such a crazy good bird, quite possibly the best ยฃ2.95 I've ever spent; even if it did take me 2 hours to complete a 30 minute journey to get home... Ahh, good ol' public transport. But even the soul crushing abilities of buses and trains were well worth it.<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-69980864292069233902016-08-06T14:22:00.000-07:002016-08-06T14:22:07.087-07:00Tigers of the Urban JungleIt has, I believe, been said that London is an urban jungle. If one is to agree with such a statement, then it must be considered that, in a most un-jungle-like way, London is modest. It doesn't, as it were, exude an exotic exterior. Okay, that is if you choose to ignore the lurid green long-tailed squawkers which go around skiving peanuts and biscuits off innocent park goers. For an average inhabitant of this jungle, most days won't be filled with luscious green trees and parakeets who don't eat your peanuts, but with grey buildings and pigeons of about thirty shades of dull, and perhaps two of blue.<br />
No monkeys, no toucans, no gorillas. Tigers? Well, that's a different matter entirely. <br />
This jungle is home to tigers. There's even a choice of three or four species. One of these has only appeared in the city within the last ten or so years, and has now become well established, and before you ask, no, not in a zoo. If you live in the right area you may well find that they're right in your garden. In the off chance you were just about to start panicking and locking your doors, I feel it's worth pointing out that you probably won't be in much danger... these tigers generally choose flowers over flesh. Oh, and they're also only two inches big. Neither Siberian or Bengal, nor even Sumatran, these are much closer to home: the Jersey Tiger.<br />
There is some speculation as to how these stunning moths ended up in London, possibly they were released, but they may also have been migrants, or even wanderers from one of the already established colonies along the south coast. By whatever means they got here and now that they've arrived they certainly seem to be doing well.<br />
My previous experience with Jersey Tigers extended so far as a single spider-wrapped individual on the windowsill last year. So, as I'm sure you may be able to imagine, with the prospect of them in the garden I was <i>moderately</i> looking forward to their approaching flight season. Okay, so maybe I was just a little more than moderately excited when I switched on the actinic trap last night, but come on, it doesn't get much better than this!<br />
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By 1am this morning the trap had brought in five of these giant beauties, several of which were flying around and flashing their exotic colours; looking better fitted for a rain forest than a small garden in the Urban Jungle.Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-9474789063761381502016-05-15T10:47:00.000-07:002016-05-15T10:47:07.761-07:00Feet Without StiltsI wouldn't say Red-footed Falcons and I have had the best relationship. I just find it hard to trust their 'realness'. Especially when they're in Essex. It's not as such the fault of the birds themselves, more my previous experience. This distrust, as it were, all started about, hmm, 2 years ago now, when a Red-foot was reported at Lee Valley. With the enthusiasm that comes oh so naturally to a child, I quickly travelled to see it via the delights of the public transport system. The report was unfortunately erroneous, leading to a rather devastating day. I wasn't quite as hardened a 'dipper' back then you see.<br />
Since the fated day I've always glanced at reports of Red-footed Falcons with the shrewd eye of bitter experience.<br />
Yesterday afternoon the shrewd eye crept back out, with reports of a female Red-footed Falcon at Vange Marsh. Shortly after, all shrewdness made a swift retreat - ah, the magic of photos.<br />
Vange wasn't too far away... maybe it could be worth a trip. I then recollected that there were a pair of Black-winged Stilts there too. Yeah, maybe.<br />
Okay fine, you're right, there was no way I wasn't going. Except maybe if there were train cancellations - I've never enjoyed replacements bus services. Thankfully there weren't any issues - yes I know it's hard to believe, but I fib not - and so my morning, well, some of my morning and a little of my afternoon, was spent watching this beauty!<br />
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What a bird! Cross a Hobby and a Kestrel, add a drop more awesomeness and voilร !<br />
It spent most of the time in flight over the water, or perched off in the distance, but on occasion it did the decent thing and showed off its aerobatic prowess at moderately close range to the awed admirers amassing below.<br />
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Please accept my apologies for the repetition, but really, what a bird!<br />
I think I rather trust them now.<br />
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There was no sign of the Black-winged Stilts, but I wasn't complaining (much), it was still superb only to see the falcon. Just as long as the Stilts didn't show up again after we left, all would be well.<br />
At 16:45, they did.Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-77130431437217560202016-05-12T14:53:00.001-07:002016-05-12T14:53:35.771-07:00A Pyrausta A Day Keeps The Doctor AwayFive a day and it must be May. Okay, well technically that's <i>not</i> true, but be honest, what would you prefer, facts or rhymes? Surely you'd pick the rhyme.... every time. Alright, alright, I'll cut it out. Without a doubt.<br />
To those slightly keen with their micro moth latin, I'm sure by now that an inkling of the following (un-rhyming) content has began to form. Yes, it's moths. That time of year is here (well that was unintentional) again. Oh and of course, I do still live in Britain, so there will naturally be some complaining about the weather.<br />
A few weeks ago <a href="http://bobsbutterflies.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Bob Eade</a> kindly offered to show me around his patch in Seaford to see some of the fantastic and rather specialised lepidoptera species that occurred there. Up until this week, we could never find a good day to go, and I'm sure you can hazard a reasonable guess why - the weather, faithfully awkward as always. I mean come on, frost and snow in mid-April? Where was that in December? Oh and don't get me started on that wind...<br />
Last week however the climate appeared to have finally noticed the calendar, knocking the temperature up into the mid 20ยฐC's. The wind didn't really relent, but hey, it actually felt like spring - maybe summer even. The point is, it didn't feel like my fingers were going to freeze off. A very promising start.<br />
Late Monday morning, after the now-to-be-expected train delays (I did however manage to see a Pyrausta aurata in my spare time), I met up with Bob and we headed off to his patch.<br />
Within just a few minutes of arriving we were greeted with good views of the scarce, delightful little Elachista subocella.<br />
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We continued on, seeing: Silver Y, Cinnabar, Burnet Compaion and Pyrausta despicata. A nice surprise was a Pyrausta nigrata, not a moth I'd expected to see.<br />
Pyrausta ostrinalis was one of the species we were hoping to see, and after about twenty or so minutes Bob found one. An extremely beautiful moth, but, you know the word mean? Well they were, for the most part, the definition of mean. Perhaps so far as invidious? They had the idea so ever present in wildlife, that moving during the taking of an image is good. Like a sixth sense almost.<br />
Ah well, it certainly made me much more appreciative when one landed and stayed for a while. <br />
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They really are superb!<br />
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There were plenty of good butterfly species around too, a few Grizzled and a dozen or so Dingy Skippers, as well as a couple of stunning Green Hairstreak.<br />
The fifth species of Pyrausta turned up shortly after, an incredibly fresh - and as such stunning - purpuralis.<br />
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One of the micro moths we saw was unfamiliar to the both of us. When I got home I tentatively ID'd it as Tinagma balteolella, a rare species, and after a couple of days, the county recorder kindly verified this. It was only the second site ever to have knowingly held the species in Sussex, and the first sighting of one in the county for 30 years!<br />
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A big thanks to Bob for showing me around, such an incredible array of great species and a superb day out.<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-28604319575119755722016-02-27T13:38:00.000-08:002016-02-27T13:38:28.302-08:00The United States of IrelandBeing the somewhat creature of habit that I am, last week I set of for my now seemingly annual February trip to Ireland. I think this will be the fourth year in a row now, so let's have a brief recap shall we? 2013 - Kumlien's Gull, and Greater Scaup. 2014 - King Eider, Ross's Gull, and loads of other great gulls. 2015 American Wigeon, Woodcock, and so much dipping, that having written a blog-post about it I deemed it too depressing to publish.<br />
So how was 2016 going to fare? Well as long as I didn't dip three rarities - two of which were megas - in one day (why thank you 2015 visit), it couldn't be all that bad could it? I know what you're expecting, but fear not, for thankfully this <i><b>isn't</b></i> one of those times I follow a question like that up by calling myself 'naive', or perhaps even foolish. It actually wasn't that bad. You know what, I'd go so far as to say it was a pretty darn good trip.<br />
The previous February forays for Irish birding all contained me dipping the Ring-necked Duck at Ross Castle. The bird had it in for me, I'm sure. How I offended it though I must assure you I do not know! With a lingering expectancy to once again dip, strengthened by the flooding of most of the paths on site, we took a walk around the area on the 20th.<br />
And my oh my, what was that amongst the Tufties on the lake? Could it be? Surely not... had I at last earned the right to see a Ring-necked Duck? Why yes, indeed it seemed so, for that certainly was a Ring-necked. A stunning drake at that.<br />
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Ireland is an incredible country for gulls, every year seems to throw up a few rare laridae's, and this year was no exception, far from it, with two country-firsts: Vega and Glaucous-winged Gull. The closest England got was a Glaucous Gull, which had wings but was not winged. If you get my drift.<br />
Thankfully the Glaucous-winged was a long stayer, and more fortunately its chosen position to 'long-stay' in, was only around an hour and twenty minute drive away. It would have been rude not to go, and I like to think that I have <i>some</i> manners. So... just to be polite, on the 22nd we went.<br />
It took only a minute or two after I got out the car to successfully not dip. The grey primaries and distinct shawl standing out like a Glaucous-winged among Herring Gulls.<br />
It took flight soon after, giving rather decent views as it went past. Look at those wings!<br />
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It spent a while preening on some rocks, giving good comparison views with a Herring Gull, before flying slightly into Castletownbere and flying between lamp-posts. Standard habitat for a 1st for the country to hang out in.<br />
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I've called it a first for the country a couple of times, but for accuracy's sake, until a decision's reached by the IRBC, this lovely gull has to bear the rather ugly title of 'putative'. Fingers crossed, for birders and the bird's sake alike, that title can be removed.<br />
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I didn't even make it twenty four hours before ticking another American rarity, this time the drake Black Duck at Baltimore. To clarify, the Ireland Baltimore, I have a slight suspicion American Black Duck aren't so rare in the American Baltimore. Not sure why, but I do.<br />
It was a surprisingly distinctive bird, I'd managed to ID it before I even got out the car - and that definitely wasn't because it was the only thing around at the time that looked like a female Mallard. <i>Definitely</i> not.<br />
It showed well for around five minutes, allowing great scope views before it flew around and around, and yep, once more around and then finally off to the north. They're actually pretty nice birds.<br />
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Having seen the Black Duck so quickly, and having had the bird leave a few minutes later, we still had some time, so we decided to go to White's Marsh for yet another long-stayer, and would you believe it, another American duck - Green-winged Teal.<br />
This one actually required a bit of effort to find, effort which equated the repetitive scanning of the same small groups of Teal, to no success. Four Teal flying in brought us salvation, for amongst their numbers was a drake Teal who hadn't put his white line on the right way around, the Green-winged. I still can't believe we had to wait a <i>whole</i> fifteen minutes to see a bird. The impertinence! Still it was worth it to see a Teal with a vertical rather than horizontal stripe.<br />
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Four lifers that are as a majority, I believe, from America. I may have to recheck it was Baltimore Cork I was in, and not Maryland.<br />
So, February 2016... From a non-birder's eyes, a Tufted Duck with paint on its bill, a Herring Gull that's been attacked with an eraser, a female Mallard, and a Teal whose line has wiggled the wrong way around. From a birder's point of view however, I'd say it may have been borderline awesome. Those were some superb birds!<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-15818105236948112242016-02-02T11:12:00.001-08:002016-02-02T11:12:20.659-08:00NGB's in NorfolkNow that was a <i>long</i> weekend. <br />
On Friday morning I headed up to Norfolk with Caleb, enduring a 'delightful' five hours or so on public transport. How else would you like to spend your Friday than staring out the window of a coach for hours, miraculously not seeing any Pheasants? The prospect of Norfolk birding kept me going. Just.<br />
After arriving just outside Norwich, we headed out to meet up with around fifteen other <a href="http://nextgenerationbirders.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Next Generation Birders</a>, before we all embarked together for a weekend of birding and dipping in the great county of Norfolk.<br />
Early(ish) Saturday morning we were greeted by a convoy of four cars, before heading to Flitcham to look for a Pallid Harrier. You can at least tick 'looked for' off the list, for that we did, but alas, looking did little good. It was dip. My first of the year. Well you've got to start somewhere.<br />
The Red-legged and Grey Partridge, Peregrine, Tree Sparrow, and large flocks of Linnet and Brambling made up for it though. Kind of.<br />
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This was soon followed by another dip, the (according, not to me but to about 60% of the group, <i>hideous</i>) Golden Pheasant at Wolferton.<br />
Thornham next, with a stop on the way where we <i>'saw' </i>a Rough-legged Buzzard. I'd rather have called it a silhouetted blob that was shaped like a Buzzard.<br />
At Thornham I life-ticked a lovely small flock of Twite (I shall refrain from making a pun, playing on the fact Twite and quite sound similar). I also missed, what were apparently stunning views of Merlin (somehow still a lifer), which after one was seen at Flitcham while I was there that morning, was a little, umm, what's the word... saddening? Annoying? Peeving? They all roughly sum it up.<br />
Titchwell after that, where we had Water Pipit, Common Scoter and all the expected waders and waterfowl - both Godwits, Knot, Goldeneye, it was a nice spot for birding!<br />
The Lapland Buntings reported at Blakeney had us on yet another dip, but some conciliation came with another group of Twite. Seeing so many on a day, having never seen one before, was 'Twite' a nice surprise. Agh no, I'm so sorry, I tried my best, but it just had to be done. Please forgive me.<br />
By now if was quite late in the day, so we finished the day's birding at a Hen Harrier roost where we had distant views of about six individuals, along with a probable Marsh Harrier and a stunning pair of Barn Owls! Oh, and another Merlin, which, would you believe it? I missed.<br />
A lot of dips (the tale of my birding life) but still a very enjoyable day. Next morning we had a little more success.<br />
The day started with the magnificently terrifying beauty that comes so naturally to Glaucous Gulls, even when they're scrabbling for bread in a car park. The 1st winter bird at Great Yarmouth gave stunning views. A lovely brute, if those words ever could work together.<br />
There were one or two Med Gulls here who also held the their composure while sinking to the same bread-eating level.<br />
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A drive through some muddy fields - which nearly got us stuck - gave good views of both Bewick's and Whooper Swans, with some further muddy fields (Norfolk has a lot of mud) providing a few thousand Pink-footed Geese.<br />
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From there, we went to Braydon, where the islands in the river turned out not be made of mud (with how things had been going, that was surprising) but were comprised solidly of thousands upon thousands of Wigeon and Teal. I don't think I've ever seen such a sheer number of birds as were in that river! Along with all the ducks, there were Snipe, Golden Plover and Spotted Redshank.<br />
After a while of staring out at the river, most of the time in awe, with the rest being spent thinking of the effort involved to try and find a Green-winged Teal out there, I happened to glance behind us in time to see a pair of Bearded Tits at the front of the reed-bed. Quite a good bird for the area, the male and female both gave amazing views as they fed, in the reeds. Such stunners!<br />
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We finished up the weekend's birding in the 'Brecks', where we dipped Great-grey Shrike and Hawfinch, but did see a few Marsh Tit and a rather early bat at Lynford.<br />
And thus we returned home, after over 300 miles of driving (big thanks to <a href="https://twitter.com/Jess_Cripps" target="_blank">Jess</a> for driving) 91 species seen, and all in all an awesome weekend with great company. <br />
However, I do feel those three Merlin I missed will haunt me for a while to come...<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-90175685250053622412016-01-28T11:40:00.000-08:002016-01-28T11:40:17.577-08:002015 Year in ReviewA year-in-review post? Yes, I think there's just enough time for one before I have two years' worth. I do seem to make a habitat of being, umm, <i>fashionably</i> late with writing these.<br />
So, how was 2015? Well, it certainly involved more dipping than I'd have liked. A <i style="font-weight: bold;">lot</i> more. Anyone else ever dip two megas in a day before? A suggestion, don't try it.<br />
There was also the odd success here and there, the time I happened to be visiting Scotland while there was a Harlequin Duck in Aberdeen for example...<br />
But for the sake of structure, and in line with a fair percentage of stories, let's start at the beginning.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>January</b></span><br />
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Ah January, the month that deceived me of the twitching failures awaiting in the coming year, with a spell of unprecedented good luck. By the end of the 2nd day of the year I'd already seen Rough-legged Buzzard, Hen and Marsh Harriers and 5 Short-eared Owls. Although I did miss a Barn owl on the drive home...<br />
Next day, Slavonian Grebe showing exceptionally well at Wanstead, and continuing to do so for a further two visits during the month.<br />
Bring on the 29th, where a drive down to Kent had me successfully not missing a Barn Owl. By 10am, having got Bewick's Swan a little earlier, I was watching my third lifer of the day - Cattle Egret, in a field which unfittingly had no cattle. The rest of that day held, among much else, the usual Dungeness goodies: Great-white Egret, Bittern, Smew and Tree Sparrow.<br />
January was a good month.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>February</b></span><br />
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February was the month things started to go a little wrong... but before that happened, let's begin with the 1st, when a spur of the moment trip to the cold of Gunners Park had us freezing to our spines for 3 hours before being rewarded with 2 stunning Serin!<br />
The 9th, I was out twitching again, this time for a bird with yellow legs, it was called a Lesser something or other... and that was it, my first dip of 2015. The first of many.<br />
Just 18 days later, while in Ireland I dipped (not for the first time) the Ballycotton Laughing Gull. Unlike the gull, I didn't find it funny. A stunning American Wigeon saved the day.<br />
Is it worth mentioning that I dipped Ring-necked Duck too?<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>March</b></span><br />
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Still in Ireland, I began March in a spectacular way. On the 2nd I headed for the American Coot on Lough Gill, it was out there, <a href="http://kerrybirder.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Caleb</a> had it in the scope, I looked, and then came the rain, the snow, the hail, the sleet and the strong winds. I could see Coots, but the sudden weather change made it impossible to distinguish which was the American. I'll file that one as a dip. We then headed to look for the Black Scoter. Let's just say the 'dipping file' got a little larger. Later that afternoon, while partaking in lunch a dozen or so miles away, we spotted a single Scoter which seemed... odd. You know, at the time it seemed to reminisce the look of a Black Scoter. When the photos were posted online several others thought the same. So it was, of course, an unusual Common Scoter. Now if that's not a spectacular day, what is?<br />
Things did pick up after returning to England, on the 11th I had great views of a female Black Redstart at Brighton Marina, and a day's birding around Newhaven on the 16th brought my first Richard's Pipit and Jack Snipe.<br />
Not only was March begun spectacularly, but March ended rather spectacularly. Thankfully in a very different way. On the 28th we headed up to Scotland, and on the 30th we took a slight 'diversion', which lead us to Seaton Park. Just for a stroll you know. OK you saw through that, so it <i>may</i> have had something to do with the Harlequin Duck... It was quite a nice stroll too though...<br />
Having driven to Blairgowrie, after the 'stroll', we headed out the following morning to look for Grouse. And we found Grouse. By midday we had seen over 20 Black Grouse and 10 Red Grouse as well as a Short-eared Owl!<br />
March was not all bad.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>April</b></span><br />
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I started the month photographing Grouse, Mountain Hares and walking up a mountain through a foot or two of snow - No, London hadn't changed that much, I was still in Scotland.<br />
On the 2nd I was back in England, and on the 16th I cycled 12 miles to look at a field. It wasn't even an interesting field. It was interesting earlier that morning of course, as it had a Hoopoe in it then. But when I arrived it was just a field. Hoopoe-less and birder-filled. Dip.<br />
The next day we headed to Abberton reservoir (thankfully not on bicycles) for what proved a more successful day's birding. An awfully stunning drake Garganey, and after a few hours of chasing sounds and staring at a hedge, a Nightingale!<br />
8 days later, I was once again to spend several hours chasing sounds, this time craning my neck up to the canopy to eventually spot a Wood Warbler. When it appeared, it made the neck-pain worthwhile.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>May</b></span><br />
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Grey Wagtail fledglings! Always a highlight of Spring, they turned up in the park on the 1st.<br />
A seawatch a few days later provided Little Tern, as well as Arctic Skua and Bonxie. And didn't, I repeat <i>didn't</i> require an early start. That was an odd seawatch.<br />
On the 9th, after many years of being driven mad ( you might even say Cuc.... No, I won't say it) by hearing them and not seeing them, I finally saw a Cuckoo. Two actually.<br />
Perhaps most surprising though, I got an interesting bird on the patch. Yes, I couldn't believe it either. A Hobby, dashing over and out of the park on the 15th.<br />
On the 25th things changed. On the 25th I went looking for moths. The highlight was the scarce Commophila aeneana, along with 11 other species. A Eucosma metzeriana was the only other moth of real note for May.<br />
There wasn't all that much birding for the next few months.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>June</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
Probably the last spot of birding I did before August, a trip to Lakenheath for the Little Bittern. The Little Bittern which sat there calling the whole time. To avoid confusion, let me adjust that. The Little Bittern which sat there <i style="font-weight: bold;">out of sight</i> calling the whole time. Need I say it? Dip.<br />
Throughout June my garden played the afternoon resting spot of a rather 'chill' fox. With the views it gave, I wasn't complaining!<br />
There were a lot of moths in June, to save keyboard wear, I'll summarise it to - There were some cool moths in June.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>July</b></span><br />
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An appropriate summary of July however would have been - There were a <i>lot</i> of cool moths in July. An awful lot.<br />
Towards the end of the month we headed to Wales for a week's camping. After two days I was successfully put off camping. It's never nice to wake up and find that rain's been sneaking in your tent all night. Never. The moths were worth it though. Many, many hours of walking around, day and night, and we managed 95 species, including two county firsts.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>August</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
On the 3rd I headed off for a month or so in Ireland. The only birding we did were two Pelagic trips, and, other than the constant worry that comes hand-in-hand with being out at sea for 5 hours with a stomach of a somewhat weak constitution, I found that I like Pelagic's...<br />
Storm Petrel, Sooty Shearwater, Grey Phalarope, Bonxie and Long-tailed Skua, are all thing that are 'likeable' I would say. A small pod of Minke Whale and a load of Dolphin aren't half bad either.<br />
And of course, there were some moths in Ireland too. Through the endless Square-spot Rustics, Agriphila straminella and Blastobasis adustella, I managed to see around 140 species.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>September</b></span><br />
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After Ireland, I was back on the patch on the 12th, when I had my 2nd Hobby for the park this year.<br />
On the 19th, I was rather surprisingly awarded the ZSL Animal Photography Prize 2015 Junior winner. Not sure what happened there...<br />
The 21st held A Grey Phalarope that 'only' showed down to 17 foot, at Cuckmere. On the 25th I finally mixed things up, managing to do a successful twitch. Yes, an <i>actual</i> successful twitch.<i> </i>I wasn't sure it was possible either, but the hyperactive blob could be nothing other than a Wilson's Phalarope. A few Little Stint were a nice bonus!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>October</b></span><br />
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October... October, what happened in October? Hmm, well I dipped a Yellow-browed Warbler, took a lot of photos of Grey Wagtails, and umm... oh yes, spent an excellent ยฃ2.25 to see an Osprey at Southease. That was October.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>November</b></span><br />
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Rather embarrassingly, I dipped a butterfly two days running. What a way to kick-start the month. It turns out Long-tailed Blue aren't that easy to see.<br />
I also at last got myself a moth-trap, a little late in the year, but I still had a fair amount turning up.<br />
To answer your question, no, I did no birding. I did have a regular Firecrest in the garden however, and garden-ticked Treecreeper.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>December</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
The final month of the year (I'm sure you know that though...). Not exactly a bird-filled month, but it did hold my first ever Caspian Gull on the 11th, so not bad, not bad at all.<br />
A trip to Rainham on the 3rd was intended for birding, but I got distracted by a few Agonopterix alstromeriana - my 400th moth species of the year.<br />
So, there we have it, a rough overview of my year as an extremely successful dipper. That's something to aspire to, right?<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-12634324989773660272016-01-16T13:25:00.000-08:002016-01-16T13:28:57.641-08:00What...Err, Pipit?Excluding the patch, it'd been quite a while since I was last out birding. That stunning 1st winter Caspo was the last time I'd ventured away from the park for birding, and even then it was still just down the road. That being the case, I welcomed a trip out to Rainham Marshes on Friday to properly start the year's birding. It didn't disappoint: birds, sunshine (yes that does still happen), more birds and a good ol' dollop of stringing. What more could you want? I suppose a Glaucous-winged Gull wouldn't have gone amiss...<br />
Having travelled by public transport I met up with Jean-Michel Blake (a new London birder, recently moved here from the probably much more bird-filled Zimbabwe) at Purfleet station, before we headed to the marshes.<br />
The unseasonable mildness we had been experiencing with the weather of late, has now gone. Very far away. It was a bit '<i>chilly</i>'.<br />
Having scanned some of the ducks we headed round to look for the Dartford Warbler, which has seemingly ended up on the wrong side of the river. We were greeted with the cursory 'It was here ten minutes ago', and followed this up by giving it a further fifteen minutes to show itself. The wait, although brief was not in vain. No, sadly the warbler did not show, but we had a Barn Owl pointed out, as this photo oh so clearly shows, so I'm not complaining.<br />
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We completed the circuit of the reserve, getting several great views of Marsh Harrier, a few Snipe, a flash of a Kingfisher and a total of 45 species.<br />
Then, after a hot beverage had been consumed, it was time to look for Short-eared Owls along the Thames path. There was a slight delay, caused by me losing, and subsequently (a hundred or so metres back the way we'd come) finding half of my scope's eyepiece... But no need to worry, ten minutes later a Short-eared Owl took up in front of us! Always such stunning birds to see.<br />
With the train service home being rather infrequent, we began the walk back along the edge of the Thames to Purfleet. It was during this walk I picked up on what, from their call, I expected to be a pair of Rock Pipits, as they took up from the shoreline. I fired off a few photos as they went over. Now let the stringing commence. Upon reviewing the images, the birds seemed paler than I'd have expected, and the eyebrow was pretty strong too...hmm. Thoughts of Water Pipit started to creep in.<br />
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Having narrowly caught the train, and once the arduous experience of being a sardine on a bus was through, I got the photos up on the computer, where they looked even better for Water Pipit. There was even a white outer-tail feather. I daringly braved posting the images online, and thankfully was rewarded with several agreements to my suspicion. Water Pipit! Sure, it's not a rare species, but it's one which I'd long wanted to see.<br />
Good company, good birds, terrible photos.<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-21820661809093179612015-12-14T10:43:00.000-08:002015-12-14T10:43:46.853-08:00Gull on my MindI like gulls. Or rather, sometimes I like gulls. It's not so unusual an occasion that I ignore gulls. Especially large flocks of gulls. More especially if the flocks are of large juvenile gulls. The thought of searching among all that mottled brown plumage for something of interest... The mind boggles. It's not to say, that I don't enjoy seeing gulls themselves (with the exception of the 1st winter Yellow-legged Gull which I'm sure was a Herring Gull going through a 'phase'), it's just the idea of finding one, or more for that matter, attempting to. Daunting stuff.<br />
Caspian Gulls? Well, there lies a slight difference. It's long been a hope of mine to see a Caspo. I would even go so far as to scan a flock for a Caspo - given the flock wasn't <i>too</i> big, of course.<br />
Recently, a 1st winter Caspian, had been reported at Wanstead. So it was, Friday morning, having expanded my limited knowledge of gull identification, I walked the mile or so to Wanstead and prepared to scan gulls.<br />
Honestly? It's not <i>quite</i> so bad. Sure, I may have seen several YLG's and not realised it, but I was at least pretty certain that I hadn't seen the Caspo for the first half-an-hour of scanning. And that's something isn't it. Isn't it?<br />
Having searched the football fields and the Alex pond, with no luck, we decided for one more look before heading home. Another scan of one of the fields revealed two or three large juvenile gulls in the flock. One of which had a suspiciously white head. And were those legs particularly long too? It was hard to tell with the gull having laid down. But the features looked promising. It certainly seemed to stand (not literally due to the laying down part) out from the other gulls.<br />
When eventually it did stand back up it showed that yes, those were particularly long legs, the also long, blackish beak was almost parallel with its' head, and in flight it showed pale underwings - Caspo.<br />
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What a beauty!<br />
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I later learnt the white rump, dark subterminal band and shawl were also good pointers... Nope... I have no idea what any of that means either. In all honesty, picking out a Caspian Gull wasn't quite as hard as I'd imagined. Even from quite a difference I was fairly positive of the ID. <br />
You know, maybe, just maybe, juvenile gulls aren't <i>that</i> bad after all...<br />
<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-39236011523751387942015-12-06T10:14:00.000-08:002015-12-06T10:14:03.127-08:00Birthday Bus BirdingDo you remember last year I turned fifteen? Well, this came as a shock to find out, but this year I'm going to be even older. The cheek of it all. Tomorrow I turn the ripe old age of sixteen... time to break out the walking stick.<br />
In keeping with the tradition of the last <a href="http://earlywormbirder.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Birthday" target="_blank">few years</a>, I celebrated the last few days of being a (variable of course) age by going birding. You may be proud to know that for this year's pre-birthday events, I didn't even twitch. After last year I think not twitching was... umm, wise. So, just good old - old, stop reminding me - fashioned birding.<br />
On Saturday I headed out with <a href="http://kerrybirder.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Caleb</a> and <a href="http://hittheroadliam.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Liam </a> for a day of birding around very windy Sussex. Bus birding to be precise, which constitutes a lot of buses and, well, on this occasion, not a lot of birds.<br />
We started the day shortly after sunrise at Brighton Marina, and saw some large waves and a Rock Pipit. Exciting times.<br />
On from there, buses to Hove Lagoon for some distant views of a Great-northern Diver on Southwick Canal. This was a county tick though, so a nice addition to a list that I don't really keep. Possibly as it would be scarily low if I did.<br />
Despite the wind's best intentions to blow us away, Liam managed to find a pair of Common Scoter out on the sea from the beach here, a relatively good bird in Sussex at this time of year.<br />
Back into East Sussex after that, to the Ouse Estuary Project where we had nice views of Kestrel and half a dozen or so Snipe in flight. The light had begun to fade by this point, so we made our final stop at Newhaven to try and find a Caspian or something else interesting among the gulls coming in to roost. The wind then decided that shouldn't be possible and reached rather its peak of the day. 'Blowing a Gale', I believe would be a fitting expression. <br />
There was a Shag in the harbour, and with seemingly nothing among the gulls, we called it a day. The weather was <i>not </i>hospitable.<br />
The journey home took me to an all time personal best, ten buses boarded in a day! It turns out the excitement of buses ran out for me about ten years ago. I think trains to be more bearable a form of public transport.<br />
We didn't see anything <i>amazing</i>, but still, not an unenjoyable day's birding. At least I didn't dip...Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-44820390410726975492015-10-15T09:33:00.001-07:002015-10-15T09:33:20.237-07:00Sweet SixteenHe's arrived. That well travelled local celebrity is here again. Back for his sixteenth (yes, <i>sixteenth</i>) winter, Valentino! Yes, please do go ahead, applause there is justifiable. London's most famous gull has returned.<br />
It's always a worry in early October that maybe this year Valentino won't return. At around eighteen now he's getting on. How long is it before he retires and spends his winters on a Mediterranean beach rather than a eutrophicated lake with rats in London? Or worse, abandons us for Wanstead. After making a few excursions to the flats last year that's a growing possibility.<br />
But let's not think about that, for now, let us just rejoice. What a bird!<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-19590789005439048392015-10-12T09:08:00.001-07:002015-10-12T09:08:55.061-07:00CoincidenceI can at times be a bit of a sceptic. After twitching a Red-footed Falcon which never even existed, I now like to have a little more than a single tweet to go on - Pictures help too.<br />
So when, on Friday a Yellow-browed Warbler was reported from Regent's Park, although I didn't completely doubt it, I thought it a little odd. Last year I had my first Yellow-browed Warbler, an individual which took <a href="http://earlywormbirder.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/elementary-dear-warbler.html" target="_blank">two </a>attempts to see. It was also one of, if not London's only Yellow-brow that year. That was at Regent's Park too, coincidence? Sure, why not? <br />
There was only one reporting, but I was heading that way on Saturday anyway, so it was worth a look. Checking where in the park it had been seen threw up another little oddity: It was seen at the north-east end of the lake before flying to the island. Huh, that's where it was last year. The coincidence grows, as does the scepticism.<br />
Having spent an hour or so searching the area without even hearing a call, we decided to give up with no warbler and go and photograph the Herons. Funnily enough that's also what happened last year.<br />
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So no, this - unfortunately - doesn't have the kind of ending where the coincidences were just coincidences and the bird was there showing nice as you like. If only. However, I don't believe it to be a tale of falsehoods and stringing. It was reported by people who I believe are good birders, so I'm sure it <i>was </i>there. At first at least, to save face I'll say it wasn't there when I went.<br />
As such, it is at risk of contradicting myself that I say, in this case perhaps being sceptical was wrong and it was just a pure fluke of coincidence. Or, just a returning bird with a routine it likes to stick to, even if it was eight days earlier this year.<br />
But what am I thinking, last year it took two attempts, so let's see what happens this week. Just ignore the hindering factor it hasn't been reported again and is probably a hundred or so miles away by now. Or maybe a <a href="https://twitter.com/WansteadBirder/status/653232830818975744" target="_blank">little closer</a> to home perhaps?Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-78152501392079560182015-10-07T11:24:00.000-07:002015-10-07T11:24:23.862-07:00A Birding MoralPhalaropes are great. I've seen two of the three species, Grey, and as of <a href="http://earlywormbirder.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/a-quick-stint-at-marsh.html" target="_blank">last week</a> Wilson's.<br />
Filled with an enviable (for us oldies, I'm nearly sixteen) and seemingly endless energy, they never appear to stop moving. You'd think they'd be a nemesis to photographers. Not so. With Grey at least they're practically a photographers best friend, particularly if they're in Sussex. They seem to know no boundaries, being more than 24 inches away is out of the norm. A photographer would generally suffer from having 'too much lens'. And as we all know, photographers - generally - love complaining about not having enough lens. So too much? Basically unheard of. This was how both last year's Hove 'play-ground-paddling-pool' bird, and the recent bird on the Cuckmere performed. I went for the Hove bird, it was amazing. The Cuckmere bird was showing just as well, and in more natural habitat, you could bet your hat I was going to go! What's more you could be sure I was going to get the first train of the day there. It's practically guaranteed I'd walk the three or so miles from the station to get there before sunrise. And you know what? It was down right certain the Phalarope would show amazingly.<br />
This was to be my third Grey Phal. The Hove bird, a hardly tick-able fly-by from a pelagic, and then this. Ignore the fly-by, this was going to rival the Hove bird, this one was going to be great. Wasn't it?<br />
Nope. Nee. Nein.<br />
The bird had moved from a small pool to what would probably be classed as a lagoon. In which it stuck to a single current and never came closer that 15-20 foot, more often 50. Terrible. At the time I'll admit, to my shame, I <i>was </i>a little disappointed. A scarce migrant down to 20 foot, that should be amazing, shouldn't it? In the moment, it didn't really seem so. There's a simple answer here - the Hove bird ruined it for me. Well, that and the pictures from the day before.<br />
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<i> I mean it's not that bad</i><br />
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Does this mean then, that unless my next Grey Phalarope is less than two foot away I'll be disappointed? Honestly, I hope not. How often do they show quite that well anyway? I'm sure two in the last two years is just a coincidence. At least with Wilson's it just needs to be within 500 foot, and Red-necked just needs to be there...<br />
The moral of this story? Never (ever), have expectations with birding. Or, just make sure you go the day before.<br />
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<br />Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-47200463969455855402015-09-29T10:55:00.000-07:002015-09-29T10:55:35.147-07:00The Boat was Diesel, There Were Still a lot of PetrelDuring my month in Ireland, I did go birding, yes. But only twice. About ten hours of birding for a month, not great I know. To be fair, there seemed to be little around - Not that that's a viable excuse. England on the other hand was seemingly brimming with migrants and rarities. I mean there was even a group of three Wrynecks. <i>Three</i> of them. I'd be over the moon with just one! Ireland of course, had none of this, well they steered clear of western Ireland at least.<div>
As such, the two birding forays of the trip were not twitches (If you can believe that), but nor were they regular birding days (if there is such a thing). No you see, I finally entered the realm of the Pelagic. A realm I'd been dreaming of for a long time. I like boats. Oh, and of course, I like sea-birds too. </div>
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My stomach is of the constitution that it, umm, doesn't handle car-journey's that well. So you can, I'm sure, imagine my worry of spending five hours out at sea. I won't paint that picture any clearer, for your comfort and mine. I found however, fresh sea air, along with Storm Petrels flying just a few feet away make for a good remedy to keep sea-sickness at bay. Who'd have guessed...</div>
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Although I think following their nonsensical flight through the view-finder may have counteracted that a tad. I added hundreds of shutter-counts to my camera, and this is practically all I got. Fast little things!</div>
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Aside from the Storm Petrel, the first Pelagic trip produced two Sooty Shearwater, a handful of Manx and this Bonxie. It's amazing how much more impressive they are when they're not blobs on the horizon.</div>
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The second Pelagic involved one of those lovely 5am starts. Eating muesli at 5am isn't that easy. It also sadly involved a lot less Storm Petrel, only about twenty throughout five hours. The Manx's however were out in much larger numbers. A Sooty (I think), more than half-a-dozen Bonxie, oh and two of these beauties...</div>
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Long-tailed Skuas, yeah they're rather something! One even had the audacity to chase a Bonxie, it must have been mad. They showed amazingly, one flying right over the boat!</div>
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We were also quite fortunate with Cetaceans, having up to five Minke Whale, and rather a lot of Common Dolphin - three of which swam right by the boat, if only for a few seconds, it was still a little mesmerising. </div>
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Ignoring the daunting, ever-present feeling that the rocking of the boat would get the better of my afore described constitution, it was great fun. I like boats, I like sea-birds, so of course, I like Pelagics.</div>
Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-33762730973769648462015-09-26T08:41:00.000-07:002015-09-26T09:22:02.767-07:00A Quick Stint at the MarshRemember when this blog was true to its name and was about birds? When scopes and telephoto lenses were a common feature? When I regularly complained about dipping, or less commonly, told of successful twitching? It seems to have been an eternity doesn't it... But fear not, for on Friday, my scope having been recovered from hibernation and my binoculars having been dusted down, I went <i><b>birding</b></i>. Yes, you read that right, birding. A rather nice spot of local twitching to be precise. A bus, a train and a walk later (OK so maybe just local-ish) and we had arrived. Let's get the eyes back to looking at blobs in the distance, and what better way to start than with the Vange Marsh Wilson's Phalarope.<br />
There were half a dozen or so birders there already, so it wasn't long before one of them had got us onto the hyperactive speck that was the Phalarope. Even at that distance there's no mistaking a phalarope! Although I wouldn't have been too happy to comment which species for myself...<br />
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Slightly closer, but by no means close, were three delightful, and oh so tiny Little Stint, scurrying around some sleeping Mallards. A species I've wanted to see for a while now (The Stints, not the Mallards), so it was nice to get some reasonably decent scope views.<br />
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Asides from taking such stellar photographs, it was just good to be back in the field birding again, and with some great birds too!Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-81432155386370724332015-09-14T13:28:00.000-07:002015-09-14T13:28:56.698-07:00Ireland lepidoptera...My goodness it's been a while since my last post, about a month now? What's that you say? Two months!? Well yes, I rather think you're right. One month of that time I have an excuse for however, and the course of this post will be focussed on that month. The excuse? Ireland. This year, in tradition with the last three or more, I spent an enjoyable month staying with family in the Irish countryside - or in colloquial terms, up a hill. <br />
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In short, a month of mothing. And now, in long, but not full, unless you want to hear the details of what I saw on each of the 36 days...</div>
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It was Ireland, so of course, the weather was not great: nights were often pretty cold, and days were often very windy. But working with and around the weather, it actually turned out a superb trip for moths. We only set up a light-and-sheet trap on a handful of occasions, and although that did contribute a fair amount, most of the moths seen on the trip were either by day or by torch-light. Altogether I totalled up over 140 species, though most of that was in the first few weeks, towards the end it was hard finding anything that wasn't a Square-spot Rustic.</div>
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Early on, before the reign of the Rustics, was when one of my favourite species from the trip turned up rocketing around in the house, the beautiful Antler Moth. Although not an uncommon species, we only ended up having one of these lovely little moths during my stay.</div>
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Although never bringing that many species at a time, the light-trap did however bring some stunners: Pebble Prominent, Scalloped Shell, Scalloped Hook-tip True Lover's Knot, Four-spotted Footman... being just a few that stood out, to be honest most of them were stunning!</div>
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Another firm favourite was Ghost Moth, I had two, on separate occasions. One, a rather worn individual on Ragwort, and then this beauty by the light one morning! What an an incredible moth. Of course, I couldn't resist taking a few photos...</div>
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And what would a month of mothing be without Micros? Aside's from a lot easier on the eyes that is. I spent most days looking for micros, and found a good number around the land. Nut Bud Moth even challenged Square-spot Rustic for the 'Most-ubiquitous-moth-in-Ireland' award. Blastobasis adustella was also in the running.</div>
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Prochoreutis myllerana, Mompha locupletella, Carcina quercana... I'm beginning to think writing a list of micro names will take a <i>lot</i> of time...</div>
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Although it wasn't packing quite as much colour as any of the aforementioned, Phylloporia bistrigella was a micro favourite, at only 3-4mm it's one of the smallest, unless you dare to attempt Nepticulidaes. Phyllonorycter are bad enough too.</div>
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Rather like the conversion of a book into a film, a lot's been left out. But I can't see my self making it through writing out 140+ moths names, or even less likely, anyone making it through reading them all. But the highlights have been covered, it was a good trip. Oh, and you know what? I even went birding (whatever that is). More on that to come...</div>
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Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-58126481850788705212015-07-09T13:55:00.000-07:002015-07-09T13:55:12.009-07:001st Class MothingI have recently spent a lot of time at train stations. And not just for my weekly traversing. I have, for want of a better word, been <i>loitering</i> at my local train station. Both day and night. Camera in hand? Yes. Making lists? Yes. I see what you may be thinking, but worry not! I have most certainly not taken up train-spotting. Despite what it may seem to an onlooker. No, you see, my local train station is unusually good for moths. Sure, I'm no expert when it comes to mothing at train stations, but I feel more than fifty species over a period of three days isn't too bad.<br />
Although it had occurred to me on several occasions that the lights at the train station could be good for attracting moths, I'd never really tried mothing there. However when <a href="http://kerrybirder.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Caleb</a> found an Elephant Hawk-moth on the side of the steps, I was unsurprisingly swayed to deciding to see what came at night.<br />
A lot, that's the answer. The stunning Blackneck, Peach Blossom and Swallow-tailed were a few favourites. However, the award for most incredible moth of the night for me goes to the Enteucha acetosae. One of, if not <i>the </i>smallest moths in the world. Being just 1.5mm in length, it was umm, quite tricky to see. It's size is comparable as to that of the eye of a White Ermine. Both ridiculous and ridiculously awesome.<br />
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Heading back the next night, there was even more about. Burnished Brass, Buff Arches, Figure of Eighty, Coronet, The Lackey, Shark (no, not the fish), Elephant Hawk-moth, and a nice surprise under one of the seats in the waiting room - Small Elephant Hawk-moth! A very worn individual, but stunning nonetheless.<br />
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Returning the next afternoon to collect some rain tickets, we then found a Kent Black Arches under one of the seats! I feel I may now spend more time looking for moths under these seats than sitting on them.<br />
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An awesome few days mothing, and a much more enjoyable way to spend time at the station than waiting for trains...Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8822431431648565401.post-3441200649401945692015-05-31T14:27:00.002-07:002015-05-31T14:27:22.607-07:00Much Ado About MothingAlthough todays gloomy weather could make you believe otherwise, it is almost summer. And with the season fast approaching it's been time once again to brush the dust off the macro lens and head out looking for moths. Oh, ahum, and butterflies too. The annual summer transition from Ornithology to Lepidoptera has begun. And I must say, it's been a rather good start.<br />
A 6:40am walk up to Hollingbury Golf-course (or rather the fields and woods around it) on the 25th for a couple of hours, transpired into over five hours. Of course, it was on one of the few occasions I had neglected to have breakfast before leaving. And no, I didn't get lost, I just got a little bit carried away looking for moths...<br />
The morning started off with a stunning Alabonia Geofrella, and as it started to warm up, one of the hedgerows held a Green Long-Horn, Elachista Atricomella, Red-twin Spot Carpet and a few hundred Cocksfoot moths. And in the grass along the edge, a pair of Aspilapteryx Tringipennella (Yes, I wish that name was simpler too) and a Small Yellow-Underwing.<br />
I began to slowly make my way home, heading through a patch of woods where I found a lovely Pammene Regiana.<br />
While walking through the main field, an interesting looking orange micro moth flew over the path in front of me and landed briefly, I grabbed a few record shots before it flew off and I was distracted by a Mother Shipton. That little orange micro turned out to be the nationally scarce Orange Conch! A very unexpected find.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLtJTIfF9-xxhJBuYg2cRvX0KU0ppLps-8gBf0ryKHTTzFvUy5heTtUZFiWMm_UFaVks-GikgKYvP3tz_NNXIgvBdjdbngF6e5Av25vqFm8DqcXompqwHSEb_LVIKxecAwT-LwJuLmAk/s1600/Moth6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLtJTIfF9-xxhJBuYg2cRvX0KU0ppLps-8gBf0ryKHTTzFvUy5heTtUZFiWMm_UFaVks-GikgKYvP3tz_NNXIgvBdjdbngF6e5Av25vqFm8DqcXompqwHSEb_LVIKxecAwT-LwJuLmAk/s400/Moth6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Hoping to re-find the Orange Conch, I headed back for an hour or so in the afternoon the next day, and although I was unsuccessful in that endeavour I did find a Downland Conch, close enough for me!<br />
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After two great days mothing in Sussex, on the 28th we decided to see what we could find at Wanstead. It was quite slow going to begin with, but we did eventually get Firethorn Leaf-miner, Pseudargyrotoza Conwagana, Dichrorampha plumbagana, Homoeosoma sinuella (If you properly read all those names you deserve a medal), and best of all a Eucosma metzneriana! A recent colonist of the UK, the first record for Britain was only in 1977. I'm not quite sure what its status is in Wanstead.<br />
So yes, I feel that's a decent start...<br />
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Thanks to everyone who's helped with ID's!Early Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11590391908461555265noreply@blogger.com0