River Otter

Whilst spending most of last week with family up in Suffolk, I couldn't resist a sneaky ten minute bus ride to Thetford to finally meet the popular Black-bellied Dipper (the nominate race in mainland Europe, and a scarce visitor here), that has been moving back and forth along the River Thet for the past four months.

The Dipper was a great little character to watch as it fished along the bank, and it's ridiculously tame nature added to the magic of the moment. The whole show was stolen though by the appearance of one of the local family of wild Otters, which gave a lovely swim-past to a shed load of very satisfied onlookers without even flinching. Most were dressed up in full camouflage gear, but needn't have been. The Otter seemed just as interested in us as we were of it, casually playing, sniffing and scratching itself along the bank of the river just metres away. A genuinely magic moment, and in the sunshine as well. Not a bad way to see your first Otter.

The Nation's Favourite Dipper

What's that? A vagrant continental Black-bellied Dipper in Thetford? ... No idea what you're talking about.

159/1000

Late March is usually that time in spring when we can pretty safely say goodbye to those short, cold winter days. Wheatears will be returning, Orange-tip butterflies will be emerging, and the mild evenings will be beckoning spring-flying moths onto the wing...

... bollocks.

You look out there now, and it's snowing. No butterflies are emerging, no moths are out, and the few Wheatears that have made it here are freezing their little white arses off, wishing they stayed in Africa. If you'd excuse my language, I'd say it's absolutely barmy.

Luckily though, it hasn't all been that bad. Early March was quite nice, at times, and I even managed to get out to Stokes Field on a few occasions in the vain hope of finding flora and fauna to add to the '1000for1ksq' challenge that I think I'm failing at. My list currently stands at 159 (160 pending the identification of a weird purple weed in the garden when I get around to it), but since this is the first time I've ever tried to do a list, I've got no idea how I should feel about that total right now. Is it good, or completely pathetic? I want to say I've made a bit of an effort, but considering the fact that my nearest rival, Seth Gibson (i.e. 'the Gibster')- situated on the Epsom Common 1km square- has already totted up a mad total of 341 species, I'd say I've got no chance.

On a good note though, I was greeted one recent morning by this sign. Apparently, Stokes Field is now a 'local nature reserve', and no longer a grimy 'urban fringe' site. Hoorah!

Hart's Tongue fern Asplenium scolopendrium found in a churchyard just inside the imaginary 1km patch boundary...

The very common leaf mine of the fly, Phytomyza ilicis, present on just about every Holly bush in the area...

Ivy-leaved Toadflax Cymbalaria muralis, a self-seeded plant in the local graveyard...

Oak-based larval galls of the wasp, Andricus kollari. Most were vacated, so couldn't be counted, but one or two were still in tact...

Physcia adscendens, an obscure lichen, and one which I can't take credit for identifying. Thanks go to fellow challenger Matt Price for doing the honours...

Slender Speedwell Veronica filiformis, a dinky little plant growing by the side of the pavement near the house. Thanks to Steve G for setting the identification straight.

Wild Cherry blossom looking deceitfully spring-like...

If anyone is interested (don't know why you wouldn't be), I'll be updating my 1000 species list on a separate page below the blog title. Hopefully April will see that list increase a bit, once I can actually manage to whip the moth trap out before getting frozen to death in the process.

Anyway, I'm off to the rolling farmland of Suffolk for a few days. Might even pay that Thetford Dipper a visit. Ta.

Staines.. and Such

I don't know about anyone else, but yesterday morning I woke up to the sight of something completely out of the ordinary. I kid you not, there it was in the sky... the Sun; albeit a weak, hazy blob barely hovering above the clouds, but still the sun nonetheless.

Not wanting to waste such a rare event, I joined the congested mass of cars on the A308, and headed for the concrete jungle that is Staines, for a spot of bird watching. Other than being the legendary birth-place of Ali G and the 'Staines Massive', Staines is also pretty well known for a number of large open spaces, which act as vital rest points for migrants travelling through the city. My first stop was Staines Reservoir; a vast expanse of open water with a thin public causeway down the middle, situated just south of Heathrow, were a Red-throated Diver had been reported, along with the usual wintering Great Northern Diver, which wasn't too hard to find...

The Red-throated Diver was eventually located at the far end of the north basin, but never came close. Anyone know if the Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition is still taking entries? ...  

No trip to Staines would be complete without a visit to the Reservoir's slightly drier counter-part, Staines Moor; a collection of rich meadow pastures, grassland, and woodland, bisected by the River Colne, and all situated within a stone's throw of the M25. A true haven amongst an urban jungle.

A timid pair of Water Pipit were feeding along the River Colne, with both birds starting to come into summer plumage, and showing a very slight pinkish colour to the breast. On the way out of the Moor, a singing Firecrest turned up out from out of nowhere, and displayed beautifully in the afternoon sun along the concrete path that leads between the Moor and King George VI reservoir. An evening cropping session revealed that the bird has a silver ring on its right leg. Not that that means anything without being able to see the actual code itself...

The day was rounded off with a dash over to Canon's Farm, near Banstead, where a certain Mr. Campbell had located the long-staying local Barn Owl roosting in an elm tree. I've been eyeing up this particular bird for the past week, but never expected views anything like this. It was all pretty surreal, with the bird happily snoozing- and occasionally preening- just metres above our heads. One of those encounters you just don't forget. The bird remained in situe for the best part of an hour, before heading off across the fields and into the gloom...

Ali G on the subject of the environment...

Ring-necked Duck... that was not

This drake Ring-necked Duck x Tufted Duck hybrid got the blood pumping for a minute in Richmond Park this afternoon, associating with a load of Tufties on Pen Ponds. Whilst it showed the distinctive greyish flank and a prominent white marking on behind the black bill tip, the lack of white at the base of the bill, as well as a visibly faint crest eliminate the possibility of a pure Ring-necked. Still a very smart bird, with a nice hint of green gloss to the head...

Still no sign of Wheatears in either Bushy or Richmond Park, despite plenty being reported already in London. Can only be a matter of days now...  

Middle Class Dilemmas

With the prospect of an Ecology course at University fast approaching, I've had to come to the realisation that I don't have a lot of money, and that, even with a full time job, I'm going to be left absolutely skint by the end of a degree. Unfortunately, photography is not the cheapest hobby in the world to pursue at Uni, and as much as I love my current lens, its a real bitch to carry around, let alone insure. After a lot of umming and arring, I recently decided to put her up for sale (or will do when I get round to it), and 'downgrade'- if you could call it that- to a more realistic, easily transportable lens... Nikon's flawless 'classic' 300mm f4.

All this talk about University got me wondering for a second about what it really is I want to get out of it all. As you might have guessed, I'm currently on a gap year, partly because I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself, and partly because I'm lazy. Somehow, last October, I managed to confirm myself a place at Worcester Uni, starting September this year, to study a three year course combining two of my favourite subjects, Ecology and Geography, into one 'Joint Honours' degree. In an ideal world, at the end of this, I would supposedly be set up with as equal chance as any at grabbing a paid environmental based job, but is this a realistic hope? With the huge amount of competition about today, it seems vital to have that extra experience/qualification on your C.V. Perhaps it helps to start at the grass-roots after a degree, gaining contacts and volunteering your way up to a full position; I know of a few people who have managed this through the Natural History Musem. Would be interested to find out if anyone has any experiences of this...

Anyway, back on the subject of lenses, I gave the 300mm f4 a little test run in Bushy Park yesterday with a Mistle Thrush, and was pleasantly surprised at its performance, even with a teleconverter, in low light. There was barely any noticable drop off in IQ or sharpness at all, and size-wise, the lens is ideal for hand-holding (although the lack of VR might take some getting used to), whilst at the same time retaining a good solid feel in the hand. Dare I say it even rivals the ridiculously priced super-telephoto primes...

At around mid-day, the female Lesser Spotted Woodpecker made itself visible in the Canal Plantations, and showed ridiculously well in the overhanging trees by the path, before flying further back into the Plantation to spend a good part of an hour drumming the hell out of a single piece of tree trunk. No sign of the male in recent weeks, which is a shame.

Right, I'm off to drive my Ford Fiesta to Waitrose; we've run out of their organic grissini breadsticks.

Southsea Sandpipers

Rounding off an intense day of birding along the south coast with a visit to the wintering flock of Purple Sandpipers on the shoreline below Southsea Castle. Brilliant little characters, and often very well behaved subjects, given a bit of patience. They took little notice of the camera, and were quite content on hyper-actively searching amongst the rocks for small invertebrates. Give it less than a month and these birds will be returning to the cold, bare Arctic tundra to breed. Hardy little sods.