Bucket List Whinchat

Whinchat has always been high on the mental bucket list of things I've always want to photograph. A spring-plumage male, fresh from Africa, is a damn colourful passerine and one of the finest to pass through London, so when news came through of two males and a female in Bushy Park, I snuck in a cheeky late evening visit. The sun was barely still above the horizon, and the birds were extremely skittish, but I managed one of two shots of a perched male, as it moved through the bracken with a load of Wheatear. Hopefully more of the same soon.

Further Patch Gold

I was planning on giving you another update on the 1000 species in a 1km square challenge in a long, drawn-out post this evening, but rather inconsiderately, a patch first decided to turned up on the patch this afternoon, so I guess I'm going to have to talk about that instead.

With the morning spent identifying a load of obscure Coleoptera in pots, I managed a quick stroll over to Stokes Field at lunch time, in the optimistic hope of some day flying moths being on the wing in the spring heat. A few Grapholita jungiella and Eriocrania subpurpurella were added to the challenge list, as was the first Orange-tip of the year, but more noticeable were the larger number of Chiffchaff, Blackcap and Whitethroat that were now on site compared to yesterday; an increase similar to the mass migrant activity of the 15th April, when a Redstart showed up briefly on the hill.

As I headed up to the hill at the top of Stokes Field, a silent pipit flushed from underfoot, and landed in a nearby overgrown rose field. Meadow Pipit is a real rarity here, and with the high numbers of migrant warblers on site, there was a good chance that one could have dropped in at some point during the morning, so I had the urge to check it out. Relocated without too much problem, the pipit was evidently tame, and approaching closer in the grassland revealed a heavy bill and buff upper parts. It was no Meadow Pipit... it was a friggin' TREE PIPIT!

Admittedly not the rarest of passage migrants, but I really thought my luck had ended after the Redstart, and as I've probably said before, the very fact that it was on the doorstep, in the same field that I've been walking around relentlessly whenever I've had free time during the week, just made it extra special...

Only yesterday had I been brushing up on Tree Pipit flight call, in the vague hope that one might fly over the patch, but to have an individual showing well on the deck, on a small overgrown patch of grassland that's been more popular with dog walkers recently than it has been for wildlife, was a great feeling. The pipit carried on foraged about in the grassland for five minutes, before it flew up into a tree briefly, and disappeared north out over surburban Surrey.

At the risk of rambling on about a small, overgrown urban fringe site that I can pretty much guarantee you've never heard about before, I've got a good feeling about the future of Stokes Field. In the relatively short five years I've been coming to the site, I've never met anyone even remotely interested in wildlife, let alone a birder, however, with a healthy grant that was left to the Lower Mole Trust last year, hopefully a sensible conservation scheme with the right intentions can be developed, that may give the site a bit of a better name. I'm still intent on bio-blitzing the site throughout the summer when I can, and all records collected will be sent off to the relevant bodies, to build up a bigger picture of ecology at Stokes Field. As much as I fancy the peace and quiet that can be had there at the moment, I'd hate to think that 'notable' species are going completely unnoticed.

The first Common Whitethroat of the year returned back in mid-week, and there are now at least 6 territories around the scrub...

Plenty of Blackcaps singing as well...

Five away...

It's getting tense. A foray around in the garden yesterday morning, and an afternoon spent at Stokes Field has left me just five short of the 300 species milestone for the 1km square 'everything' year list. This Pan-species listing thing is becoming addictive. Even just putting half an hour aside a few evenings a week to rummage around your garden could easily produce a good few hundred species throughout the summer, without too many 'special techniques' or mad identification skills needed.

The idea of record absolutely everything does still seem quite daunting; there's definitely no way I'm going anywhere near those obscure mosses and lichens for another good ten or twenty years, and parasitic wasps can happily buzz off until they stop looking so similar to each other. I've just about drawn the line at those tiny Springtails, of which I've so far managed to identify 5 species. Interestingly, one of those; found under a partly submerged log in a boggy area the other day turned out to be the extremely scarce, Isotoma riparia, a little yellow springtail with a distinctive stripe down the body that seems to be recorded in Britain on rare occasions. Just shows the kinds of things that are lurking out there waiting to be found...

Other than Springtails, I've found that Hemiptera have featured quite heavily in the 1km square recently. Luckily, there are quite a lot of useful resources on this large group of bugs (over 2000 in Britain), and as well as owning 'A Photographic Guide to the Shieldbugs and Squashbugs of Britain and Ireland', you cannot go without visiting Tristan Bantock's excellent British Bugs online identification site; possibly one of the most concise and easiest to use guides available for insects on the internet. Here are some from the past few days.

Blue Shieldbug Zicrona caerulea- swept from long grass in Stokes Field...

Juniper Shieldbug Cyphostethus tristriatus- landed on the moth trap in the garden yesterday afternoon. Only ever seen this once before in Kew Gardens, perched on Juniper, not surprisingly...

Deraeocoris lutescens- a common predator bug in the garden, and one of many swept from a hawthorn tree...

Birch Catkin Bug Kleidocerys resedae- another small bug swept from the same hawthorn yesterday afternoon...

At the opposite end of the Hemiptera spectrum are the leafhopper families. Fairly easy to search for in spring by bashing the branches of deciduous and evergreen trees during the day. This Zygina flammigera was netted from a small conifer at the back of the garden, along with some other common garden leafhoppers; Balclutha punctata, Zyginella pulchra and Zygina angusta.

Zyginella pulchra... 

But what could the 300th species possibly be? Guesses below; the best guesser will get a sense of pride in their heart... but absolutely nothing else.

Prehistoric Birds

I was going to post another update to the 1km square year list, but I've done that a lot recently, and your probably bored to buggery of it. So, instead, here is a Cormorant from an early morning walk through Richmond  Park recently. I was hoping to catch up with a few spring migrants passing through, with Common Redstart, Wheatear, Whinchat, Yellow Wagtail and Black Redstart all seen in the park this past week. Setting the alarm for 6am, I was in full birding mode by 7am, excited at the endless possibilities as to what could possibly turn up. I walked, and walked, and walked more, and saw nothing. Lots of nothing.

Not willing to accept defeat, I took the route back past Pen Ponds, and whilst there were, to my slight disappointment, no Slavonian Grebes displaying on the water, this Cormorant, fishing close in to the bank, was nice compensation...

Perhaps it's just me, Cormorants always seem to remind me of something almost prehistoric looking, especially when fishing in water. Certainly have that reptilian quality to them...

Parakeets doing stuff with blossom

They don't get a brilliant press these days, and you could argue a pretty strong case for eradicating every last one of the screeching little buggers from the country, but when it comes to sheer beauty, and their superb ability to adapt to alien environments, you've got to admire Ring-necked Parakeets... c'mon, even just slightly?

I'll admit to having a soft spot for these guys, so much so that back on Tuesday I went out of my way to drive down to Bushy Park to photograph them feeding on the emerging blossom.

... I say 'feeding', when actually I'm not quite sure what they were doing with the blossom (hence why I've left the title open to interpretation). The parakeet would land on a branch, pick off an individual flower and twirl it around (held by the stalk) in it's beak for a few seconds, before dropping the flower to the ground. It would then repeat this until every flower on the branch had been picked and dropped, with no visible part of the flower eaten. Perhaps they were taking advantage of some kind of sugar substance from the end of the stalk?

This video, taken by Max Whitby (of Birdguides), shows the behaviour well: 

http://vimeo.com/natureguides/review/64089644/367ce8f7ab

A male Pheasant was finishing off the dropped flower heads on the ground below; can't remember the last time I saw a Pheasant in Bushy Park; guess that's one thing to thank the Parakeets for, even if they do scare everything else away.

Spring Bees

After finding Bombus hypnorum (a.k.a Tree Bee) on the patch on Monday, I sat down and spent a bit of time that evening searching through various resources to brush up on my very limited knowledge of Bombus bees, ready for the spring time emerging species. I set out to Stokes Field yesterday armed with the newly purchased Field Guide to the Bumblebees of Great Britain & Ireland, a hand lens and a camera, on the off chance that there would be a few Bumblebees about to photograph.

Not surprisingly, given that we're now mid-way through April, there were a few things bumbling about, and by the end of the day I'd managed four of the typical spring species; all were feeding on Dandelion, or sunning themselves in leaf litter around a small woodland clearing.

Common Carter Bee Bombus pascuorum...

Early Bumblebee Bombus pratorum, with distinctive orange tail just visible...

Buff-tailed Bumblebee Bombus terrestris is by far the most abundant on the day, with queen bees now searching for potential nest sites throughout the patch...

Hairy-footed Flower Bee Anthophora plumipes with, not surprisingly, rather hairy feet...

Another nice evening out on the patch today, with the 1km square list increasing to 229 species. It was nice to get the first Ortoptera of the year, in the form of a Slender Groundhopper sunning itself in a damp meadow, and the first House Martin of the year flew over.

No.      Latin                                           Common name                        Date              Location              

219	Delichon urbicum	House Martin	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Bird
220	Arabidopsis thaliana	Thale Cress	17-Apr	Orchard Avenue	Plant
221	Pentaglottis sempervirens	Green Alkanet	17-Apr	Orchard Avenue	Plant
222	Tetrix subulata	Slender Groundhopper	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Orthoptera
223	Notostira elongata	N/A	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Hemiptera
224	Nabis ferus	Field Damsel Bug	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Hemiptera
225	Psylliodes affinis	N/A	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Coleoptera
226	Plantago media	Hoary Plantain	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Plant
227	Cardamine hirsuta	Hairy Bitter-cress	17-Apr	Garden	Plant
228	Glechoma hederacea	Ground-ivy	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Plant
229	Equisetum arvense	Field Horsetail	17-Apr	Stokes Field	Plant

Phylloscopus Photography

Another lovely sunny day out on the patch, but with noticably less migrant activity. Yesterday's Redstart had departed, and the only noticable arrivals were a handful of Willow Warbler into the woodland. The 200th species for the "1000 in a 1km square" challenge was quickly snapped up in the form of a flowering Sweet-violet, and the list quickly escalated to 210 species when the sun came out.

With both the common Phylloscopus warblers, Chiffchaff and Willow Warbler, about in such good numbers, I took the opportunity to get a few photos with the new 300mm f/4 lens. The birds co-operated perfectly, but the wind was blowing a gale at times, and the lens lacks the modern godsend of vibration reduction, so it was hard to keep the camera steady. There were few keepers, with these two being the pick of the bunch.

Chiffchaff...

Willow Warbler...

Telling apart Chiffchaff and Willow Warbler can be a bit of a pickle, especially if the birds are silent and feeding high up in a tree. It becomes a hell of a lot easier in the spring, when the birds enter breeding plumage and start singing. The Chiffchaff above had a ring on its right leg; would have been interesting to find out the code, and perhaps find out if it's an overwintering bird, or a long distance migrant from the continent. Will have to keep an eye out for it from now on.

Redstart on the Patch

Well, after a good five hour session on the local patch today, I certainly take back anything bad I said about spring in this morning's post!

I've been intent on tracking down a proper spring migrant at Stokes Field for the past few years, but considering it's small size, lack of noticable habitat and relatively poor placement in the middle of Surrey suburbia, I've never managed anything other than the usual Chiffchaffs and Blackcaps. Taking the two minute stroll from house to patch this morning, it was clear that things are beginning to look more promising. The first Swallow of the year went over the entrance, and a Tree Bumblebee- a relatively new addition to the British list- alighted briefly on a grassy curb. At least 20 Chiffchaff were singing throughout the woodland, and amongst them the very welcome song of (embarrassingly) the patch's first Willow Warbler. No idea why it's never showed itself in previous springs, but then again I've never had this much time to dedicate to looking for them before.

No idea...

Tree Bee...

Small Tortoiseshell...


Following in the footsteps of the Willow Warbler were the first two butterflies of the year; Small Tortoiseshell and Comma, and a quick search around the trunks of Pedunculate Oak produced the hoped for Eriocrania subpurpurella; a spring flying moth that I was sure was going to be a complete no show considering the recent weather. Whilst watching a flock of Chiffchaff (yes, a flock; there were literally 15 in the same tree), the sudden fly-by of a red tail caught my eye, and I turned to face a stonking male Common Redstart perched in a poplar tree, a few metres further up the path. By the time I'd fully taken in what I was watching, and reached for camera, it had gone.

I'd dreamed about this moment for a long while, but an actual Common Redstart on my tiny patch in north Surrey? This was madness. I was pleased at seeing a male in Richmond Park last spring, but to find one just a few hundred yards from the front door was something special. After 3 hours without any further sign of the bird- with a brief lunch break back at home- the Redstart finally reappeared on the hill top in the late afternoon, allowing for a record shot...

One of many to turn up in Surrey/London today

After the excitement of so many migrants everywhere, the rest of the afternoon was spent recording the more inconspicuous wildlife for the 1km square 'everything list', which now stands at 199 species...

Ivy-leaved Speedwell...

Pollenia rudis...

Colt's-foot...

Toad...

Toad hugging another Toad...

Bring on tomorrow.

We Need to Talk About Moths

Moths. They've had precious little air time on the blog in recent months for one reason; it's been crazy cold. Come to think of it, last night was the first time in over a month that I've actually bothered to managed to get the moth trap out in the garden, and considering the fact that we are now half way through spring, I'd say that's pretty damn atrocious.

During much of the spring and summer, recording, identifying and just generally thinking about moths becomes a worryingly regular part of my weekly routine, and if I'm not checking a moth trap in the early hours of the morning, chances are I'll be dreaming about doing it. This year however, the freezing spell in late winter/early spring has rendered moth trapping worthless, and no doubt resulted in the belated emergence of many species awaiting a warmer weather window to fly. Unfortunately, I imagine there will also be a large number of casualties to the weather- not just in the adult stages, but also in the more vulnerable early stages as caterpillars and dormant eggs, possibly leading to knock-on effects later in the year.

Last night was encouraging, but still ridiculously poor; 3 moths of 3 species; a single Twin-spotted Quaker, Early Grey and Diurnea fagella the best that could be mustered up. Compare that to the mild weather of this time last year, when I was getting an average of 30 moths of 15 species on a nightly basis, and it's quite worrying. I even created a chart in Excel from data collected in the garden, comparing species diversity up to this point in 2012, with that of the 2013 season so far. The conclusions were stark:

I dread to think what lepidoptera numbers will be like come May. As much as I'd love to imagine the thought of a Grizzled Skipper sunning itself on a warm, south-facing chalk slope in the North Downs this year... I just can't do it.

The garden set up for 2013; a dust-bin, a light tube, an old bed sheet strung across two ladders and compulsory beverage. 

Heron vs Frog

A slightly more graphic blog post than usual today, and if you're at all sensitive to the sight of defenseless frogs getting pulled out of the water by a bird with no moral values, then you might not want to carry on reading.

Whilst in Bushy Park yesterday, I came across this sneaky Grey Heron that had inconsiderately plonked itself right in the middle of a frog spawning area on a small pond in the Woodland Gardens. Rather than hunting fish, this particular bird had chosen to tackle the local amphibian population, much to the inconvenience, not to mention annoyance, of the local frogs...

This heron definitely has a frog in his throat *ha ha ha ha*... I know, so predictable. I'm sorry.

Despite adopting the most unswallowable of postures by instinctively stiffening it's limbs, the frog was sadly only delaying the inevitable, and whilst the end result wasn't exactly very nice to watch, it was interesting to see just how stealthily the Heron hunted up close. Nothing was rushed. Every single footstep was placed with absolute precision as to ensure no potentially distracting ripple was created in the water, and patience and subtlety were demonstrated to perfection.

That's nature for you.