Birding Braunie

It was 6.30am; I was in the middle of nowhere and I couldn’t hear myself think. The birdsong was extraordinary. It was if the birds knew we were on the cusp of BST and they were going to go for it. Wrens with their high velocity, high pitched call attacked me from areas low down among the broken trees of past storms. Above, high above, Chiffchaffs played out their relentless 'chiff-chaff' song as they moved around the bare tops of the trees. Elsewhere you could hear the gurgling of Blackcaps followed by the beautiful flute-like warble that came from somewhere deep in the hawthorn. A supporting cast of Robin, Chaffinch and Song Thrush all added to the cacophony around me. Made me smile. Chiffchaff, giving it some. Chaffinch Wren As is normal with me, I like to have a couple of hours walking around the Lee Valley Park to see what’s around (punters alway ask and we have a sightings board in the info centre that always looks better with something on it). I was su...

Spent a couple of hours this morning over at Rainham Marshes looking for Wheatears. A few had been seen over the previous couple of days and so I figured there was a reasonable chance I could bag a couple for myself. The Thames river bank by the RSPB reserve is littered with debris, everything you could possible imagine is strewn along the tide line. It is a wonder these beautiful birds want to spend their time in all this mess but clearly it holds a good supply of grubs and caterpillars. Female Northern Wheatear There were I estimated, five  Northern Wheatears along this stretch of the Thames, three males and two females. On the shore itself, Oystercatchers , Curlews and Redshanks piped in spring. A few Reed Buntings and Linnets made themselves heard while a few Meadow Pipits and Skylarks chased around the more grasser areas of the landscape. Male Northern Wheatear I was lucky to get the two shots I did as these wheatear are very flighty right now but in a few w...

Hmmmm. It’s funny but I’m getting a bit fed up with the Bittern. I want this rubbish weather to dissipate and for us all to be basking in glorious spring sunshine. The spring migrants are a month away and what a joy they will be as they sit atop scrub or tree and sing while I – in shirt sleeves – shoot away on my little Nikon with a decent shutter speed for a change. It’s true though that digital cameras are sophisticated enough to give reasonable results in the darkest of days but couple that with a moving subject and things get bad, really bad. So for now, I have had to rely on the elusive Bittern as a subject. This can be an uneasy and often unproductive partnership. So while I wait for the Bittern, I used this female Mallard to practise my digiscoping skills on. A few people have asked me how I get the shots I get. Well, most of the time the shots are pretty poor. I occasionally get a decent image and then hastily run it through Photoshop CC and bingo, better results. When...

It’s called the Bittern Watchpoint or more precisely, the Bittern Information Point. It’s not the Water Rail watchpoint or the Sparrowhawk info-point, even less the Cormorant watchpoint. Thing is, the Bittern is a bit special; not every nature reserve has them; in fact, most don’t. The Lee Valley has for years played host to wintering bittern and the park authority recognised the importance of encouraging and attracting as many of these scarce and appealing birds that it could. The reed beds have been carefully managed and now there are healthy swathes of reed any discerning bittern would be happy to hide in – and can they hide. Even though there have been roost counts of up to three bittern in the park (this is about half of what we had last year but that coincides with a mild winter across northern Europe) sighting had been few and far between for a few weeks at Fishers Green, home to the Bittern Watchpoint. Plenty of Smew, Goosander and Water Rail but only glimpses of Bittern. ...

Okay so this was probably a waste of my time and yours if you watched it but it will serve as one of those timeline moments when people will say "He’s come a long way since that early Bittern debacle, hasn’t he?" Don’t hold your breath. I have a lot to learn here. Mainly, don’t let any over-enthusiastic birder trip over your tripod when the shout goes up. Also, make sure God moves the sun around so that you film something that can actually be seen. Finally, get a decent camera. What’s amazing though is that the 3 or so seconds of the Bittern was in fact all anyone got that day. I really need the Bittern to receive his equity card and put on a real performance. What this space. (Anything is better than watching this film.) Music: Chord Left by Agnes Obel.

Some people think I’m married to the Lee Valley Park and they’re probably right. What they don’t know is that I have a mistress called Connaught Water. It’s the quiet one; the one no one would think of. Clever really. I get my hit of Mandarin Ducks here as well as the occasional Goosander and Red-crested Pochard. The forest edges tempt me with Nuthatches, Treecreepers and Marsh Tits. Heaven. Sunday was cool, calm and crisp – real glove weather. I wanted an hour here as a female Smew had been seen for a couple of weeks on the lake and although a Smew was already on my 2014 list, I figured I could get a pic of this elusive sawbill. My first circuit of the lake produced a smart drake Pintail (unexpected) and the usual Tufted Ducks , Shoveler , Teal and about 17 Manadrin Ducks , most of which were hiding in the fringes of the islands that sit on the lake making life difficult for birdwatchers. I stopped to chat to a City of London Ranger who had the task of making safe the hundreds of...

Most birders love Jan 1st. It’s the day we all turn over that page and start our new list for the year. We all have resolutions to increase that list: better it from the previous year: plan those trips with more determination to succeed. I couldn’t chose my trip. It was decided the minute I volunteered to man the information point at the Lee Valley. I love it. I prefer it when the sun shines and unfortunately, the sun was nursing a huge hangover from the previous nights celebrations. In its place we had driving rain, blustery winds and a chill that went straight to the depths of your damp bones. A rather soggy goose field Through rain-splattered glasses I saw Redwings and Fieldfares sharing a ploughed field with about 20 Blackbirds and a pair of Song Thrushes. Jays and Magpies squabbled over winter food and huge Great Black-backed Gulls joined Lesser Black-backs and black-headed Gulls wheeling under the charcoal sky. Most of the park’s species of duck were in attendance. Wige...