Seasonal greetings

Last weeks poll, where I asked which of the four seasons (Frankie Valli was not an option) was the naturalists favorite, spring came top with 59% of the vote. This surprised me. I would have put money on the birding element boosting autumn into top spot. I went for summer as it is the season in which all of my interests are firing on all cylinders (not so hot for birding admittedly). Other percentages were: summer (7%), autumn (22%) and winter (11%). As much as we might complain about our fickle weather, it, and daylight length, are what make the seasons what they are. Each has its own characteristics and images that we grow up with - snow, leaf fall, bonfires, bluebells, swallows - even a person with little interest in natural history will name such things if they are asked to describe what the seasons mean to them. Each season does, of course, blur into another - wader passage starts, in reality, in late spring/early summer although we tend to think of it simply as 'autumn passage'. Our summer migrants start to appear in the winter month of February. Climate change may well cause changes to the behaviour of our wildlife even further, making the seasons less, or indeed more, pronounced.

Inspirational books part 2

Ornithologically, one book has always stood head and shoulders above the rest (can I mix my metaphors like that?). HG Alexanders '70 Years of Birdwatching' grabbed me by the parka and formed the way I birded for many years. I adopted so much that HG wrote about that I became his 'mini me'. If you haven't read it before please try and seek out a copy because it is simply the best book that I have had the pleasure to read that passes on wisdom in such an entertaining and dignified way. It is also a potted history of ornithology as the old boy lived to be 100 and birded practically all his life. It will cost you £70-90 second hand though, so if you know someone who owns a copy, ask them nicely to lend it to you.

The Collins Bird Guide simply has no rivals. The illustrations are alive on the page, the ID information to the point and is well laid out. I very rarely refer to anything else. My only quibble is that the type in the book is too small - at least to my eyes. After buying practically every European field guide published since 1974, this one will take a lot to beat.

As a publishing house, anything by Poyser in my formative birding years was worthy of investigation. HG's book was a Poyser, as to was 'Bird Observatories' (which I have read many times but do not, unfortunately, own), 'Weather and Migration', 'Birdwatcher's Year', 'Owls of Europe' ... I could go on, but suffice to say that each white-jacketed book was longed after. Some people went for New Naturalists, I went for Poyser.

Inspirational books

We are lucky in this country to have a long, established history of book publishing of natural history subjects. I have bought and proudly displayed such tomes since I obtained my first bird guide in 1974. Some of these books have been used to the point of destruction - others have been opened once and swiftly forgotten about. Others, very rarely, become more than merely a book. They are so cherished that they rise above the plane of being just ink on paper. Today I present to you the botanical wonders of my library...

The New Atlas, at £100, might seem a bit steep but the maps contained within are so valuable. They are large enough to be read without the aid of a magnifying glass and aid the botanist in identifying areas in which they may confidently search for species. Before I visit any area I work through these maps, to get a feel for what is on offer. It's true that a single dot will not give you precise directions to a plant, but half the fun of turning up in an unfamiliar area is to see what you can see. A bit of a hint beforehand can alert you to the possibilities.

The New Flora, normally referred to as Stace after its author, may at first resemble nothing but a checklist littered with scientific jargon. Half the reason for that is because that's exactly what it is, BUT, it is far more than that. All subspecies and forms for each species are given, together with range, status and critical group line drawings. It also can act as the ultimate life-list. I like nothing more than to add a tick to my copy.

Britain's Rare Flowers by Peter Marren is a rare beast - a highly informative book written in such a style as to make the reader feel as if they are out in the field with the author, or actually present at botanical stations that they have never visited. Read his account of finding his first Early Spider Orchid and tell me you weren't jumping up and down with him. This book will get you out in the field looking for rare flora.

The strimmer has strum

Commenting on my post about Wildlife Trusts a couple of days ago, Jerry Blumire wrote: "It took years just to get (the Surrey Wildlife Trust) to very reluctantly clip a small piece of hedge so that my disabled son could see some of Spynes Mere." The good news is that, as of yesterday, much of the obstructing vegetation in that area has been removed. Thankyou to the SWT. It was hard enough for us able-bodied birders to view the water, but totally impossible for Jerry's son, Thomas. But now Thomas can gain uninterupted views and can indulge in his passion that is birding. My only problem is that Thomas has already got a higher Holmethorpe year list than me and will now most probably pull further ahead!

Public enemy number one?

My last post prompted a couple of visitors to add to my views on the behaviour of certain elements within the Surrey Wildlife Trust. On further reflection, what saddens me is that people who obviously have a shared interest in wildlife should bang their heads together at all. This is not an isolated case. We can all think of certain individuals (a well-known twitcher springs to mind) who can polarise opinion faster than Jedward. I have been a member of various birding 'gangs' over the years and in almost every case there has been some fall out over something, normally centred around one person - you know the sort of thing, accusations of stringing, not buying rounds in the pub, calling into question the ability of others.

Bona fide groups and societies are not immune. The RSPB's use of culling on reserves has certainly caused controvery in the past; certain environmental consultants accepting windfarms as a good thing is a current hot potato - but it is hard to accept that these decisions have been made from a point of view of deliberately damaging wildlife. The choices have been settled upon by a process of rational thought, by people like us, with an understanding and apparent love of wildlife.

The chances are that any group of enthusiasts (train spotters, football supporters, WI, cricket club members) will, by the very nature of being a disparate band of human beings, see confrontation and disagreements. Just because we practice the more cerebral arts like sniffing flowers, peering through telescopes and spending too much time surfing the internet for wildlife data doesn't mean we are any different. It would just help if both sides engaged in respectful dialogue.

Are you a member?

The last North Downs and Beyond poll asked which organisation you thought was the most worthy: RSPB, BTO, Wildlife Trust, Wildfowl Trust or another nomination not listed. Not surprisingly the RSPB came out on top with 43% of the vote, with the BTO and the Wildlife Trusts polling 26% and 22% repectively. The Wildfowl Trust and a.n. other came up the rear polling 4% each. I have been a member of all those listed at one time or another although currently am a member of only one - the RSPB. Why did I let the others go?

The BTO, without doubt, does good work. They are the power behind the bird ringing programme, the nest record scheme, Winter and Summer Atlases and countless other long-term and one off schemes. When I used to ring (I gave up my A permit in 1983) being a member was as natural as breathing in and out. My stopping ringing coincided with a sea change at the BTO - the membership was relaunched with a number of different entry levels of membership. Basically, the more you paid, the greater the number of publications you were sent. It became a larger financial commitment. At this point I withdrew from being a member.

I never really 'got' the Wildfowl Trust. Sure, I was aware of and in awe of Sir Peter Scott and his dedication to all things duck, geese and swan. But a visit to Slimbridge or Arundel was always tainted with the chance of the wild birds being impregnated with plastic bretheren. It was like walking around a zoo. Plus the fact that, despite many visits, I never did see Lesser White-fronted Goose at Slimbridge. My membership lasted only months - I most probably joined to get some free gift as a bribe to do so. If I lived next door to one of their reserves I would most probably rejoin so as to save a large wad of cash over the year due to not having to pay an entrance fee for my frequent visits.

Ah, Wildlife Trusts - it all gets a bit personal here. I can only speak of the Surrey Wildlife Trust of which I resigned as a form of protest. I have had a run in with a part-time warden of theirs who has played a small part in managing a reserve, a 'management' carried out with, I believe, the finesse of a concert pianist wearing boxing gloves, and any - and I mean any - criticism or negative remark about this supposed management, has been met with a smear campaign that Peter Mandellson would be proud of. Having said that, the Surrey Wildlife Trust has published a fine series of books, each volume of which I proudly own. When did constructive criticism and open debate become verboten in this particular Wildlife Trust?

Any society, or body, or even a stand alone publication that brings to the publics' attention the wonders, the science and the belonging that can be gleaned from each avenue of natural history deserves our patronage, regardless of cost or petty personal battles. We cannot afford to be patrons of each and every one, but I think that we need to put our hand in our pockets when we can to ensure that such institutions continue to exist and do their valuable work.

2010

Is it too early to start planning the 2010 campaign? With the High Street, newspapers and television already overdosing on Christmas, I have allowed myself to look ahead at what I want to achieve next year.

Birds: After a lengthy break from full-on birding I want to get back into it next year. My time spent on the local patches has been, well, patchy. My two visits to Dungeness in the past fortnight has rekindled my enthusiasm and I want to reaquaint myself with species that I have not seen for literally years, and some of them are quite common.

Plants: I have so far gathered an image base of approx 275 species. I would like to get this up to the 500 species mark. Most of this 'clicking of shutter' will take place in southern England, and a hit list will be drawn up of places to visit and species to see. Last year I nominated Bog Orchid as my 'must see' plant. I will now nominate Wild Gladiolus (necessitating a trip to the New Forest at the very least). I will also aim to record 1,000 species in the calendar year - not scientific, but a lot of fun.

Moths: I have neglected the garden a little this year, so must try harder with the MV. It only takes a minute to walk out of the back door and switch it on! My desire to tackle micros is always supressed, but this is an area that I need to just grab by the antennae.

Other: I've asked Father Christmas for the new Mosses and Liverworts fieldguide, so I will promise to make attempts to identify the commoner species (if he brings it to me - I've been a good boy, honest!). Fungi is a group that fascinate me, so I will search out a decent field guide so as to stop me from posting pictures on this blog every five minutes asking for help.

2010 - it looks so futuristic, doesn't it?

What are these please

I took the two pictures (above), this afternoon at the edge of woodland on the chalky North Downs close to Reigate. My limited fungi ID book suggests a few possibilities, but beyond that I am stumped as to what they actually are. I do know that some visitors to this blog have more than a passing interest in such things, and am hopeful that someone might be able to kindly put me out of my misery and suggest firm identifications to them both. I really do need a better guide...

Egrets, I've had a few

Great White Egret, Glossy Ibis (2), Cattle Egret, Little Egrets (many), Penduline Tit (3), Marsh Harrier (up to a dozen) - all these birds have been seen on the RSPB reserve at Dungeness over the past couple of days. It's mid to late November for goodness sake and more typical of a day on a southern Mediterranean wetland. I took myself down there this morning and had a fine old time seeing the GWE at distance (see dodgy digiscoped poor excuse of a picture), was entertained by the mobile ibis twins and spent too much time looking at empty bulrush heads where Penduline Tits had been feasting only a matter of 48 hours before. However, to make up for that, and for the stay-away Cattle Egret, I saw a couple of Ravens (good down south) and also found a Water Pipit.

It was staggeringly warm. A blustery southerly wind helped keep the temperature up, but even so, I was marching around in a sleeveless body warmer showing off bare arms, and had to take off several layers of clothing as the day progressed. For a southern softie, this was Iron Man stuff. 3 Common Darters were still on the wing, my latest ever.

Failed patches

Have you ever come across an area, surveyed it with that knowing birders' eye and declared to yourself "This will make a cracking patch"? I have. Several times. And several times they have fallen flat on their ornithological arses. Maybe some of you have a built-in radar that can sift the good ornithological wheat from the naff birding chaff. I clearly do not.

Example 1. Hill top cemetery on the North Downs, full of shrubs and mature trees and also next door to open downland. A shoe-in for Firecrest, Yellow-broweds and Pied Flys I thought. Net result: frustrated sessions dodging funeral parties and trying not to look suspicious. No good birds.

Example 2. Dungeness is very well watched indeed. I, along with a small band of like-minded dimwits decided to open up new areas of identical shingle to the one already intensively birded to the north and north-west. Net result: the whole of autumn 1990 spent flogging low gorse and broom bushes to count the same Whinchat over and over again.

Example 3. A well scrubbed and oh so picturesque section of the north downs with steep scarp and ideal vis-mig lookout points. Net result: three years and counting of waiting for large raptors, cranes, storks, ravens, bee-eaters, Alpine Swifts and the such to fly through. And waiting...and waiting...

So, if I ever come and bird in your area and suggest that you really ought to look in a particular spot because it has potential, walk in the other direction. Ignore me. Tell me to go away.

King of the Thrushes

56% of the hundreds who voted, (OK, all 27 of you) went for the Fieldfare as the smartest British thrush. I was pleased that all the species clocked up at least 2 votes, with Redwing coming in second place with 19%. Such comments as "Wot no Ring Ouzel - Anon" and "Varied Thrush, it's on my list - AGripper" were ignored. The image above has come from Flickr, courtesy of Sergei.

Talking of thrushes, one incident early in my birding life has stuck with me. I was at Dungeness (wasn't I always) and saw a Little Owl take out a Mistle Thrush. Enthusing about this later, a birder practically broke down, lamenting that the "alien invader had taken down one of our fine British thrushes". I've never thought of the Mistle Thrush in the same light ever since.

Now, if I were to ask you to vote for the best British thrush songster, I reckon the percentage levels would be very different. I for one would go with the Blackbird. I do not think that I have ever heard a Fieldfare in full song, so maybe should hold back and go and listen to one on the internet before announcing my choice. I bet, however, that it is a raspy old number.

I'd love this as a patch

Just look at the picture above. A fair-sized lake just set back from a shingle beach, cut off from the sea by scrubby grassland. It is positioned in a small valley between cliffs. Placed just northwards of Prawle Point and Start Point on the south Devon coast. I stumbled upon this vision of patch perfection when botanising in the area back in June. I stare at this photo often, dreaming of Whiskered Terns hawking over the water, with Black-winged Stilts beneath. I can visualise Alpine Swifts drifting over as Bee-eaters purr nearby. Every five years or so a yankee passerine will haunt the trees in the small village (which has a single pub). If I lived within an hours drive of this place I'd be down there every weekend, but it would take me at least three and a half on a good run. The name of this piece of birding heaven? Beesands. Click on the image to make it bigger and join me in giving the possible rewards of birding this area your best educated guesses.

Reservoir Cats

Please take a moment to visit the latest addition to my 'Blog List', that of Reservoir Cats, the work of one Mr White. As long as we don't all end up shooting each other in a garage...

One of those weekends

One of those frustrating weekends actually. By 08.30 I was in the car and heading towards Dungeness with its assorted egrets, ibis and stuff. I got onto the M25 to only find it closed further along and so I queued up to get off. Then the driver of another marooned car pointed towards one of my back wheels. An hour later I could finally check the said wheel (70% flat tyre) and slowly drove to the nearest garage. Once I'd re-inflated it, the air seemed to want to stay in, but I couldn't risk the 90 mile journey. So, two hours after leaving home, and only ten miles travelled, I returned to base.

In the quest for brownie points and getting one of the long list of the dreaded 'jobs' ticked off, I carried on painting the bathroom that I'd started yesterday. It all looked pretty good - apart from the nagging doubt that the paint colour was a bit too dark - a thought shared by Mrs G. It looks like I'll have to do a repeat performance with the paint brush next weekend.

So, to sum up this weekend, the need for a boiler service, two days of decorating, an abandoned birding trip, and quite possibly a new tyre needed. I mustn't complain, there's far worse going on in peoples lives, but this is one of those times when I feel that I'm trying to herd cats while pushing water uphill.

Oh, and as I'm typing this, my wife has just announced that part of the wooden back door in rotting...

Radio Times

A recent post of mine about the apparent decline of the Isles of Scilly as an autumn birding destination was picked up on by the kind folk from Radio Scilly. I was subsequently interviewed by Beth Hilton from the station where I was asked to explain my thoughts on the subject. Having not set foot on the said islands since 1981, I did explain to her that there were far better placed people to ask - however, I could pass on the observations of several friends who have recently been and who have also recently stopped going. It seems that the October birding boom has significantly shrunk to the point that boat owners, publicans, hoteliers, B&B proprieters and restauranteurs on Scilly have not only noticed, but are asking the question as to whether it will ever return. Cost is cited as a major turn-off for prospective visitors - I think that even major price-slashing on the part of all concerned might not be enough to bring back the cash cow that was the October birder boom. Those who made money on the islands in the golden period of the 70's - 90's never knew that they were enjoying a short-lived phenomena. The vast numbers may not return, but birds will still prolong the islands tourist season beyond what other areas in the UK expect.