NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

Epsom Downs (plus the adjoining Walton Downs) has an ornithological history that has been documented -  in fits and starts - over the years, from the Victorian bird-catchers up to the (very few) 21st-century observers of which I am one of that number. My own time 'up on the downs' has been rather sporadic, but has rewarded me, with Arctic Skua, Quail, Honey Buzzard and Osprey the headliners. There have also been times when good numbers of birds revealed themselves to me while on the move, most strikingly the amazing Stonechat passage of early-October 2022 that peaked at 65+ on 6th with up to three Dartford Warblers in tow. Days of notable swift, pipit and hirundine visible migration have also been enjoyed.  Last autumn I dedicated a few days to staking out the skies above these downs which, although lacking in ideal weather conditions, still provided numbers that suggested that a more concerted effort would be rewarding - a few sessions with southerly passage of Meadow Pipits ...

Four consecutive mornings have seen me setting up shop on Epsom Downs to do a bit of skywatching - or vis-migging to be more precise - the dark art of counting migrating birds as they pass overhead. I find this form of birding most relaxing and full of surprises. It is a bit like an inland form of seawtaching as you just keep still and let the conveyor belt of birds come to you. Even on the quietest of days it is rewarding. Mid-to-late autumn is the busiest time of the year to engage, so I have been full of hope that rewards (however modest) would come my way. And they have. The position that I take up (as can be seen in the photo above) looks northwards towards the race course buildings, and gives me uninterrupted views all round, including sight-lines into the dips that can otherwise hide low-flying birds. So far it has confirmed that hirundines and pipits move across the area on a broad-front, with any obvious concentrated streams of birds easy to pick out. I believe that when the t...

The Beatles sang "I've got to admit it's getting better..." and I could say the same about the local birding over the past week. Redwings, after a winter of having gone missing, have suddenly appeared, with 300+ present on rank grassland/woodland within 800m from home last week and up to 360 feeding on Walton Downs horse paddocks this afternoon. My first decent sized group of Stonechats of the spring decided to show themselves on Epsom Downs (this afternoon) with six birds (four males, two females) that only encouraged head-scratching from myself in my trying to age and assign them to a subspecies - as one male was so much paler on the underparts than the others (a cleaner orange, clear white and dark black head, pictured above) and one of the females was brighter and cleaner than the other. I've read up, but am none the wiser. Maybe best to leave alone. A walk across Epsom and Walton Downs earlier today also rustled up three displaying Lapwing (a sound I never ti...

Yesterday I was walking back home from Epsom Town centre when I passed a gateway - a gateway that I have walked on by over the years - and noticed that the substantial field on the other side was being cut, the grass neatly piled and baled. My birding brain kicked in with "I bet there will be a Wheatear or two on top of those bales before the day is out" and I found myself back on site later that evening - no Wheatear, but at least six Common Buzzards were gathered, no doubt taking advantage of the recently cut grass to forage for food. I returned early this afternoon, and, joy of joys, two Wheatears were on show, along with seven Common Buzzards and a Red Kite. And there was more, for I went back two hours later and the Wheatears had been joined by three Whinchats! Now, this field is largely unbirdable, with private housing, a railway station and a mature Hawthorn hedgerow keeping observations down to the previously mentioned gateway - or so I thought. I have found a couple ...

The afternoon was spent sheltering under trees - my walk, across Epsom and Walton Downs, was a wet affair. Who can remember when it used to just rain? Our precipitation now seems to come in two flavours - none, or deluge. The calcareous footpaths that I was wandering along became chalk streams within minutes, my footwear soaked through. A Yew became a refuge for over 30 minutes, where I was able to feel very wet and surprisingly cold as I looked out at an ever darkening sky. Even when brightness seemed to hold the ascendency another nasty belt of rain rushed in on a brisk north-westerly, sending me to scurry back to my shelter. During one of these periods of incarceration, a Silver-washed Fritillary floated past, alighting nearby. It didn't seem bothered by the rain, and allowed me to spend a few moments in its company. I then let it be, marvelling that such a delicate insect should be able to stay exposed to the heavy rain with seemingly little consequence. It was making far less ...

Since I swore off birding locally I have been birding locally (apart from the escape to the South Downs on Tuesday). That is quite typical of me, full of declarations, plans and ideas that somehow go to pot within the blink of an eye. And how quiet these sessions have been! Scarcely a migrant to be had, even after hours of scouring the fields, hedges and copses of Epsom and Walton Downs, full of hope, topped up with patience and a resolve not to go home empty handed. And to a lesser degree it has been a success. Each session has ended with at least a handful of Wheatear, once a male Common Redstart and on three occasions a male Ring Ouzel (all different birds). This afternoon I was near the end of a sunny, breezy, and birdless session (not even a Wheatear), when this popped up in front of me... I will never tire of Ring Ouzels. For us southerners they are just passage migrants, and you've had a good day when you are graced with their presence. So, the lesson is clear. Keep on ploug...

I had the birding-bit between my teeth this morning and was standing on Box Hill shortly after dawn. The weather forecast from the previous evening had intimated that this part of Surrey might get clipped by the odd, short, wintery shower. The large bank of low cloud that I could see quickly arriving from the west suggested a bit more than just a few minutes of sleet, and so it proved... A benign dawn, just about to give way to that bank of cloud arriving from the right... Incoming! Little visibility and certainly no birds on the move I huddled underneath a Yew tree that was able to still afford me good panoramic views, but these views waxed and waned, as did the snow fall. I stuck it out for 90 minutes, but the sky to the west remained resolutely hidden behind a low, grey, snow-filled murk. Tail between my legs, I trudged back to the car. Steve 0 Birding fail 1. The sun came out late morning, the snow did one, and even if the air temperature was still decidedly chilly, it felt spring-...

I like Wheatears. They're the best. So when the fair county of Surrey has a day when these delightful 'white-arses' are being widely observed in decent numbers I need little encouragement to get out in the field and count them. But, like all good things, they will not just appear in front of you on demand. A certain amount of toil is needed to be rewarded. I have three Wheatear hotspots close to home, but not all of them played ball. Canons Farm - no Wheatear. Priest Hill - no Wheatear. Epsom Downs - eight Wheatear! All but one on the race course itself. Seven males and a female. Mockingbird? No, as much as I can understand why many birders wanted to go and see one, give me a Wheatear any day of the week. In fact, give me several...

...happened so fast. After a few hours stomping around Epsom Downs, a male Wheatear appeared close to the grandstand, that made for a good end to the birding session. More to come in the next few days hopefully.

At the moment my birding time is not, in my opinion, being fairly rewarded, beyond that of being able to see the totally expected. In an ideal world that wouldn't matter, as it should be enough just to be out in the open and accept whatever comes along. However, currently that doesn't work for the ‘spoilt brat’ within me, and I am starting to think that the birding Gods are not on my side. So I plod on, waiting for that eureka moment that is surely getting closer!  Almost an all-dayer today, split between Epsom Downs and Canons Farm, both sites unrewarding. With a few Mediterranean Gulls being picked up across the county I was on high alert, but few 'smaller' gulls were on show. Apart from a group of Herring Gulls on the race course, most were high and overhead. It is always worth checking anything on the deck here, but nothing warranted a second look. The picture above has, in the foreground, one of the hummocky-strips that contours the race course on the southern flan...

I’ve been avoiding Epsom Downs because most of the good people of north Surrey seem to empty themselves onto the open grassland there, accompanied by dogs, bikes, bubble buddies, non bubble buddies, Lycra, kites, balls, scooters, horses, rucksacks, thermos flasks and those odd walking poles. Today I decided to (sort of) join them with my binoculars. It is a large enough area to be able to get away from the throng, and I spent a pleasant enough couple of hours on the southern flank. Undoubted highlight was a group of c20 Golden Plovers that moved through northwards, surprising in as much as such a sighting here would normally go hand-in-glove with hard weather. Able back-up came in the guise of a Peregrine. Apart from these birds however it really is very quiet. This lockdown 3km is hard work, but it isn’t as though there is anywhere else for me to go.

When the Woodland Trust purchased Langley Bottom Farm several years ago, it most probably saved this corner of the Surrey downs from becoming yet another golf course or, worse still, a housing estate. The farmland of the north downs has always struggled to provide well, with the dry chalky soil riddled with flints and it does not carry much value. Langley Bottom Farm had been cared for sympathetically, with a good arable flora and set-aside strips and game cover present that catered for a small shoot. Lapwings still bred on three fields and a good population of Skylarks were present all year round. Small copses had been left alone, and much of the hedgerow was deep and ancient. Needless to say, when the Woodland Trust revealed their plans for the farm, and of their intention to plant it with trees to create a commemorative wood, the local naturalists were concerned. After several meetings with interested parties a compromise was agreed. Open fields would be left for the Lapwings, and a...

Not the hedgerow mentioned in the text, but one of many to check across the site Seeing that most of us are adhering to lockdown rules, our birding footprint has become a much smaller one, modestly centred around our homes. I have become slightly obsessed with what I can hope to find on Epsom and Walton Downs, especially as I can easily walk there in 20 minutes, and the furthest point is only a further 30 minutes on from there. Canons Farm is a similar distance, and a place where I have had far more birding success, but it is the former site that is interesting me at the moment - and I do tend to think of it  - Epsom and Walton Downs - as one site, even though cartographers may argue otherwise. The farm fields and copses flow across the boundary lines, as do the Skylarks, thrushes and chats. Historically E&W Downs have thrown up good birds and good counts. During the 1960s and 70s they were actively covered and the Surrey Bird Reports of the time make interesting reading. My ow...

Another lockdown walk from home saw me scouring the fields, copses and downland across Epsom and Walton. Yet again it was underwhelming. Very few birds seem to be wintering here, certainly not the expected numbers of finches and thrushes during the winter months. Even the Skylarks, which numbered 125+ only last week, have dwindled away. So, thank goodness for Stonechats! One of my favourite species at any time of the year, but when you have them performing on a grey and dreary morning, when there appears to be little else on offer, they become even more special. Last Sunday I had found a pair, lurking with the sheep, down in a fold in the hills on the border of Epsom and Walton Downs. Two days ago they had enticed another male to join them. This morning, all three were still present and correct. Or were they? On looking closely at the female, I could see that it was ringed - the female that I had watched earlier in the week had not been. So, either this is a new bird (and the other has...

A hard frost with a large helping of fog greeted me at dawn this morning. A route-march up onto Epsom Downs soon had me warm, and a quick circuit across the race-course and the fields of Walton Downs provided the following highlights: 8 Red-legged Partridge, 70+ Skylark and a pair of Stonechats. The male of the latter was ringed - I cannot get anything on the inscription, but it looks like a newish BTO-type band. I'd like to think that it was ringed by those kind people at Dungeness Bird Observatory, and it has quite rightly decided to pay this corner of Surrey a visit... The vegetation remained resolutely iced, frosted, hoary and rimed. Rather invigorating.

  Birding lockdown walk (number one) was a circular affair from home, looping across Epsom and Walton Downs, then onto Walton Heath. Very quiet, with the birds coming in sudden bursts - 125 Skylarks across two fields, 30 Meadow Pipits in a flock, a pair of Stonechats, plus maybe 60 Fieldfares and 150 Redwing (above). Botanical highlight was my annual visit to the (expanding) patch of Green Hellebore in a copse on Walton Downs (below). Not much of it was in flower. If I had have found a Little Bunting, or Great Grey Shrike, or Black-throated Thrush, I wouldn't really have been able to announce it, what with all the restrictions currently in place. So when I do, you won't know. If I have already, I couldn't say...

There is definitely 'something of the night' about me - not in a vampiric reference such as that famously made about Michael Howard by Ann Widdecombe a few years ago. As twilight starts to assert its authority over the daylight I do get a certain boost - sound and vision is heightened, smells and touch are turned up a notch. It isn't unlike the turning down of the house lights in a theatre or cinema, a prelude to something special. This afternoon saw me walk up onto Epsom Downs, timing my journey so that, as I strolled down Chalk Lane - which for about a mile travels through horse paddocks and copses - I would reach the bottom of the hill in darkness. The paddocks are large and stretch back a fair way. I used to hear Little Owls here with some regularity, but they have gone from this side of the downs, to be replaced by those raucous buggers, Ring-necked Parakeets. Hardly seems a fair swap to me. This evening all that could be heard was a singing Song Thrush and a calling R...

Epsom Downs is less than a mile - south-west - from our house. I have spent more time here looking at the flora rather than the birds, although ornithologically it does come up with the odd highlight. Being at height, it commands rather fine views looking northwards, taking in the Chiltern Hills and, especially, London (see above). It looks ripe for being a worthwhile vismig spot. Much to my shame I have not really given it a fair go in this department, although I have experienced a few days of good hirundine and pipit passage while sitting in the 'lookout' car park, and during the Honey Buzzard autumn of 2000 saw a group of four birds pass overhead. This morning, with Common Swifts having been recorded passing west of me, I decided to get myself up there and give it another go. Epsom Downs is a large site, but even so has remarkably few places that afford clear, unbroken views - the heavy undulations in the landscape are the reason for this. However, the 'lookout'...

I'm fast turning into a twilight junky - not the teen literary phenomenon, but the hour of daylight before the night closes in. It's packed with bird action! Each autumn I spend a bit of time checking up on known thrush and corvid roosts (and trying to locate others). You really need to stay scanning in such situations until you can see no more - some birds will not enter a roost until it is pitch black. It is at this time that you get to know a patch really well. The fading light throws familiar ground into strange perspectives. Sound travels further. Your senses are heightened. This evening was a case in point. I stood on the Epsom Downs gallops looking across and down onto Walton Downs. The most obvious sound was that of Jackdaws, with at least 775 gathering and going to roost, along with 300 Carrion Crows that somehow slunk off earlier and without fanfare. As the light bled from the day a few Redwing started to circle, then a tight flock of 40 fell out of the sky and swoo...

Sometimes it is the simplest of things that can arrest you. A frosty morning had largely been burnt off by the warm sunshine, but there were one or two frost hollows on Epsom Downs that are just that touch colder than the surrounding land. Whilst walking across a mixed ploughed/stubbly field, a twinkling from the ground alerted me to the iced chunks of chalk on the surface, not unlike large un-cut diamonds. It was some sight, a veritable carpet of jewels laid out across the Surrey downland. Bird wise it was a fair session, with a minimum of 135 Skylarks in the Epsom/Walton Downs area (including a flock of 70), plus a surprise flushed Common Snipe and seven Red-legged Partridges. Thrush numbers have fallen even further. STOP PRESS I've just noticed that this is ND&B's 200th post of the year - where does all this drivel come from? Four out of the past five years have now hit the 200+ posts. I obviously have too much time on my hands, suffer from Tourette's of the ...