NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

May 16th     Day 6     13.6k walked     96 species cumulative total An afternoon session at Holmethorpe SP which had me covering the whole area via the many footpaths, also taking in the open, grassy Nutfield Ridge, which commands fine views across the sand workings, refuse tip and nearby North Downs. It was at this latter site that a group of nine Red Kites were watched, wheeling above the refuse tip as they joined the gathered scavenging corvids. They were not the only raptor highlight, with three Hobby hunting newly emerging odonata above Spynes Mere and the neighbouring Mercer's Farm, where the majority of the 80+ Sand Martins were found, along with a handful of Swifts and House Martins. A Lapwing, two Common Terns, a Sedge Warbler, a Lesser Whitethroat, two Garden Warblers and a Yellowhammer were further highlights. May 17th     Day 7    33.9k walked     103 species cumulative total A big day as far as shoe leather was con...

Last year, at the end of May, I took the decision to have a natural-history themed holiday at home, rather than go to the expense and faff of travelling elsewhere. As I've gotten older my wish to remain close to home has strengthened and my curiosity as to what can be found 'from my doorstep' increased. It was a rewarding exercise - I left the car at home and walked miles each day, sometimes exploring footpaths that were unknown to me - and although the birding was quiet (it was early June) some plant and insect discoveries were notable. So, it it was so much fun, why not do it again? And this time, being mid-May, why not just make it about the birds... Surrey birds! There was one change however, and that was that I would use the car at times to head out south-westwards to explore parts of the county that I had no visited for a long, long time. With such thoughts being energising, I expectantly waited for the starting gun to sound, announcing the start of my 10 day Surrey B...

They say a change is as good as a rest, so rather than visit one of my many local patches, yesterday afternoon I took myself off to the Greensand Ridge of southern Surrey. It is an area that I do know in parts but have not visited for several years. Armed with the trusty OS map, I parked at Friday Street and made my way to Leith Hill via a number of footpaths, some that I had walked before and others that were unfamiliar. Several loops were taken in the name of 'exploration', a good couple of hours were spent on the open heathland of Duke's Warren (above), with the whole expedition ending with a magical strike out northwards from Broadmoor along the achingly beautiful Tilling Bourne valley. I have a confession to make. I'm not a great fan of the Greensand nor heathland. As I walked across, up and down the said area in question, I quizzed myself as to why that was. My most obvious dislike is of conifer plantations, especially when they are planted on dry, sandy soil. The...

There is something quite decadent about birding from your own garden. No need to get up at some ridiculously early hour. No need to get in the car and drive away to add to the traffic congestion and air pollution. Cups of tea whenever you want one. And toast - don't forget the toast... This morning saw the latest in my concerted effort to sky watch the first one-two hours of the day from home. It has been going quite well, with even the quietest days providing at least Chaffinches and Redwings to look at. I love that half-light, especially on a still morning, when the lonely 'pink' of a Chaffinch, or 'siiip' of a Redwing sends shivers down my spine. It heralds the start of another ornithological lucky dip, another chance to scrutinise the conveyor belt of birds. What of today? Best bird was a calling Woodlark, a garden first, heard twice as it flew west but remained unseen. Close behind was a single Lapwing, now an irregular sighting here in Banstead. Also recor...

A grey dawn, flat calm, with a red gash on the horizon where the sun was largely hidden. Apart from the odd Brambling, Siskin and Song Thrush, little was on the move. The bushes were similarly quiet, with just a smattering of Chiffchaffs and Goldcrests, spiced up by the odd Blackcap and Firecrest. But in truth, it was all going on - going on way above our heads. You needed to look directly up and use binoculars, but when doing so, secrets were revealed, like the focusing of a microscope to see the hidden detail. A steady trickle of passerines was underway, silently heading to as yet decided destinations - some were identified to family - finches, pipits, wagtails, thrushes - yet others were too high to be able to do even that. To look beyond these birds was to reveal a further flyway and to accept that we were not meant to be privy to what was happening above us. Sound would not reach us from up there, so our viewing was of a colourless silent movie. Fortunately for us two Woodlark, sh...

The heavy overnight rain had weakened by dawn, but it was still necessary to don the wet-weather gear to go out into the recording area. The hoped for grounding of migrants was modest to say the least, but not without its highlights. In the trapping area a very close, head-high owl, was flushed from a sallow bush. It alighted some 40m away in full view, looking at me with blazing orange eyes and raised ear-tufts - a Long-eared! A couple of hours later a Woodlark flew south, tail-less in silhouette and yodelling of call. A hat-trick of highlights came courtesy of a late Common Whitethroat, that stayed loyal to a particular bank of brambles, although I didn't see it until my fourth attempt. No two days are ever the same here...

It's funny how birds that 'come your way' do so with a great fat dollop of chance. This afternoon I went to Canons Farm and decided to park on the eastern boundary of the recording area in Holly Lane West - I normally park on the opposite side. Because of that decision I found myself walking across a stubble field that ordinarily I wouldn't even look at (for those that do detail this particular field has been christened Pipit Field). Three passerines got up in front of me and quickly settled again. Through binoculars I couldn't immediately see them so I slowly edged closer, more in hope than expectation. After a couple of minutes one came into view, followed by the other two. Each bird's generous supercillium that met on the nape (in a 'V') gave the identification game up quite quickly as three smart Woodlarks paraded in front of me. I didn't need to use my scope that hung redundantly by my side as they were very close. Then the farce started. I kn...