NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

Now that there are a number of birders self-isolating, whether enforced or otherwise, several projects have sprung up to feed the collective ornithological soul. One of them stems from Italy, a country in widely enforced lock-down. The hashtag 'BWKM0' has been created by ornithologists as a means of both collecting data and fostering camaraderie (usefully explained by Paul Tout in a tweet): This hashtag is now being adopted across the world, as a sign of solidarity with our European neighbours and as a recognition that we, in the UK, should also be reducing our own birding footprint to help lessen the possible spread of Corvid19. I have started my own #BWKM0 list and will be tweeting out some sightings over the coming weeks. As much as a balcony, garden or window is, to some, a poor substitute for a sea-scape or headland, concentrated or regular observations from anywhere can be productive. My own garden has provided me with big thrush and hirundine movements, Spoonbil...

Number 2 - June 1974 - a Jay on a lawn The prologue - in a fourth form art lesson, our teacher, Mr Jeffries, suggested that we paint a picture on the theme of 'Conflict' - cue many 14-15 year-old lads producing works depicting blood, violence and death. But for one of them it was a chance to paint something of his favourite subject, that of natural history. I stood behind Mark Greenway as he placed the finishing touches of poster paint to the cartridge paper. His work depicted a cat on a garden lawn, paw swiping the air just missing a fleeing bird. The bird in flight was exotic and highly colourful. I assumed that it was a parrot and asked him what such a bird was doing in such a domestic setting. "It's no parrot", came his reply, "it's called a Jay". He then explained to me that Jays were quite common birds and it was more than likely that I'd see one in my garden. I was no birdwatcher, but scoffed at such a claim - after all, even I would h...

As a simple way of filling dead 'cyber space' and out of sheer personal indulgence, 1974 launches a series of 'years in the natural history life of one S W Gale'. I won't be surprised, or offended, if you stop reading right now and go off in search of something far more worthwhile. It all began during an art lesson at Sutton Grammar School, Surrey, in the spring of 1974. We had been given the subject of 'Conflict' to illustrate. Most of us were up to our elbows in poster paint trying to work up life-like images of warfare. However, a  fellow pupil's work had caught my eye as he had been far more original than the rest of us and was painting a garden scene of a cat pouncing at an improbably coloured bird that was flying just out of paw's reach. I asked him if the bird was a parrot. No, he replied, it was a Jay. He also told me that I could see one in my back garden if I kept a look out. Nonsense, I said, sheer bloody nonsense... Maybe two weeks l...