NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

Listing is a large part of many birders lives. To some, it gives them a reason for getting involved and too the unlucky few it is their reason for being. They feel as if it defines them. It is easy to be 'sniffy' about the whys and wherefores of keeping lists if you are not that way inclined, but, to a certain extent, we all get sucked into it. I have. And at a certain level, I still am. But when you look at it, listing is an area in which you can never truly be fulfilled. It is an itch that will always need scratching. Even a moderate lister, particularly if in an arena where others around you (say a patch) are listing too, will find the wheels of fortune sending you into moments of highs and others of lows. Today's self-found Wryneck will be forgotten when next weeks dipped Bluethroat rears its ugly head. It is like running up a very long down escalator. You will never have the energy to reach the top. The best you can hope for is to reach a speed at which you will st...

Yesterday's retro post about Beddington Sewage Farm - (note: NOT Farmlands) - got me reminiscing even further. I have posted about the birding before, but the people who populated my early memories have barely got a mention. It is time to rectify this. These were times before the reign of the Messenbirds and Alfreys. When I first set foot on the 'hallowed acres' there was a regular, loyal set of observers - Derek Coleman, Nick Gardner, John Bacon, John Dalgliesh, Bill Blake, Keith Mitchell, Martin King, John Gent, Dave Eland, Stuart Holdsworth to name but a few - but the two who took me under their wing and influenced me beyond all others were Ken Parsley and Mike Netherwood. Ken and Mike were primarily bird ringers, and two-three times a week would turn up at the sewage farm with the express intention of trapping birds. The Beddington Ringing Group had been a flourishing concern back in the 1960s, but by the mid 1970s it fell to just these two men. I joined them as a t...

Late July will, for me, forever be linked to the old Beddington Sewage Farm. Back in the mid to late 70s, there were a series of settling beds scattered right across the farm, looking just like this: The example above is of one of the larger beds, and many were half, or even a quarter of this size. They all shared the raised banks, wide enough for two birders to walk along side by side, but in late July it was a struggle for even one of us to make headway along them, thanks to the copious amounts of vegetation - back then it was just all green stuff that got in the way, but in later years I realised that it was mainly Hemlock, Goose-grass and Stinging Nettle. The smell, especially on a hot day, was pungent - a mixture of sewage effluent (not as bad as you might think) and rank vegetation. Hemlock, en masse, does have a distinctive, earthy whiff. Some beds were filled with water, and these at this time of year were not what we sought. We would winkle out those beds that were dryi...

There comes a time in life when you have to admit that you are not a youngster any more. And I don't mean those 'life' milestones such as learning to drive, going to the pub or having children. I'm talking about creaking joints, getting up in the night for a pee, needing reading glasses, wearing 'comfortable' rather than 'fashionable' clothing, not knowing how to operate technological gadgets, repeating yourself, and, of course, repeating yourself. But above all, the one that gives the game away and tells you that, yes indeed, you are getting old, is becoming a member of the National Trust. Visiting their properties. And cooing over the flower beds - pointing out what grows well here but not in your garden - and don't those dahlias look lovely! Just like I did yesterday. For all those of you who are in a similar position, please accept a few filler pictures of said flower beds (left). Taken whilst drinking tea, eating banana cake, and looking o...

Today, Katrina and I visited Wakehurst Place, Kew Gardens 'annexe' in West Sussex. It is here that the Millennium Seed Bank is held, where over 2 billion seeds are stored and the national collections of several plant families are maintained. As much as the manicured flower beds, walled gardens and arboretums are wonderful to behold and lose yourself in, this post mainly deals with the 'wild' side of the gardens. At the northern end of Wakehurst is a designated nature reserve which encompasses part of the Loder Valley. A single observation hide overlooks a wooded lake, a sizeable area of reed and bulrush has a raised walkway through its middle and the waterside vegetation is truly wild. An antidote to the manicured and alien world to the south... although, the gardens themselves have plenty of wild areas left, be they un-mown banks full of wild flowers or large open meadows, as can be seen from the images below. Red Campion, Corn Chamomile and Tufted Vetch abounds!...

Langley Vale Farm turned on the spectacle again today, with the No Home field an unbroken sea of Wild Carrot (above). A few weeks ago it was a blizzard of Ox-eye Daisy, a few weeks before that it bled with Red Campion (below). Such expanse of colour is truly memorable - and, unlike the industrial quantity colour hits of crops such as Rape or Flax, these wild flower meadows are more of a natural artistic statement. Last year this same field was dominated by Common and Opium Poppies, and they are much reduced in number this time round. I wonder what will flower in profusion next year? The Woodland Trust are behind this field turning on the botanical spectacle, as they laid down a seed mix in 2014. Sometimes an insect stops you in your tracks. This afternoon, at Gatton Park, this hoverfly, Volucella pellucens , did exactly that.

Channel View is a run-down dwelling that can be found on the beach at Dungeness, close to the new lighthouse. Last October I was lucky enough to find (or re-find) a Dusky Warbler in the vegetation just SW of the property, and the bird stayed for several days, loyal to the tamarisks and brambles in Channel View's front garden (when not in the nearby beach scrub). A constant stream of admirers passed through, standing around the edge of the abandoned building, waiting to hear the tacking call and latch on to the fleeting views of the warbler. Ever since then, when I visit the shingle, I search the same area I have described above, with the joy of that discovery still fresh in my mind. So I was more than interested to see this post on one of the Dungeness-themed websites. I just hope that they haven't grubbed out the Dusky Warbler friendly garden!!