NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

To be honest, that headline claim of 4,000 is not correct - 3,970 is the actual figure and that is the number of species that I have identified in the United Kingdom, my pan-species total. There are some people who will ask why I bother to count up the number of species that I have recorded, what does it mean in the grand scheme of things and my reply to that will be somewhat cryptic - it means absolutely nothing and absolutely everything in equal measure. Absolutely nothing? Just look around at the social and political landscape of the world at the moment and tell me that my seeing a new species of nomad bee this week means anything at all. Absolutely everything? Without us recording what species are present and where they occur we cannot possibly have a baseline to inform ourselves on the state of the planet's wildlife - and, as just a single species on this planet's surface we are no more important than a weevil, smut or lacewing.  My current embrace of all things non-bird, ...

One evening, many years ago, I was in a pub with work colleagues when out of the blue one of them stood up (slightly the worse for wear) and let rip in a strong, deep, Northern Irish voice: "It's alright for you feckers, you know where you come from. Me? I've got a Belgian father, a French mother, was brought up in Belfast and have lived most of my adult life in London. What does that make me? Who the feck am I?" He had a point. He didn't feel an affiliation to any one single place, let alone a country. It got me thinking, and 35 years later I still think back to that outburst and how, when I came to consider the question of belonging, realised that I too would find it hard to pin myself firmly to one spot. The more time I spent weighing up the past the stronger came the realisation that I had in fact attached myself to several. The ease with which I have done so suggests that I'm easily persuaded and that my patronage is not hard to secure. Shall we look at t...

Monday 12th April 1976 was when I first trod on the Kentish Dungeness shingle and walked through the front door of the world famous bird observatory (pictured above). I had arrived to become a participating member of an RSPB residential course which was being lead by the society's investigations officer Peter Robinson. Little did I know at the time that I was about to embark on a lifetime's infatuation with all things Dungeness. I have written an awful lot about my time at Dungeness, much of it scattered throughout this blog, so will try not to replicate it here. There was a time when there was nowhere else on Earth that I would rather be and although such manic devotion may have cooled down in recent years it is still a place that causes me to feel a swathe of emotions - happiness, inspiration, longing and, if I'm being really honest, a bit of sadness. My choice of visiting Dungeness was purely by chance - had the RSPB chosen to run that course at Sandwich Bay or Portland ...

Now here's the thing. Most of us who profess to being birders, botanists, coleopterists, dipterists, naturlahistoryists - call it what you like-er-ists - are more than aware of climate change. As observers and lovers of 'all that is wild' you would think that it would be an easy thing to cast aside anything and everything that would add fuel to the collapse of the environment as we now know it. We look, we observe, we record. It is blindingly obvious that our weather is all over the place; that the world's species are responding to this (and mostly in negative ways); that the human being is responsible for such an acceleration in this change; that only sudden changes in the way that we behave can slow this behemoth down. And even then such changes might not amount to anything other than being able to manoeuvre a dire outlook into a bad one. It needs 180 degree turns, lifestyle changes, a reassessment of what we do and how we do it.  Yet... How many of us can honestly sa...

When I first visited Dungeness Bird Observatory I became aware of a band of birders that were unlike any other birders that I had so far met in my formative years of birdwatching. They were all a few years older than me (mostly in their late-20s and early-30s) and appeared streetwise, long-haired, exotically dressed and could pepper their ornithological pronouncements with industrial language. I was impressed! I sought out their company, craved their approval and was slowly admitted into their orbit. But there was one of their number that was not present, who had drifted away from Dungeness to pioneer the vis-mig watches on the east-Kent coast at St. Margaret’s Bay. His name was Tony Greenland. It was not until 1979 that I met him, when he returned to visit Dungeness Bird Observatory (DBO) on a number of occasions throughout that year. I was slightly wary of his colourful reputation but we immediately got on like a house on fire - in fact he took me under his wing. That summer I was ac...

On the evening of 26 April 2022 I met up with fellow birder-cum-football fanatic Jake Everitt to watch the Sutton United v Crawley Town league clash. As we stood in the balmy sunshine, appreciating the home team's demolition of their West Sussex opposition (3-0 final score) we started to talk about the football grounds we had visited and - more pertinently - the species of bird we had seen while watching football. I was surprised to learn that there was another person barmy enough to keep a 'birds seen at football' list - I thought that I was alone in such a niche pastime. As it turned out Jake had been to many more grounds than me and also seen plenty more birds. My records of a Little Egret and Lapwing flying over Gander Green Lane just didn't cut it. There and then we decided to embark on a season-long competition (2022-23) to see who could record more species of bird from football grounds than the other, with the rules of combat being thrashed out. They were: The wi...

‘ Pan Species Listing - How to Become a Super-naturalist’ has recently been published by Pelagic and is authored by Graeme Lyons. Regular visitors to ND&B will be familiar with Graeme as his blog appears in my blog list (found to the left) and he has featured on these very pages more than once. I think that I can safely refer to Graeme as a friend as we have spent time in the field together on several occasions (including some one-to-one sessions) and have conversed on subjects beyond those of natural history. I was therefore more than intrigued to find out what form his book on the subject would take. When he told me that he had been commissioned to write it I assumed that it would be mainly about his personal journey - I was wrong. Having now read the book and lived with it for a few weeks I feel in a position to review it. Putting it simply, it is a book that all naturalists should invest in whether they are a pan-species lister or not. It might only be late March but I feel co...

On Monday morning I left Horsham town centre clutching an OS map of the area and headed out eastwards to explore. There was no agenda and no firm plan other than to follow my instincts and try to end up on the high ground west of Handcross. All the footpaths that I walked were unknown to me and so the habitat that I came across and the views that opened up before me were, by and large, surprises - a lucky dip kind of day. It is a wonderful way to get to know an area and any expectations that I might have harboured were exceeded! This ‘blind tasting’ is something that I will do more of. The habitat was characterised by wet woodland criss-crossed by many streams with accompanying pools and ponds. There were also several large medieval hammer ponds, the streams having been dammed to create the right conditions for the water to power huge hammers (which were built alongside accompanying furnaces) that pounded the iron-rich clay to extract the metal for the production of armaments. The sign...

Back in June 2010 I was walking along the banks of the River Mole, heading towards the Young Street Car Park from Mickleham. A series of fields between the river and railway line were usually left as grass, but on this occasion piles of farmyard waste had been dumped across them, transforming the normal green monoculture into an altogether stranger terrain. But what was most striking about this unexpected scene was the presence of a disturbing and exotic flower growing from the mounds - Henbane (pictured above and directly below). Like mini-Trifids they stood upright from the mud and mulch, the serrated and hairy leaves topped off by cream flowers, large lobed and netted with an intricate maroon-brown scribbling, at their centre a pool of dried blood. They exuded an other-worldliness. It was a species that I had longed to see but the erratic nature of their appearance had ensured that it had eluded me. Finally, thanks to the farmer's dumped soil I had connected! Dumped soil. Doesn...

This is the fourth in an occasional series looking at bird species that have fared well - and those not so well - across the uberpatch over the last 50-odd years. In some ways the Tree Sparrow has shown the greatest decline of all the birds in my 50+ years of birding across the uberpatch. From expected flocks of over 200 birds to none at all is some fall from grace, one that is all the harder to take as the Tree Sparrow was considered a flagship species - an icon even -  for Beddington SF. When I first trod the fields and sludge lagoons of this fabled sewage farm they were ubiquitous. Flocks were easy to come by, feeding on the seeds of fat-hen or grazing on the screening deposits that included filtered food particles, their chocolate brown crowns, black splurged cheeks and conversational chatter a welcome - and expected - part of any visit. They bred in the outbuildings and the holes in the concrete dykes. My peak counts of 200 all occurred in 1978 (25 February, 22 March and 26 No...

  "Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it."  Soren Kierkegaard I had found myself in an uncomfortable place. Maudlin and retrospective what with the impending first anniversary of my sister's passing; saddened at the recent loss of several of the birding community; still trying to shake off the effects of a virus that manifested itself back in mid-December; unable to inject some oomph into everyday life. No doubt that the recent largely grey and wet weather had not helped at all in my seeking out some sunny uplands. Yesterday I decided that, seeing as retail therapy does nothing for me, some walking therapy would do instead. At 06.30hrs I left the house with a vague route in mind, ignored the chilly and blustery westerly wind, put my best foot forward... and repeated t...

This blogging lark has hidden depths, one of them being the privilege of connecting with fellow bloggers in a far deeper way than just reading what they write and leaving the odd comment on their blog. I have, over the years, met up with several of them and corresponded on a more personal level with a few more. One of them was Dylan Wrathall. His blog 'Of Esox and observations' was a regular stop off of mine. At first glance it seemed to be mainly about fishing, something that I have not taken part in since I was a surly teenager being dragged along to a riverbank by my Dad and fishing brothers. But Dylan's reputation went far beyond that of an angler as he was a well-known Kent birder, who for a time tore across the county in pursuit of year list records, so I knew that there would be a fair number of ornithological nuggets to find, particularly from his home in Dumpton. And together with the posts about birds you'd also find those dealing with moths, butterflies, ins...

Vicarious: experiencing something indirectly through the actions, feelings, or experiences of another person, rather than doing it yourself To me, if you can happily live life by gaining pleasure from living vicariously then you have a pretty good life balance. Those that suggest that you need 'to do' in order to fulfil some sort of obligation that we owe to the universe are, in my mind, wide of the mark. These thoughts came back to me strongly recently and seemed ripe for a bit of bloggage... I have, and never will, surf. However, I am absolutely wrapped up in watching 'big wave' surfing videos (eg Riding Giants), binge-watching TV series (such as 100-foot Wave) and reading books (like Barbarian Days by William Finnegan) and can claim a fascination with all things extreme surfing. I will, I repeat, never surf and have no inclination to do so. Watching others do it, and do it with so much skill and bravado is enough for me. I can feed off of their excitement, feel their...

This is the third in an occasional series looking at bird species that have fared well - and those not so well - across the uberpatch over the last 50-odd years. I first set foot on Epsom Common (Surrey) in December 1974. I had been decanted from a bus that had stopped on the Ashtead Road, then followed a public footpath that took me over a railway line and on to an open area that was characterised by scrub, mature Silver Birch, muddy tracks and a fully-fledged woodland in the near distance. The photograph above was taken in February 2023 which, apart from the newly laid footpath, is a fairly good representation of what the area looked like 52 years ago, at least if you can imagine that the tree height was generally lower. Over the following two years this became one of my regular birding haunts, always coming onto the common from this direction and, more often than not, bringing me into contact with Willow Tits, regardless of the time of year. The nasal, slightly sneery call was a dea...

Birds on visible migration (vis-mig) can provide some of the most spectacular of ornithological experiences, so much so that there is a band of birders who dedicate their time to seeking out such events. I count myself as one of them albeit on a lower plane than the most obsessive of aficionados. It is a sub-sect of the birding family that will spend hours scouring weather maps for tell-tell signs of a possible upcoming vis-mig happening and will then ensure that they are at their chosen vantage point by, or shortly after, dawn. There are websites devoted to the observations gathered by such birders (for example Trektellen ) and also WhatsApp groups where data can be instantly shared. It is an inclusive world in which the celebration of bird migration is a central pillar. People that you have never met become virtual friends and places that you have never visited become as familiar as your own back garden. Those that get their vis-mig kicks from sea watching will hopefully excuse my la...