NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

Woodcock real estate at Banstead Wood - two birds came out of this tangle A new month and, let's be frank, who isn't glad to see the back of January? A doubling of effort was called for this morning, with a dusting down of enthusiasm and a big kick to send moroseness into touch. Did they work? Well, sort of... I had two bird targets this afternoon, both in Banstead Wood and both species that had so far eluded me this year. First up was Firecrest. Local birder Ian Ward had located a pair over the weekend, and he had kindly mentioned the area that he had found them in. It was an area of semi-open woodland with a profusion of mature Holly. It only took five minutes to find one - then possibly two - although no song was heard. Next up was Woodcock. During the winter this wader can be flushed from the woodland floor, but it is rather hit or miss as to whether you will come across them. Luck (and patience) plays a big part, and for me both were present, as I flushed two in quick succ...

I was speaking to my very good friend Mark Hollingworth the other day, he who haunts the Dungeness beach in his quest to seawatch as much as possible. That very afternoon he had observed an unseasonal Sooty Shearwater and was absolutely buzzing - 'fizzing' he actually described it as. Even though he has seen tens of thousands of Sooty Shearwaters across the world, each and every time he claps eyes on one, it makes him 'fizz'. Why that particular species? We thought about this and started to look at other species that made him (and me) 'fizz'? We came to the conclusion that it has to be a species that you see relatively frequently so that it isn't the rarity of it that triggers your emotional response to it. These are the birds that sprang to my mind (in no particular order): Woodcock I think it's the suddenness of flushing a bird from the woodland leaf litter, an explosion of sound and cryptic browns that quickens the blood and leaves you wanting mo...

I am keeping a birding year-list for the first time this century. A low-key list admittedly, not driven by trying to reach a huge total, more a case of adding a side-show to my endeavours during 2017. I know I'm not taking it too seriously because: 1) I considered going to Crawley to see the long-staying Rose-coloured Starling (a drive of maybe 40 minutes), bit remembered that the bird appears on rooftops on a housing estate. Not for me that little scenario... 2) There is a Stejneger's Stonechat at Dungeness. It has been present since early November. It has had its faeces analysed by men in white coats who have declared it to really be one. And since New Year's Day several hundred sheep year-listers have trudged along to year-tick it. Not for me either, I'll wait until all the fuss has died down - which runs the risk of it disappearing before I make the effort. If I were being serious about all of this - chasing my largely south-east English 2017 bird list -...

Another calm, mild, grey and murky day here in north Surrey. The birdlife across Walton Downs (above) was largely as anonymous as the weather, although I did flush a Woodcock from a strip of woodland - species number 106 for the 'mini-uber patch' year list (111.5% of the target). This may even be enough to give Mr. Sexton and his Northumbrian list a bit of a run for his money. The Woodland Trust have been busy, planting up a further field with saplings for the Millennium Wood project, along with the erection of a bench that neatly conveys the reserves aim of commemorating all those who fell during World War One.

My perverse approach to birding surfaced once again as I elected to turn my back on multiple Iceland Gulls at Beddington and also treat the Holmethorpe Smew in similar fashion. Instead, I spent most of the day at my other local birding patch, Canons Farm/Banstead Woods. The thermometer in my back garden was registering -8.8C at 07.00hrs. Instead of driving on the icy roads I walked to the farm, which only takes 25 minutes. Once on site I immersed myself in the task of counting everything that I came across. This is the sort of simplistic ornithology that I enjoy, meandering about fields and woods with a notebook in hand, counting the mainly common ensemble set before me. There were highlights: the two noisy Crossbills flew low to the east; a Woodcock was noisily flushed from underneath a Yew tree; a loose flock of 25 Great Tits that fed on the ground underneath beech trees just like Chaffinches; the vibrance of colour in the reflected light and the fact that the birds seemed t...