Despite the title this is still a blog about birds and not wine, although no doubt you could accuse me of whining on a bit, as per usual.
After the fabulous views of the Barn Owl on the previous morning we revisited in the hope of more. The weather was drier with sunshine first thing so we were thinking that the Owl would be even more obliging, if that was even possible. In the event, we arrived earlier, by eight o'clock, saw the Owl immediately but only as it was flying back to its nest tree, and then didn't see it return to its hunting spot over the next half hour so assumed that it had been out earlier itself and had finished for the day. That is the joy of birding though, sometimes you get surprises like we did the previous day and at other times the birds don't always fulfil your expectations. Luckily in Northumberland there is much to do and many other places to go and by choosing to stay in Wooler and only being a few miles away we were able to replan and drive into the Harthope Valley which leads up to the start point for walking up Cheviot, the highest hill in this part of England. Not that we'd be walking there, we needed to save our legs for the upcoming mountain walks in Scotland. We would however, follow the well trodden track that follows the river up the valley at least part of the way to Cheviot.
We had visited this delightful spot three years previously and had enjoyed the tranquility as well as the upland scenery. On this visit we had barely left the car behind when we heard a Wood Warbler trilling from a line of trees to our right just ahead. The trees there were mainly firs but there were a few isolated silver birches and I knew that the Wood Warbler would most likely be around those since the species absolutely loves silver birch trees. We drew alongside one of the said silver birch trees and could hear the Wood Warbler still although the song was emanating from within the denser fir trees. My birding skills are not the best but I have found that I can mimic the whistling calls that Wood Warblers make just before they go into their body-quivering trilling song. Three short whistles and suddenly the Wood Warbler was in the silver birch right in front of us, looking for the imposter on its territory. While it showed, maybe for a couple of minutes, I rattled off a whole volley of shots of the beautiful little songster. Once the bird had established that there was no immediate threat to it from a rival it disappeared into the denser wood again and began singing once more. I had no reason to disturb it anymore so we walked on up the valley and left the Wood Warbler still trilling away.
We stopped at a bridge that spanned the river allowing for access to a farm. We know that Dippers nest here so we leant on the side of the bridge and waited. Less than a minute later a Dipper whirred past us and under the bridge. It alighted on one of the many water-washed rocks and did what Dippers do, it dipped, or rather bounced up and down on its rubberised legs.
The Dipper was holding in its bill, a few food items meant for its chicks which would be in the nest beneath the bridge. It hopped from rock to rock eyeing us with suspicion, making sure that we no threat, before delivering the food parcel. A few-seconds later the Dipper was flying upriver to fetch more grub for its offspring.
We headed up the valley for a short distance, just far enough to find the one bird that we knew would be in the valley that we needed for our year list. On a bend in the river, where some trees overhang the water, a Spotted Flycatcher perched serenely studying the air for flying insects which it frequently snared by launching itself off the branch before returning to a similar spot ready to hunt another. The Flycatcher also used a fence line to perch which allowed me to get a record shot.
Back at the bridge we found the Dipper again. It was once more being very furtive owing to having another beak-full of goodies for its chicks. I took a few more shots then left the Dipper to it. We'd hopefully see a few more of the delightful birds when we got to Scotland.
We watched a mob of House Martins and Swallows collecting mud from the margins of a puddle in the paddock that borders the road. While we did so we could hear the Wood Warbler trilling away still. I attempted to grab some flight shots of the hirundines.
Mrs Caley chatted to another birder and pointed her in the direction of some of the birds that we'd seen. She was very grateful for us telling her that the bird she could hear in the trees was a delightful Wood Warbler. I pulled off my party piece again and she was even more happy to actually see the bird, her first ever of the species.
There is a track that leads off the road up into the hills, one we've looked at before but never ventured up. It looks so steep but we resolved to go a short way up it this time. We were glad we did too because once we'd reached the top of the first rise and were able to overlook a small valley, we spotted a family of Ring Ouzels, a Whinchat, a Red Grouse and a smart Brown Hare.
Year List addition;
227) Spotted Flycatcher
A major problem for the birder when visiting a remote place like the Harthope Valley is the lack of mobile coverage. Being in a phone 'dead zone' is great for enjoying the peace and tranquility but folk like me want to know what is happening out there in the birding world at all times, particularly in view of wanting to know if there are any other birds local that we could see while away on holiday. We had to drive for a few miles back downhill towards Wooler before the phone sprang into life again. Mrs Caley called the latest news as I drove but when she mentioned a Rosefinch nearby I pulled the car into a gateway and took a look for myself. A Common Rosefinch, not that common and we'd only ever seen one before, a self-found bird at Rattray Head in the north-east of Scotland way back in 2012, had been discovered singing in Embleton Quarry about twenty miles away from where we were. It had first been reported at ten forty-five and it was now nearly one o'clock. I hoped that we hadn't missed it by being elsewhere!
I did the research, set the Sat Nav, and drove off. We arrived at Embleton just before two and grabbed just one of two visitor parking spots on a new housing development next to the quarry. The quarry itself had been reinvented as a nature reserve and even from looking from the road above we were already jealous of the folk that lived here and had such a good looking site on their doorsteps. A couple of birders were returning from the quarry as we togged up but in answer to my obvious inquiry only shook their heads ruefully and announced that the bird hadn't been seen since midday. We were there anyway so after getting the location and directions of where to look headed down through the scrub to emerge next to a lovely pond in the heart of the reserve. There was only one other chap present and he explained where the bird had been seen but that so far he hadn't seen it himself.
The Common Rosefinch we had seen at Rattray Head was a juvenile, a rather plain brown finch, quite large, almost Bullfinch sized, but pretty drab. It's main redeeming feature were a pair of big jet black eyes. The 'Common' moniker doesn't apply to the species prevalence in the south of the UK, they are hardly ever seen in our area but in northern climes they are encountered more often. Many are found during migration times, especially in autumn, in the north of Britain. This was summer however, so this bird wouldn't be a juvenile and this one was reported to have been singing so it must be a male, and adult male Common Rosefinches are a thing of beauty, with bright pink heads and breasts. Common Rosefinches occasionally breed in Scotland and we have tried to twitch one once before in the summer but had no luck.
We stood at the edge of the pond where Little Grebes darted in and out of the reeds and Reed Buntings sang. The Rosefinch had been discovered by a local birder who has this beautiful little reserve as part of his 'patch'. He heard the bird singing as he ate breakfast on his terrace outside his house which sounds like the stuff of dreams to me. We now waited for the bird to begin singing again so that we'd at least know which direction to look in. The song of the Common Rosefinch has been likened to "wolf-whistling', "whu-whu-whooh" or "whoo-whoouhhh", and apparently can be coaxed by whistling as one used to as a young lad would do at the fairer sex (not that I'm admitting that I ever did that in these wokish times). We had been stood waiting for maybe twenty minutes, a few other birders had arrived, when the song was picked up faintly on the left side of the pool. The area there was very heavily vegetated with thick blossom bushes forming a dense hedge. Incredibly I noticed some slight movement in amongst the white blossom of a blackthorn bush (I think) and there framed beautifully was the singing Rosefinch. I rattled off some quick fire frames and tried to direct Mrs Caley onto the bird. Unfortunately she couldn't spot the bird, neither could any of the other birders, and for a few seconds my own sighting was doubted by the rest until I produced the back of camera images to prove that I'd seen it.
I was surprised to realise that the Rosefinch wasn't bright pink coloured at all but was rather drably clothed in brown and beige in much the same way that the juvenile I'd found at Rattray Head had been. I quickly consulted the trusty 'Collins Bird Guide' on my phone and saw that what I had been looking at was indeed a Common Rosefinch, for a moment I'd thought that it must be something else, but not a full adult and rather a first-summer male which have female like plumage and sport no red at all. I was happy though to have seen only my second Common Rosefinch. And people who know me, will know that I hate the colour red anyway.
We had to stay on and wait for a reappearance by the bird because Mrs Caley hadn't seen it. We stood in the pleasant sunshine for way over an hour with no further sign of the Rosefinch and attention spans started to become strained. All of the other birders had left except for the lady that we'd met earlier in the Harthope Valley. The two birders that we'd spoken to as we arrived, who had not seen the bird earlier, returned saying they had seen my tweet announcing the Rosefinch's continued presence so had come back for another go. Incredibly almost as soon as they arrived the Rosefinch started singing again and this time seemed to be in a bush right next to where we were stood! There then followed a very tense ten minutes throughout which the Rosefinch continued to sing but none of us could see the bird. We knew where it was but we just couldn't find it in the dense foliage and blossom. By walking up and down alongside the hedge, I managed to pinpoint the exact location and eventually found the bird secreted right at the back of a hawthorn bush that straddled the path that ran beneath it. Once I'd gotten Mrs Caley onto it and then the rest of the birders, there was a collective sigh of relief. Phew!
Of course a few moments later the Rosefinch emerged into full view and we could enjoy its subdued beauty at length. It was indeed a plain looking brown bird but still striking with a large conical bill and those big black eyes. It was lighter coloured than I remembered the juvenile bird at Rattray being and there was maybe a hint of the scarlet-pink to come in the throat area. For the next five minutes the bird was in complete view, singing almost constantly, and we all enjoyed great views.
Seeing the Rosefinch was a great surprise for the trip and a huge bonus year tick. My thanks go to @Gary_D_Woodburn, the finder of the bird, for putting the news out and allowing us to see it. Hopefully it would prove to be the first of many bonus birds on this trip.
Year List addition;
228) Common Rosefinch
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