Excellent Local Birding, 22nd December 2019

For a change we decided to keep it local in the run up to Christmas visiting Farmoor on Sunday and had plans to bird Otmoor on Christmas Eve. To be honest both Mrs Caley and myself were feeling a bit jaded from all of the travelling we've done this year in pursuit of year and life ticks and we just didn't fancy another long haul in the holiday traffic. We made a late start on the Sunday and didn't arrive at Farmoor until after ten. The weather was promising with forecast sunshine and I hoped to get a better look at the Slavonian grebe that had been present on and off for a couple of weeks.

On reaching the embankment I scanned around the reservoirs and could see lots more birdwatchers than is usual for Farmoor and as we stood admiring a Great Crested Grebe at close quarters my phone buzzed informing me that it's Slavonian cousin was still there in the North-west corner of F2. As we strolled past the marina and cafe a chap passed and without me even getting a chance to say "Good morning", he blasted out "The Slavonian is there" and pointed to its whereabouts. Quashing my normal frustrations at being told the location of a bird that I am quite happy to find myself, it was Christmas after all, love to all and all that, I merely smiled and stood aside to let him continue his conversation with the far more tolerant, and tolerable, Mrs Caley while I looked around a bit more.

I had noticed a Carrion Crow stood on the wall a little further on and as I watched it sprung down onto the road and began pecking away at the carcass of a Black-headed Gull. Mrs Caley released herself of the eager bird news reporter so we approached a bit closer and watched the Crow do its best Sparrowhawk impression at devouring parts of the deceased Gull. Natures finest quality is its ability to make use of everything that it can. Unless it's plastic.

Carrion Crow

A Cormorant was thrashing about by the sailing boats and we wondered what was causing it distress. When the bird surfaced properly we could see that it had somehow it had either speared a Perch with its lower mandible or one of the fishes spines had pierced its bill. Either way the Cormorant appeared unable to free it. Another Cormorant was attracted by what it must have thought might be a free and easy meal and there was quite a rumpus going down as the stricken bird instinctively tried to hold on to its catch even though it couldn't eat it itself. After, presumably, a few underwater scraps both birds emerged minus the fish so the final outcome was undetermined.

Cormorants

We found the Slavonian Grebe by the pontoon in the corner of F2 without any trouble. To get the best chance of decent photos of birds at Farmoor it is best to sit or lay on the retaining wall and allow the bird to feel at ease then it will most often approach more closely. Also, with diving birds, you can wait until they are underwater and then use that period of invisibility to get closer to where the bird is fishing. Hence with patience you can get better and closer views than folk who just stand obtrusively at the reservoir edge. 

Slavonian Grebe

The Grebe despite being decked out in its subdued non-breeding plumage of greys still managed to look resplendent in the weak winter sunshine. Its devil like red eyes positively glowed whenever it looked towards us. In between dives the Slav would preen and iron out its feathers to ensure all was constantly ship shaped, or perhaps that should be submarine shaped, and be ready to submerge again.

I tried, as I always do, to coincide the camera shutter with the Grebes dives hoping to capture the moment where the birds bill just enters the water. I attempt this with all Grebe species and have a 99.99% failure rate and I should really give up and find something else to amuse myself with but I live in forlorn hope of actually achieving the "shot". As the great BB King once said when asked why he practised so hard, "One day I'll get it right". A motto for life is that.

My short session with the Grebe was first scuppered by a chap walking up and asking me the whereabouts of the "Slovakian Grebe" (!) which was by then swimming hastily away from the bank and wouldn't swim back in until he left. Then a whole group of birders from another planet all noisily congregated around me and Mrs Caley and loudly proclaimed "there it is, out there". I heard, "I wish it was closer in" by a few of the group and thought, "yes, me too...."

We left the "out of towner's" to it and wandered off towards the Tufted Duck flock in the North-west corner of F1 knowing that the two wintering Greater Scaups should be with them. The last time we had visited Farmoor we were largely thwarted in our search for the Scaup by the Paddle Boarding Crew that just this year have blighted F1 by systematically scaring all of the birds as they paddle their way around the reservoir. On that occasion the flock of ducks had been pushed from one end of the reservoir to the other and we couldn't keep up with them. The Paddle Boarders also manage to disturb any wading birds that may be around at other times by paddling far too close to the banks. Why is it that so many other folk's hobbies and pastimes always seem to interfere with and prove to be so detrimental to our own? Today though the Boarding gang were absent so the raft of Ducks were settled. For some reason only be-known to myself, I had left my scope in the car so had to try and locate the Greater Scaups using binoculars alone and that proved to be difficult since the majority of the ducks were sleeping. Eventually though I did find them although initially there wasn't much to appreciate owing to the snoring emanating from the water.

Greater Scaup, 1st winter 3rd from left and female 3rd from right

The large group of birders joined us again, this time there was no threat to any of the birds since they were too far out anyway so the collective noise didn't matter. After a few minutes the "leader" plucked up the courage to ask where the Scaups were, maybe my scowl of earlier didn't go unnoticed! This time I happily pointed out the two snoozing ducks although actually getting the group on to them  proved difficult owing to my lack of telescope. Helpfully the female Greater Scaup, the other is a first winter bird, awoke for a few moments whereby the distinctive white blaze to the face could be appreciated.

Our day ended by watching Mute Swan wars on F1 whereby one male bird, obviously with a massive cob on (see what I did there?), drove another presumably younger male out of the reservoir. The younger bird also belied its name by making several weird sounds as it was chased away, one likened to the mewing of a cat and the other almost like the phantom raspberry blower! I'd never heard a Swan make either of those calls before proving, as is often the case in this game, that I am, hopefully, learning all the time.