More from Otmoor, Early May 2020

Sunday 3rd May; Perfect!

We met Peter, the Lord of the Moor in the almost empty car park. We made our way up to our now regular walk along the bridleway that runs through the middle of the RSPB reserve. The reserve itself is still out of bounds of course and I wondered just what might be going on out there. There could be anything breeding out in the reedbeds, probably not of course, this is Oxon and not Somerset or Norfolk remember, but rather deludedly anyway, I imagined that maybe a pair of Little Bitterns or Purple Herons had settled there since the Lockdown. This morning was different from many recent ones in that it was drizzling with wispy rain and clouds shrouded the sky. I was actually glad of the respite from the almost constant sunshine of recent weeks. 

A strange looking bird was perched on the wires above the car park field. I couldn't quite work out what it was at first and momentarily had a notion that I'd found something rare. In the next moment I had reminded myself, once again, that this was Oxon and I am me, so it was unlikely to be anything unusual, but it just didn't quite fit. I took a few photos and studied the back of the camera images. The streaky brown back reduced the options down to just a few likely suspects, those little brown jobs that I so adore. The bird looked weird because there were no feathers on the face, giving it an almost Rook like appearance. Because of the lack of facial feathers more of the bill was exposed than normal and subsequently that bill looked long and large for the species that after a minute or two of deliberation I had decided was a Dunnock. Or maybe a Runnock, Roonock, Funnock or Dook? 

Dunnock

We got a sneak peek at a Garden Warbler as we passed the pump house. Garden Warblers arrive a little bit later than the Blackcaps that sing a similar song and are never very showy early on in the spring. All the Warbler species with the exception of the brassy Sedge Warblers are furtive when first arriving at the end of April and the start of May. Soon though the Garbled Warblers, as I like to call them owing to their babbling and jumbled song, will get bolder and choose more open perches in which to sing from.

Garden Warbler

The drizzle was keeping the majority of birds deep in cover and was also a little unpleasant to linger in for too long so the three of us kept plugging along the track, stopping only occasionally to take sub-standard photos, and in my case instantly deleting, of the more showy birds. A smart male Bullfinch, not often seen during the breeding period, flew across our path and an equally lovely male Yellowhammer was begging for some bakery, but not dairy, products by the Wetlands Hide. A few Common Snipe were active overhead and their buzzing song, drumming it's called, filled the heavy air. Of course it isn't a song as such but rather a mechanical sound made by air rushing through their tail feathers when the bird swoops downwards, another amazing attribute that some birds have!

Yellowhammer

Common Snipe

On reaching Big Otmoor we looked for the Garganey and Wood Sandpiper that we'd found the week before. There was no sign of either this morning. Until we had just about given up searching when the drake Garganey flew in from our left clicking as it did so. I had never heard the call of a Garganey before, it's like a short rattle not that different to a short blast from a Grasshopper Warbler but deeper and more substantial. Apparently Garganey have been known in the old days as the Cricket Teal because of that song, if you can call it as such, resembling the stridulations of some Grasshopper species. The Garganey proceeded to pose for us for the next five minutes before flying back out to where its mate was hopefully sat on a nest somewhere.

Garganey

At the farm at Noke, Mrs Caley and I watched a beautiful Kestrel sit out the rain while Peter went on and checked the fields around the farm buildings. The Kestrels are using a box, presumably originally intended for Owls, attached to a tree at the back of one of the fields. A few weeks ago we had found a male Whinchat in the bush next to it but today there was no sign of anything other than the Kestrel.

Kestrel

Back at the balancing pond a male Blackcap sang in the open, once again illustrating how birds become easier to see the longer they stay. At the start of the Lockdown period we struggled to get any decent views of Blackcaps owing to their propensity to stay well hidden while singing. Now they could be seen perching openly in many parts of the Moor.

Blackcap

Peter called us back as we investigated the far western end of Big Otmoor. He had found a couple of Wheatears that were loitering on a pile of twigs and branches left ready for burning. We followed him to the farm gate and discovered that, in and around the wood pile, there were in fact five Wheatears, two of which were males. These were the first Wheatears we'd seen since finding the male on our Lockdown walk back at the beginning of April. Then I spotted another fine male Whinchat on top of a small bush just a few metres away from the Wheatears. This was turning into a pretty good morning despite the early drizzly start.

Wheatear magnet

female Wheatear

male Wheatear

male Whinchat

As we walked past the scrape on Big Otmoor, the drake Garganey surprised us again by flying in and landing in the shallow water. Maybe it perceived us a threat and decided that we had to be seen out of the neighbourhood. As before it stayed just a few minutes before flying back to where it had come from.

The dreary weather had brought some Swifts with it and at the bench on the bridleway I tried gamely to get some photos of them. Photographs of Swifts are pure snapshots owing to their fast and erratic flight and it's a challenge that I never tire of accepting. I reckon for every hundred frames I take of flying Swifts, at least ninety-five will end up being binned and of the five left over probably all of them will be unsatisfactory in some way. Just occasionally I'll be happy with a few of them and even more seldom will be delighted with one or two. Today was a day when none really cut the mustard.

Common Swift

Friday 8th May; Skulkers? Not today

Early Bank Holiday Monday had been moved to the Friday so that the country could celebrate VE Day which naturally gave me a chance to take time off. Normally we'd have headed off somewhere semi-exotic like Wales for the day but of course we were denied that chance by the travel ban so it had to be a morning on Otmoor yet again. At least Otmoor is never boring, well it used to be but these days, through necessity, it's positively great and I don't know what we'd have done without it. We were back to wall to wall sunshine again and the Warblers were giving it their all close to the car park. First on the bill this morning was the Common Whitethroat that has a territory right next to the entrance road by the ragged old Ash tree.

Common Whitethroat

We walked along the Roman Road for a change, mainly in response to a sighting of a Ring-necked Parakeet there a few days before. No sign of any exotic parrots but we did encounter a Garden Warbler that uncharacteristically was in clear view. Chiffchaffs and Blackcaps joined in the concert and a Green woodpecker yaffled noisily from the field the other side of the huge Oak trees that line one side of the path. I've often heard Tawny Owls in those trees but have yet to see one, but that has never stopped me from looking for them. If they have a roosting hole then it must face away from the path.

Garden Warbler

Back at the feeders I could hear the rattling calls and scratchy song of a Lesser Whitethroat. Amazingly the normally skulking little Warbler was perched on one of the overhead wires, very untypical for the species. It seemed as though a lot of Otmoor's Warblers had decided that today was a fiesta day and it was time to just get out there and put on a show. I approached the Lesser Whitethroat carefully and fired away with the camera. I was able to fill a hole in this springs Warbler portfolio despite that bright sunshine backlighting the subject. After a while the Lesser Whitethroat flitted across to the hedge on the other side of the path, better lit for photos but of course the bird was now in its element and therefore much harder to see. I followed its rattling call for a bit longer but ultimately gave up trying to get a "killer" image and moved on. I felt that the Dunnock, perched in  a tree a short way up the track, had joined in the festival of song merely to scoff at my efforts!

Lesser Whitethroat

Dunnock

The next species that we encountered, which had so far been surreptitious this spring, was a Reed Warbler that had thrown caution to the winds and was chuntering away from, almost, the top of a reed stem. The Reed warbler lacks the clicks and whistles of the Sedge Warbler but its song is much more rhythmic and seems slightly less frenetic to my ears, more ordered. The bird itself appears more relaxed too, not as frantic as its cousin which has a desire to propel itself into the air on occasion while continuing to sing. The Reed Warbler just edges neatly upwards along a reed before dropping back down to water level again. 

Reed Warbler

The entertainment of passerine song was once again accompanied by the booming of hidden Bitterns and the percussive sounds of Common Snipe buzzing through the air. I always try to photograph the drumming Snipe, they're pretty easy to track and capture but it's impossible for me to get a really good image of any, mainly because they fly too high. I took some more and once again awarded most four out of five when reviewing them later. I give all of my saved photos a rating, usually three, four or five star (the ones and twos get dumped at editing stage) and its normally just the full house images that I use on this blog. Unless I need a record shot to illustrate a point, and unfortunately I have to use those more often than I'd like. I am determined to remain a Birder first and foremost though so will not be carrying a bigger and better lens anytime soon.

Common Snipe

Most people ignore the Reed Buntings, they are possibly one of the most unheralded birds of the Moor despite the males stunning breeding plumage. In contrast to the rich and loud songs of the Warblers, Reed Buntings repertoire is feeble, lacking sophistication and volume. But I like it, even though it's very plaintive and didn't really reflect the bright and vibrant mood of the morning.

male Reed Bunting

A pair of Coots were feeding their recently hatched offspring in the ditch bordering Big Otmoor. The young Coots are odd looking things, having bright pink bald heads and scruffily feathered necks and backs. Purely faces that only a mother could love, and me of course. The parent birds were exhibiting much tenderness towards their chicks, diving to harvest submerged weeds and then gently feeding it to the young. A far cry from that Springwatch episode which astounded and horrified its audience when it showed a male Coot committing infanticide. Nature moves in mysterious ways sometimes. Luckily for this family of Coots, all seemed hunky dory this morning.

Coot family

We found the Garganey pair again but this time there was no close visit from the male. In fact in the warm sunshine the whole of Big Otmoor appeared to be relaxed and sleeping, until one of the Red Kites flew ominously over. Then Lapwings would fly straight up and harass the much bigger bird and attempt to move it out of the territory. I remember watching a pair of Lapwings move a Golden eagle on when in Benbecula a few years ago, they seem to have no fear when protecting their nests and young. The Red Kites are a bit of a problem on Otmoor though and will take many chicks over the course of the next few weeks. The RSPB designed the reserve with breeding Waders in mind and also put a lot of effort into reintroducing the Red Kites. Now there is a definite conflict of interest. I'm not a professional conservationist however so will leave the critiques to those that know far more than I do.

Lapwing & Red Kite

As is the norm, the walk back was less entertaining, most birds had ceased singing and were far less visible. The only Cuckoos and Hobbies that we saw were way away at the northern edge of Greenaways. A Warbler creeping through the bushes near the feeders got me momentarily excited though. At first I thought it was another Garden warbler but after seeing the photo later it was clear that it was an Acrocephalus species. I really wanted it to be something really rare like a Marsh or Blyth's Reed warbler but had to concede that it was just another bulk standard Reed Warbler. Away from their usual reedbed habitat, reed Warblers always manage to confuse me.

Reed Warbler

With temperatures approaching furnace levels and not wishing to melt completely, we retreated to the air conditioned car and home taking a moment to admire a soaring Common Buzzard. It must be great to be a Bird of Prey so high up in the cool air watching everything below. As long as you stay away from North Yorkshire.

Common Buzzard

Sunday 10th May; Action Packed

In contrast to Friday it was much cooler and the wind had strengthened and consequently there was reduced activity amongst the small songbirds. We barely stopped to look at anything until reaching the three small scrapes on Greenaways where a couple of Little Egrets were stalking the shallows. I always check these scrapes thoroughly, they look ideal habitat to attract a wayward Red-necked Phalarope at this time of year. Of course they haven't as of yet but with birds and birding anything can turn up at any time so I live on in hope. So for now it was the Little Egrets that had our attention. I assume that Otmoor's Little Egrets are all non-breeding birds although one was sporting the pinkish lores that they only attain for a few weeks during the spring breeding season and it was being pursued by another.

Little Egret

Cuckoos were very much in evidence this morning but as usual were teasing us by just staying ahead of us as we walked the bridleway. Each and every dead tree are used by the Cuckoos as song posts but they are very wary and invariably take to flight before you can get a good look at them or raise the camera. Every so often though one of the Cuckoos, or two of them if one is involved in chasing another, fly past at speed and if they are hurtling past above Greenaways and therefore in the open, you can get a good photo opportunity, provided you can react in time.

Cuckoo

We'd walked on a bit ahead of Peter who had stopped to chat to a friend of his. I heard him call me back and saw him training his scope on a bird above Greenaways. I scanned the air with my bins and found a Falcon flying quickly towards us. My first thought was a Peregrine but as it came closer it dawned on me that it was the smaller Hobby. I took a few photos as it passed just to be sure. At just after nine o'clock in the morning it was early for a Hobby to be airborne, they are usually much later starters and usually wait for the air to warm up and for the Dragonflies and the like to become active.
Peter caught us up and asked me what I'd thought the two birds were that he'd alerted us to. Two birds? "Yes", he replied, "the Hobby and the other one". Explaining that we'd only seen the one bird and that was definitely a Hobby, Peter then related that he thought the other bird may have been a Red-footed Falcon! Unfortunately I was unable to help with that possibility and rued the fact that I'd concentrated on just the one bird.

Hobby

We checked out Big Otmoor from the first gate. Peter scored again when he spotted a Great Egret stalking one of the ditches, not our first of the year but apparently the first seen on the Moor this year.  We found the Garganey pair again but they were way out on the furthest pool again and yet again asleep. Ducks sure do sleep a lot! Leaving Peter chatting to another passer by, he seems to know everybody that walks around the Moor, we made our way to where we had seen the Great Egret fly to so that I could get some shots. The Egret was working along the edge of a small reedbed right at the Noke end of the enclosure. Despite our best efforts at stealth the Egret flew up and away over our heads towards Ashgrave. I managed a few photos as the bird flew past.

Great Egret

Retracing our steps, we'd checked the pile of cut branches for the Wheatears seen on Friday but they must have moved on, we had a hunch that the Great Egret had alighted on the wet marsh by the Wetlands Hide so we checked the area out from the public footpath that leads up to July's Meadow and the village of Beckley beyond. There was no sign of the Great Egret so we surmised that it's visit to the moor must have just been a passing one. But we were to have a stroke of luck again because while searching for the Egret I suddenly saw a familiar bird flying towards us but one that I hadn't actually seen this year despite hearing them plenty of times on our Otmoor excursions. By the time I had exclaimed "Bittern!" and alerted the others, it had dropped into a small patch of reeds by the dead trees which sometimes host a Heron nest or two (although not this year). We waited in the still constant drizzle for the Bittern to re-emerge as we felt sure it would since it would be on a feeding trip out from one of the other larger reedbeds. Ten minutes later and we were getting bored of standing still and were just preparing to walk on when the Bittern flew up out of the reeds. This time I shouted quickly enough for Mrs Caley and Peter to see it as it flew lazily but directly away towards the Noke reedbed. I find off some shots but they were mostly blurred and unusable. One though was just good enough to use here and from that image it was remarkable at just how scrawny the Bittern was, so probably a female that had been sitting on a nest for a while and in need of a good feed! The Bittern also has a notch in its left wing which would be a significant identification aid later in this spring.

Bittern

We had had a terrific mornings birding with some nice surprises despite the dismal weather for the most part. We were already looking forward to our next visit. While the Moor is so quiet, very few people are visiting during the Lockdown, it is at its best.

Goldfinch

Back at home, a pair of Goldfinches had constructed a nest in our Magnolia bush in the front garden. The female had been sitting for over a week and the male was usually in attendance either perched on next doors car aerial or garage roof. A couple of days ago I had noticed that a Magpie, also nesting in our garden, had also found the Goldfinch nest since it was spending quite a bit of time flying into the bush and out again. We spent Sunday afternoon running out of our living room and scaring the Magpie off at regular intervals. Ultimately though our efforts failed and the Magpie managed to ransack the nest while we were off guard. Oh well, that's nature I guess, and I support all birds, they all exist for a reason. I do have a feeling though that we have too many Magpies in our area and they must be having an effect on the numbers of songbirds locally. Hopefully the Goldfinch pair will choose a less exposed nest site for their next nesting attempt. And maybe the Magpie pair will raise another "Snow Crow" like the one we had in our garden in 2017.

leucistic Magpie, July 2017

Naughty but Nightingales! End of April 2020

Four weeks into the lockdown and I was finding that it was becoming much more difficult to stay excited and motivated by the birding available locally. A couple more walks to Trow Pool on the 21st and 25th of April, although pleasant, had yielded nothing different, even if some species, such as the Whitethroats that had excited us so much when first finding them a week or so before, had become much more numerous. We had both become increasingly disillusioned with the "new" patch and were really missing out on seeing some of our more usual sought after birds that would be available at this time of year. Even more local folk had discovered the walk too and on a fine morning the bridleway was resembling a busy High Street. Far too popular for us and we had to go somewhere else, and not just for social distancing sakes. The only new bird that we added to our year list in the week was Common Swift when I spotted a couple soaring incredibly high above our house which brought up the 150.

Common Whitethroat

Luckily we had rediscovered Otmoor, albeit only from the main bridleway that traversed it since the RSPB reserve itself was closed, so we made plans to go again on Sunday the 26th. As soon as we opened the car doors we were treated to a cacophony of bird song and especially those of the summering Warbler species on what was yet another fine and sunny day. The weather since Lockdown has been remarkable with pretty much wall to wall sunshine. Compare that with the dreary and wet start to the year which made for an underlying theme to my blogs around that time. We tagged along with Peter again, discussing all things Otmoor and the new big C-word of course. The Grasshopper Warbler of the week before must have already secured a mate or moved on, since there was no reeling coming from the feeder area. The chief protagonists of this spring mornings show were the Sedge Warblers which had arrived en masse over the previous fortnight. There was a Sedgie singing from almost every bush that we passed and their clicking and whistling greeted us everywhere. By contrast Reed Warblers were still largely yet to arrive and the only ones we heard were keeping a very low profile. 

Sedge Warbler

As in previous years the stream that runs alongside the main bridleway has attracted a pair of Pochard. We suspect that they choose to nest in the rushes alongside the stream either by the bridleway or more likely alongside the path down to the off limits screens that overlook the lagoons. They are often seen, as they were today, at the ninety degree bend by the crossroads close to the Wetlands Watch Hide. In opposition to most birders, probably because of my love of any bird that isn't richly coloured, those little brown jobs, it's the female Ducks that I most appreciate but even I have to agree that the drake Pochard in all his breeding finery is a handsome chap indeed. He was also rather more visible than his mate as he kept watch while she explored possible nesting sites. Pochards, though a common wintering species in the UK, are scarce breeders in our country so any pair lingering in Oxfordshire through the summer are to be treasured.

Pochard

Cuckoos were racing along, mainly behind the hedgerow and out of view but occasionally one would break cover and fly past at break-neck speed over Greenaways. Initially slow to arrive this year there were now at least four on the Moor including a hepatic female bird, which I had still to see. It was the males that were noisy, stopping on any suitable lofty perch to advertise their presence but never allowing a close approach. After several failed attempts I eventually managed to grab some flight shots. Cuckoos would become much more visible and confiding during May and June and then just before the end of July they'll all disappear and the Moor will mourn the loss of their repetitive song. Of course the young Cuckoos are left behind to be reared by their Reed Warbler, amongst others, foster parents. How they then manage to migrate unaided south to Africa for our winter is incredible. 

Cuckoo

We continued on the bridleway towards Noke, noting most of the usual suspects. Birding the Moor with Peter is educational since he knows where almost every bird is! In addition to the birds Brown Hares were tucked up in the grass both inside and outside of the anti-predator fence on Big Otmoor. There were Geese everywhere, many with newly hatched Goslings. Red Kites and a Marsh Harrier patrolled the skies on the lookout for a fresh meal. 

Brown Hare

Marsh Harrier

feral Canada & Barnacle Geese

Big Otmoor, the name given to one of the enclosures, is the likeliest spot to find anything unusual while access to the main reserve is denied. A drake Garganey had been found during the last week and after much searching we finally found it fast asleep at the edge of one of the open water leads and a long way out from our viewpoint. While straining to get a decent view of it through the heat haze, I spotted a small wading bird on the furthest pool. For the next half hour or so Peter and I deliberated over the waders identity. It was much smaller than an accompanying Redshank, less than half the size, had a very nervous and upright gait. Legs were reasonably long and yellowish. We considered three species, firstly Lesser Yellowlegs but we thought it wasn't long-necked or big enough, next we deliberated over Pectoral Sandpiper but that species is dumpy and tends to feed with its body more parallel to the ground, so we sided finally with a more likely Wood Sandpiper. Viewing was hampered by the heat shimmer but my scope allowed the spangled grey-brown back to be discerned as well as a fairly prominent supercilium. Unfortunately my camera and lens weren't quite up to the job. Maybe I should invest in a digiscoping kit.

Garganey

Wood Sandpiper

We had far better views of one of the Oystercatchers, which was feeding close to the perimeter fence. There are currently three pairs of Oycs out on Big Otmoor and they should be successful in hatching young. Rearing them to adulthood will be the big challenge considering the amount of Red Kites and other predators that patrol the reserve.

Oystercatcher

As we walked back towards the carpark a Raven flew over and we stopped to admire more Sedge Warblers. I finally managed a decent view of a male Blackcap this spring which shared a bush with yet another Sedgie. Cetti's warbler exploded into song at various points along the bridleway but as always kept well hidden and camera shy.

Raven

Blackcap

A Hobby sailed high overhead as we passed the feeders, our 152nd species for the year. The Hobby appeared to catch a thermal and lazily gained height above us as I tried to get some photos. It's always a good feeling to see these energetic Falcons back on Otmoor but I doubt that the local Dragonfly population will agree with that sentiment.

Hobby

We had managed to see a very satisfactory 67 species in our four hour walk up and down the bridleway. Our next aim will be to see a Bittern instead of merely hearing the booming song of one.

I had been holding a small job over, just outside Oxfordshire and very close to a place where I knew that I could see and listen to some of the most special birds of spring. The Lockdown period had actually helped me out since I wasn't able to visit the work site until now owing to it being impossible to socially distance in the part of the building where I was wanted. Now it was safe for me to do so, and I admit that I took advantage of the situation, I walked just the half mile or so from the site once I'd finished work, to a place which I knew would hold Nightingales. For me spring is all about hearing and seeing our most eloquent of all songsters and at least I'd now have my chance. 

I could hear Nightingale song even before I'd reached the small common. I walked up and down the road to pinpoint where the song was coming from. Now, as every birder knows, hearing Nightingales is one thing, actually seeing them is another. They can be incredibly hard to locate as they move around in dense foliage and rarely emerge into full view to sing. By walking around the trees and heathland area, I had heard at least six different Nightingales singing or calling and I selected a couple in places where I thought I'd stand the best chance of getting a glimpse of one. To make it even more difficult I had chosen the only wet and windy day that we'd seen in the last month. 

One of the Nightingales was singing almost continually from a small stand of Silver Birch trees which had an understory of brambles and gorse, perfect habitat for Nightingales, and I tried to place it amongst the tangle of branches and leaves. Nearly an hour later, it takes a while to get a line on a Nightingales movements, I finally caught a brief view of a rusty red tail disappearing back into a gorse bush. I told you it wasn't easy! Another half hour and I finally nailed my views, still partially obscured in one of the Silver Birches, of my 153rd species of the year.

Nightingale

Satisfied I made my way back to the worksite, pausing to photograph a splendid little Willow warbler and an equally beautiful Song Thrush on the way. I could still hear the Nightingales singing when I reached my parked van.

Willow Warbler

Song Thrush

I fortunately had a small finishing job to do on the Saturday so I was able to take Mrs Caley with me and share the Nightingales with her. I had gained permission to leave my van on site while we walked up to the common again. Again the birds were audible even before we got near and of course I knew exactly where they'd be having done the recce the day before. The bird that I'd persevered with before was playing even harder to get, possibly owing to the increased disturbance by more people walking past its spot, so I decided to concentrate our efforts on a couple of the others. As we walked along a track through a wooded area I could see a Nightingale perched openly on a small Silver Birch tree. As soon as we came within range however, it flew back into cover. We backed off a bit and waited and a short while afterwards the bird re-emerged only to be scared off by a passing cyclist. I found a place where we were secreted better, a bit too far away but where we'd have a clear view of the Nightingale. Ten minutes later and the Nightingale crept up the tree and began singing.

We waited for the Nightingale to finish its concert and then slipped away leaving it and the others to it. I would have loved to have taken a lot longer in their company but until the Lockdown was lifted completely we wouldn't be able to. Usually by the beginning of June, Nightingales have ceased their singing, so it'll be next year before we get to hear them again. Something to look forward to!