Storker! Frampton Marsh, 20th August

After the rush of four life ticks in the space of eight days towards the end of July, we had kept our birding local with numerous trips onto Otmoor, where we had been entertained by an influx of long-legged waterbirds that like cows as well as the established star birds of the area. Those walks will be detailed in another blogpost.

We had decided that we would only get in the car and drive out of Oxfordshire for life ticks or those that we had seen previously but only poorly. That new policy lasted for three weeks before I got itchy feet and wanted to see something different to the new Continental All-stars on Otmoor. My mate Jim had been in touch asking whether I was tempted by a Black Stork, a species that he'd never seen in the UK, at Frampton Marsh. I told him I wasn't really because I'd already seen three before. In fact, Mrs Caley and myself had "self-found" one when it flew over our heads at Dungeness when birding there a few years ago. We had last seen one while on a holiday to Scotland in June 2019.

Black Stork, Findhorn Bay, 9th June 2019

After getting the weekly shop out of the way early on Friday morning and attending to a bit of catch-up business paperwork, I sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea and suggested to Mrs Caley that rather than waste the day (off) we should go somewhere. Shortly afterwards we had set sail to Frampton Marsh. I know, I'm weak!

There is always something interesting at Frampton Marsh and it's only a couple of hours drive away so it is probably our most visited place outside of our immediate area (and Scotland). I checked the bird news while taking a quick rest stop on the outskirts of Peterborough and noticed that the Black Stork was actually in a field at another RSPB reserve the other side of the river at Frieston Shore. The Stork had been frequenting both sites over the past week or so and had been fairly mobile but by and large seemed to mainly favour Frampton Marsh. Mrs Caley kept her eye on updates and the next report came in that the bird had indeed flown back to Frampton Marsh. I checked with Jim again, he had just arrived at Frampton but couldn't see the Stork where it was supposed to be in the barn field. We found some lunch, remember we had seen Black Storks before so didn't feel the need to rush anywhere, and ate it at leisure while parked up in a lay-by. Jim called again and told us that the Stork had flown back towards Freiston Shore so we altered the SatNav again and headed into the Boston bottleneck and towards that reserve. Jim also added he hadn't seen the bird himself but had gained the info from another birder. Luckily before travelling the extra six miles or so to Frieston after getting through the traffic, I stopped and checked the bird news once more and more importantly Twitter. There I saw a tweet from an observer on the ground who had watched the Stork depart Frampton Marsh but it had seen it fly in a South-eastwards direction which was totally the opposite to where Freiston lay from Frampton!

Thinking that the Black Stork could have gone for good but had more likely just found a feeding area further around The Wash so would probably return at some point we rejoined the traffic and slowly made our way to Frampton Marsh. Coming from the North the access road takes you past the farm where the Little Owls are supposed to be but as usual we didn't see them. Just as on our first visit this year to the reserve in May, we did however find a Turtle Dove perched on an overhead wire although this time it flew before I could get the camera organised. We trundled into the pretty full carpark but then decided to drive up to the seaward parking area instead (as I would normally do anyway). I could see Jim stood on the seawall, presumably looking at the Pacific Golden Plover that we'd seen four weeks before and which was still present (in fact two had been seen together on occasions recently). On our way to join him on the elevated bank, I looked over the scrapes either side of the track to see what was around. Wading birds abound at Frampton Marsh and the scrapes at the seaward end provide the photographer, and camera carrying birders like myself (an important distinction), unrivalled opportunities to capture some decent shots. The first bird that I clocked eyes on was a fabulous juvenile Little Ringed Plover, for my money there are few better looking wading birds, and I took some photos as it fed delicately along the muddy edge of the scrape.

juvenile Little Ringed Plover

There were Ruff and Black-tailed Godwit but they were further off and the reeds had grown so high along the track that viewing the scrape could only be made from a couple of places so I studied the few birds that were closer. A juvenile Lapwing walked studiously in the tracks of the Little Ringed Plover. The muddy edges are well worn bird pathways and I find it amazing that all of the birds seem to be able to readily find food. It's like a supermarket for birds where the shelves are refilled continuously. As I took a few frames of the Lapwing it dipped its head to the ground and pulled up an impressive looking worm, as long as the Lapwing was tall. The resulting tug-of-war was over quickly, the Lapwing won easily pulling the worm clear from its lair in the soft soil. It then studied the stricken worm for a few seconds, manoeuvred it into a suitable position and then sucked it up à la spaghetti style.

Lapwing

We joined Jim at the top of the bank, he still hadn't seen the Black Stork, having missed it when it flew off because he was walking through a "tunnel" of trees and thus was blind sided. At least we now knew for sure that it flown off to the South so, assuming it would return at some point, we knew which way it would come from. After a quick chat and some reassurance from me that he'd be all right now since we were there and Black Storks are one of the few rare black and white birds that actually like us and don't avoid us like so many others do, I'm still mightily peeved by that bloody big black and white seabird thingy at Bempton doing a bunk every time I get near it. It was about half past one o'clock and Jim was on borrowed time, he had an engagement for later in the day so had to leave by three so the Stork needed to fly back soon. In the meantime we watched the Pacific Golden Plover, just the one, the other was absent. As it was a month before the rare wader from further east (or west if you go the other way around the planet) was a bit too far out for my lens but showed well enough to appreciate the extensive moult that it had undertaken since our last visit. The solid black underparts that the Plover had sported before are being replaced by lighter winter feathers and the belly was now a mottled assortment of dull blacks, greys and whites. The upper parts were becoming more blotchy beige rather than a rich spangled golden-brown. The bold supercilium was just as marked as before but was turning beige as opposed to the striking white stripe of a month ago.

Pacific Golden Plover

The cattle that roam freely around the salt marsh and embankment, including the cursed number 8 bullock, were thankfully better behaved on this visit and caused us no bother this time. They had been joined by an attendant flock of Yellow Wagtails, possibly as many as fifty of them darted around the hooves of the herd. The Wagtails were represented by the full gamut of colourful males, and more subdued females and juveniles.

Yellow Wagtail

For the next hour we remained up on the seawall where we had the best panoramic view of the reserve, and most importantly a 360 vista of the skies. Having seen three Black Storks before, Mrs Caley and I were still very relaxed but hoped that the big bird would return to "make the day". Our friend Jim though was edgier and unfortunately did have to leave soon. I call Jim, "Lucky Jim", because he generally walks into the rare birds, although like the rest of us not always, but his strike rate does seem to be higher than ours. This time however, that success rate appeared to be under threat. At a quarter to three he had to go, so I jokingly invoked the five-minute rule, whereby the chance of a rare bird showing, increases massively whenever somebody leaves the twitch, exponentially if it's us that departs. We watched Jim clamber down the slope and start his trek back to his car parked at the visitor centre. It took eight minutes for the Black Stork to appear flying in at a relatively low height for a Stork from the South-east, the same direction it had disappeared to earlier. I hollered, "Stork" as loudly as I could and pointed skywards so that anybody else around could see it, a couple slightly further along the seawall reacted to it but all of those still watching the Pacific Golden Plover remained unmoved. I phoned Jim but was met by his phone voicemail so could only leave a hurried message and hoped that he'd pick it up before he left, I could still see his car parked up so knew he was still on site. Mrs Caley and I were already enjoying the Black Stork though as we watched it slowly approach.

Black Stork

Memories of watching last years Lammergeier surfaced in my head as the similar sized, but entirely different looking bird sailed ever closer to our watchpoint. I messaged Jim again, for some reason I wanted him to see it more than I did, but again there was no reply, so I concentrated on staying focussed on the Stork and taking a few more pics. I remembered that, despite the bird that we'd found for ourselves at Dungeness flying very low overhead, my flight shots of the species were pretty awful, there was no time that day to adjust camera settings, so here was an opportunity to make up for that. Unfortunately the Stork must have known that too because instead of keeping a level flightpath as it came towards us it decided to start circling and gain height so that when it did finally pass directly overhead it was a half mile high in the sky! Oh well, record shots are important.

We watched the Black Stork fly high directly over the visitor centre and disappear towards Boston. It presumably headed back to Freiston Shore where it had also been spending some of its time. Jim called to say that luckily he had emerged from the visitor centre ready to head home and noticed a couple of folk staring skywards so he joined them and found the Stork as it drifted away so he had his life tick after all. We walked along the seawall hoping to finally find a Short-eared Owl for our own year list. Shorties are usually one of the first Owl species we see every year but somehow we had failed to see any this year. We had seen the other four breeding species, including scarce Long-eared Owls, so needed the Short-eared version to complete a nap-hand. There is a line of old fence posts that stretch out onto the salt marsh and I thought that they would be a good place to look for the Owls which had been seen in the general area. Conveniently there was a bench at the spot where we'd decided to stop so we settled down and I set up the scope for a scan of the marsh. I looked through the eyepiece and immediately saw a Short-eared Owl flying away from us about a hundred metres away. It was as easy as that and we had our 225th species for the year. Unfortunately the Owl, or the juvenile that I spotted stood atop one of the fence posts deigned to come in any closer but it was good to finally complete the set (Snowy Owl excepted of course).

Short-eared Owl

We saw Jim strolling towards us via the path that runs through the grassland, he had decided to stay on after all and try for a better look at the Stork which had apparently flown back to Frampton while our backs were turned and settled in amongst the cattle. I scanned the fields several times but couldn't find the three feet high bird anywhere. How a bird the size of a small child could disappear in an open and flat landscape struck me as amazing. We continued on our way back to the car, making a brief stop at the scrape next to the parking area to enjoy the sight of a dozing Little Stint which was slumbering in unison with a couple of Dunlin.

Little Stint, left & Dunlin, right

A shout went up from a chap a little further along the path, "Stork, Stork!" The Black Stork was in the air again, it had taken off from slap bang in the middle of the grassy fields so had been there, hidden in one of the many ditches no doubt and was now circling and gaining height as they are so good at doing. We watched it get higher and higher, all the time directly in line with the sun which made viewing difficult. When it soared over our position headed northwards again, it was even higher up than it was before. There was to be no close views of this particular Stork.

There was a huge chunk of the reserve and many birds that we didn't see on this visit but we drove home happy enough. Until we found the A16 closed to traffic that was, which entailed a rather grumpy, longer than usual trawl around the houses, and a route home taking in Stamford and Kettering. Despite that irritation, it won't be long before we visit Frampton Marsh again!