Our last excursion of the year was made to the Somerset Levels and the RSPB's reserve at Greylake. The reserve is probably one of the least visited parts of the vast network of low-lying flooded land that make up the Avalon Marshes. Most visitors head to another RSPB reserve at Ham Wall, or to nearby Shapwick Heath. Luckily some local birders do keep a check on Greylake.
Our own personal history with Greylake amounts to just two previous visits and on both we saw a Spotted Crake. The first was by a lucky accident, we were on our way to Cornwall for a holiday in October 2009 and were exploring so pulled into Greylake just to investigate what was then, a new reserve. The site was pretty open with freshly dug ponds and newly planted reedbeds which had yet to grow into much. As we walked through the reserve, we noticed a small bird scuttling along the edge of one of the new pools. As we approached more closely we saw that it was a Spotted Crake, at the time only the second we'd seen. The bird was totally unfazed by anything and rather than keeping to cover as it is supposed to do, was quite happy to feed along the edge of the pool and often, even on the path that we stood on. On a couple of occasions it even ran through our legs! Of course, that was pre-camera days so we only have the memories implanted in our heads to remember it by. However, our second visit in September 2019 was made specifically to target another Spotted Crake. This time I was armed with a camera but the bird was much more elusive and it took us almost all day before we connected with it. In fact we'd given up and left the reserve defeated but wisely decided to turn around and go back and thankfully saw the Crake on our return (you can read about that here).
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| Spotted Crake (Porzana porzana), Greylake, 25-09-2019 |
Fast forward to the Thursday after Christmas when a birder visiting Greylake discovered a fine drake Baikal Teal amongst the thousands of wintering wildfowl. A Baikal Teal, presumably the same bird, had spent the winter of 2021-22 at the reserve but didn't return the following winter although there was one in Wales which was also thought to be the same one. Importantly that bird had been accepted as wild and a category A species so could be safely listed. We'd seen a male Baikal Teal before, in Yorkshire in May 2019 (read here), but that bird was considered to have doubtful origins. So we decided that we should travel to see this latest bird to replace our original record with a bonafide one.
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| Baikal Teal (Anas formosa), Hornsea Mere, 25-05-2019 |
There wasn't much room left in the carpark when we arrived just before nine o'clock. If all of the occupants of the cars were watching the Baikal Teal then we'd likely have to wait a while for a spot in the hide. As we togged up a Peregrine made a low swoop over our heads. The camera was still in the boot and by the time I'd grabbed it and switched it on, the falcon and flown past. I made the mistake of looking away so didn't notice that the Peregrine had done an about turn and was flying back the way it came, until it was almost too late. I quickly pointed the camera and managed a couple of frames but the settings were still set as per for my last trip out and all wrong for the conditions. Nevertheless, regardless of the quality of the photos, it was a thrill to see the awesome predator so close.
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| Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) |
As we approached the hide we heard maybe a half dozen or so Bearded Tits pinging away in the reeds on both sides of the boardwalk. It was a fairly windy morning so they must have been keeping low since we never saw any. Surprisingly the hide had only eight occupants and six of them were friends of ours! Four from Oxfordshire, Ady, Bryan, Mark & Annie and Rob & Thomas from Surrey. The Baikal Teal was close to the hide but initially, despite detailed directions from Thomas as to where it was hunkered down asleep, it took a bit of finding in the low light of the grey morning. It took a Marsh Harrier flying distantly past and the collective consternation of several thousand ducks, for the Baikal Teal to stick its head up and show us what he really looked like.
Of course I'd seen that Baikal Teal before in Yorkshire, and also many in captive collections, but I still thought, "Oh my gaudy!" at the colourful and variegated duck. The Baikal Teal had almost every marking that it could have and was embellished in a variable pallet of colours. A very dapper looking fellow indeed although the male Mandarin still trumps it. The continued presence of the Harrier meant that the whole flock of birds, consisting of Wigeon, Eurasian Teal, Shoveler, Gadwall and Lapwing as well as the Baikal Teal, was now very jumpy. They exploded into flight. I managed to capture the take off of the Baikal but soon lost it amongst the flurry of wings.
When the birds settled back down we now had the task of finding the Baikal Teal again. I jokingly suggested, "The first one to find it wins a Hot Dog!". My father used to say the same thing whenever we went out for a day and were approaching the sea or the funfair or such like. A minute or two later and it was me that found the Baikal Teal stood on the next strip of weedy vegetation left of where it had been originally. I'm not sure who was liable for the Hot Dog though. I guess I'll have to reward myself one day, in honour of my Old Man. Now that I'd relocated the bird, there was the task of helping the others find it again which wasn't an easy task owing to the thousands of birds still milling around. We also now had a different view of it, from front on which allowed scrutiny of the peachy-pink breast, grey flanks and two sharp white vertical marking at both ends of the body.
The birds were set up again but this time a few of us tracked it easily since it only flew a short distance to our right. Before any cameras could be trained on it, it was flying again, not for evasion but to get itself back to its favoured area of the flood in front of the hide. This time I was quick enough on the draw to fire off some shots, the outcome of which were fairly successful. I like to capture birds in flight because, after all, it's what they do.
Unfortunately, for those of us wanting to photograph the Baikal Teal, it decided to choose an isolated clump of grass stems to hide behind. Perhaps he was slightly conscious of his own extravagant appearance? We could still see the duck but the grass put paid to any better images, and was a bit annoying since the sun was now making an appearance giving us all better conditions for photography that we were all unable to capitalise on.
Preening over, the Baikal Teal swam back out into open water just at the same time as the sun disappeared behind a dirty great big cloud. At least we now had full appraisal of a fine looking bird and were able to appreciate the elaborate peach coloured wing feathers that overlap the back and sides of the bird when at rest. The Teal made its way back to the exact spot that we first saw it in, had a quick look around and went back to sleep.
Although we'd already seen some Waxwings on Boxing Day we thought we'd travel the half hour or so to Chew Valley Lake, the site of a few memorable bird encounters in the past including our first Laughing Gull, where there were three of everyone's favourite and ornate birds holding fort. Our Oxon friends were heading off to try for the Kentish Plover at Burnham-on-sea and then, at my suggestion, the Long-tailed Duck at Barrow Gurney. I knew that views of both were going to be distant at best and that time would be needed to maximise the chance of better views, plus high tide wasn't until the evening so the Plover would likely be elsewhere anywhere. We saw the Waxwings as soon as we drove into the carpark at Woodford Lodge. They were perched at the top of a tall silver birch tree. We parked got out of the car, went to the boot to get our optics, heard the lovely trill of one of the Waxwings, looked up, and then watched them all depart high over the wood behind us!
The Waxwings didn't return in the next fifteen minutes while we took our lunch break so we moved on, this time to the North Somerset coast and to a small rocky promontory which our good friend Mark, The Early Birder, had suggested as a good spot for seeing Purple Sandpipers. It took us a bit of searching to find the exact spot and then a bit longer to find any of the birds. We had arrived at low tide too so the Sandpipers wouldn't be active and would most likely be snoozing amongst the furthest seaweed covered rocks. There was a fairly strong breeze blowing across the rocks which made it tricky holding the binoculars steady enough to see anything but after a bit of searching I picked out three of the Sandpipers, as expected sat amongst the seaweed with their heads tucked away. I took a quick shot or two, showed Mrs Caley where to look and then headed to the nearest cafe.
While Mrs Caley took a rest in the car, I nipped back to the rocks to get a better view of the Purple Sandpipers. There is a tiny lighthouse halfway out to where the birds slumbered, so I made my way to it and then used the structure as a windbreak. Now I was able to steady the camera enough to get some reasonable shots of the three dozing Sandpipers. Not that they did much although the middle one did pop its head up for a few seconds.
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| Purple Sandpiper (Calidris maritima) |
A few metres away from the group of three, I spotted a bit of movement and found another Purple Sandpiper that had woken up momentarily for a small stretch and look around. It was soon napping again along with the others.
So the curtain was brought down on a momentous birding year for us both in which we'd seen twenty lifers and our highest year total by some distance.
Year List addition;
315) Baikal Teal
What a stunner!
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