Tick, Tick, Tick,.....Easy, Easy, Easy....! 10th October 2019

The purpose of us staying overnight in East Devon was so that we could visit the thriving Cirl Bunting colony at the small clifftop RSPB reserve at Labrador Bay, a few miles from Torquay. We've been stopping off there for several years now on our way to Cornwall to get our annual fix of the smart Buntings which are a very localised bird in Britain and mainly only found in the south-west. Labrador Bay offers a very easy chance of finding them and of seeing them well.

We pulled into the carpark that overlooks the sea, albeit from a few hundred metres up and as soon as I'd got out of the car I could hear the jingling call of a male singing away in the adjacent hedgerow. Perhaps the Bunting was registering the cash being inserted into the pay & display machine, having to pay over the top to park your car is an annoying and irritating "Tourist Tax" in the south-west. It wouldn't be so bad if some of the money was used to help conservation efforts but I fear that isn't the case. The Cirl Bunting must have been perched on the non-visible seaward side of the hedge though since I couldn't see it.

Mrs Caley and I walked our usual way around the reserve heading along the narrow hedge lined path towards a more open area where the carpark hedgerow could be viewed. The singing bird was still jingling away but it took me a few minutes to find it in the tangle of brambles. Bird number #270 for the Old Caley year and one of our guaranteed ticks in the bag.

Cirl Bunting

We continued on down the muddy path towards the open fields, thankfully the resident herd of cattle were in another place today (Mrs Caley doesn't like Cows much). We met a chap looking earnestly into one of the hedges and asked him what he'd seen. I assumed it was an insect or a tiny flower since he was sticking his binoculars right into the vegetated bank so was taken aback when he said that "a small bird had flown into that crevice there"! Thinking his next move would be to try and lever himself actually into the tiny space, he was that close, I left him to it and ushered Mrs Caley away. You meet some strange folk while birding and they meet stranger still when we're about!

We entered the field and immediately saw a number of Cirl Buntings since they flushed out of the weedy field margin at our approach. It always requires a bit of careful stalking to get close enough to them to obtain decent images. For the next half hour the Buntings teased us by staying out of reach of my lens although we were getting plenty of good views. Eventually one of the flock, a female, obliged us by briefly perching prominently and I rattled off a few frames. 

We watched the flock periodically fly into the field to feed amongst the stubble purposefully left for them as a winter foodstuff and then back to the hedges when disturbed either by a walker or a Kestrel flying low overhead. Leaving Mrs Caley sat on a wooden bench I edged closer to the bottom boundary of the carpark field to try to get some better shots. Using the hedges as cover I managed to get within 20 metres of a group of birds that were resting in a bramble patch. The birds were flying down the cliffside to feed amongst the rank grasses and then returning to the brambles. There were a few of the fine male birds amongst them but they were staying frustratingly partially hidden so I settled on more photos of the female.

Other birds were also feeding alongside the Cirl Buntings and I noted Meadow Pipits, Goldfinches and a pair of Stonechats as well as the ubiquitous Robins, Wrens and Dunnocks.

Meadow Pipit

Robin

Stonechat

Secreted behind an isolated clump of gorse I was now just around ten metres away from the brambles that the Cirl Buntings were perching in. The flock of birds were more settled now and were appearing on the wire fence and then dropping into the long grass at the field edge. There were some fine males amongst them too.

One of the males finally took a perch at the top of the bramble bush allowing me to get a couple of better images. There can't be many British breeding birds as smart as male Cirl Buntings, even when slightly subdued post breeding, with that striking black and yellow head pattern and the green, yellow and rusty underparts coupled with the rich rufous wings and back.

For a change we were blessed with sunshine too which made the birds look even better and of course helped my photography. My luck was in when the bold male bird flew down to feed on a muddy tractor track barely five metres away from where I stood behind the gorse bush and my patient stalking was rewarded with some of the best views I've had of the species. The Cirl Bunting had a feather sticking out on either side of its body which gave it a slightly comical air.

I sent Mrs Caley a text to get her to join me, since the Cirl Bunting was settled and feeding well. The male Cirl Bunting continued to peck away and moved back onto the grass where it even playfully tugged at a wispy grass stem.

But there were some very good birds to see down in Cornwall so we pulled ourselves away after an hour or so delighted at the views we'd had and the welcomed year tick.

The drive to Porthgwarra was easy enough even allowing for the well known A30 single carriageway bottleneck at Indian Queens and just over two hours later we were parking up in the famous carpark. The trees here were the setting for our first (and only) Yellow-billed Cuckoo in 2014 and our first Red-eyed Vireo three years ago. We had come to twitch another Red-eyed Vireo now which had been found a couple of days ago and was mainly frequenting the carpark sallows and trees around the famous "Doctor's Garden". There were maybe a dozen or so fellow twitchers lined up staring at the Sallows who we joined after paying the extortionate parking fee. Apparently the Vireo had last been seen at 10 o'clock and not since, it was now past two in the afternoon, but was supposedly loyal to a particular clump of sallows in the carpark which everybody stared at and into. None of the people present had seen the bird and were just acting on hearsay so after ten minutes of fruitless looking I decided that it would be worth casting the net and checking other areas.

It was a hunch that paid off almost immediately! We walked up to the carpark end of the Doctor's Garden and I noticed a movement in one of the small trees. I locked onto it and almost fell over in shock because I noticed an olive green bird with a darker cap which just had to be the Red-eyed Vireo! The bird hopped into another tree and then showed briefly again before disappearing. I really couldn't believe my luck but unfortunately Mrs Caley had missed it. For the next ten minutes there was no further sign of the Vireo and I began to harbour those self doubts that arise. Did I really see the Red-eyed Vireo? Well, I was pretty sure that I had but I needed a better view and hopefully a photo or two for proof and of course I had to get Mrs Caley onto it as well.

I looked back at the other birders but they were all still looking at the sallows. We studied the trees in front of us, every bird that appeared was inspected closely but most were just Great and Blue Tits. A Spotted Flycatcher appeared in what I think was a small sycamore but I admit that my tree ID skills are very limited so it may have been some other type, although I do know which side of a tree is the front!

Spotted Flycatcher

A Chaffinch landed in the top of a shrub that had big ivy type leaves, again I have no idea as to what type of shrub it actually is, and as I locked onto that I noticed a slightly smaller bird deep in the dark recesses of the bush. Instantly I knew that this wasn't a Great Tit or a Dunnock or a Robin or anything like that and waited patiently for the bird to show. I urged Mrs Caley to watch the "dark hole in the bush". A few seconds later and the Red-eyed Vireo emerged into view! I felt elation at now having my earlier sighting confirmed and even better when I grabbed a record shot to cement my sighting. Only the two of us had seen it since all of the other birders were still stood gawping at the sallows in the carpark and chatting idly. I tried to attract their attention but no heed was paid to my arm waving and I wasn't about to leave the bird now I had it pinned down.

Red-eyed Vireo

Red-eyed Vireos are North American migratory songbirds that sometimes get blown off course and end up on the wrong side of the Pond. This autumn has seen a large arrival of the rather stunning birds with at least twenty being recorded in Ireland and the UK. We could still see the Vireo, #271 on the year list, hopping about in the back of the bush but frustratingly not in clear view. Then another Chaffinch landed in the bush above it and the Vireo made to move towards it. A couple of seconds later and we had our clearest views as the Red-eyed Vireo appeared right at the edge of the shrub and lingered for a while before hopping into an adjacent sycamore. 

In the sycamore the Vireo was giving fantastically close views but frustratingly always kept behind branches making any clear shot with the camera impossible. By the time I elected to focus manually the bird flew to the right and was lost to view.

Finally another couple joined us and I related the sighting and showed the photos I had taken. The chap, a really nice fellow living on Anglesey said that he had told the rest of the birders to watch "that couple" over by the Doctors Garden and they had to a man, and woman, replied "no, the Vireo is in the sallows here"! More fool them! But for now the Vireo had gone to ground and after a while the other couple left to bird elsewhere. They obviously told the rest of the assembled that we'd seen the Vireo since now the carpark gaggle was breaking up and people began wandering up the road towards the house but still above us stood below the road in the field.

The flock of birds started drifting by again and sure enough the Vireo was part of it. This time it only lingered momentarily in the bush before flying into the scrub on the roadside bank. We followed it as it edged through the mass of branches and twigs but I struggled to get the camera on to it. After a few failed attempts I managed to get some frames of it right at the top of the thicket but irritatingly the bird had its head turned away! Bird photography can be very trying sometimes.

I spotted the Vireo for one last time deep in the thicket and took a last frame or two. It wasn't a nice afternoon weather wise so all of my images are on the grainy side but at least I had something to decorate this blog with!

Even though we could no longer see the star bird we could still follow it since it was calling frequently, emitting a nasal "chwaay" every few seconds. Others had also seen it briefly when it was at the top of the bush but despite further searching it wasn't relocated. Showing far better was the Spotted Flycatcher which also appeared to be part of the flock that contained the Red-eyed Vireo.

There was another bird on offer nearby at Nanquidno which by chance was the closest of the Cornish Valley hotspots to our holiday cottage. Having been birding in Cornwall for over twenty years I know the roads well now so when we came across a mini traffic jam caused by a nervous motorhome owner becoming entangled with a lorry on one of the narrow roads I was able to detour around it with ease. We parked up and walked a short distance back up the road where a Red-breasted Flycatcher had been seen over the past couple of days. Our newly made friend from Anglesey was there along with a few other birders but they'd not seen the Flycatcher in the last hour or so. In fact one of the locals related that it hadn't been seen since the morning but then gave precise details of where the bird usually showed. I centred my efforts on those spots and once again within minutes, and proving that lightning can strike twice, I saw the Red-breasted Flycatcher zip up and land on an exposed branch! The man from Anglesey couldn't believe my luck! 

Red-breasted Flycatcher

The Red-breasted Flycatcher made it #272 for the year and the third year tick in just five hours. At this rate we'd have 300 before the end of the holiday (no chance of that really, of course)! The Flycatcher had chosen an awkward spot though and viewing was distantly into a dark copse and an ivy covered hedge made things tricky for Mrs Caley who, being shorter, couldn't see parts of the trees that I could resulting in her not seeing the bird at all except when it flitted up high enough for a second or two on a feeding grab. Over the next hour we had maybe another three quick shows from the bird but it was always shrouded in the shadows of the trees. We've now seen around half a dozen Red-breasted Flycatchers, all except one in Cornwall, and all first winters so we've yet to see an actual "red" breasted one!

What a terrific start to our trip, a day we'll remember for some time, but we had to check into the cottage and do the necessary provisions run. I doubt every day will be as easy as this one but we went to our temporary home feeling very optimistic that a great weeks birding was beckoning.

Another Dorset Day! 9th October 2019

Our third visit to Dorset in just over a week but this time not to twitch anything in particular but a whole day out at Portland and Weymouth before going onwards to Cornwall tomorrow. We make an annual visit to see Cirl Buntings at Labrador Bay near Torquay on the way to Cornwall so usually take a day birding either in Dorset or Somerset and then stay within easy reach of the Cirl Buntings. 

For a change the drive down to the south coast was made in fine weather, rain free, and we made decent progress. We made our usual pit stop at the Vine Cafe at Sturminster Marshall and debated whether to go to Radipole in Weymouth first to look for Bearded Tits or go straight onto Portland. We elected for the Weymouth option, because it was closer and we were keen to get the holiday birding list rolling, and then changed our minds almost immediately since a Richard's Pipit, needed for our year list, had been seen on Portland right by the carpark at the Bill. A twitch after all. It pays to be flexible in this game! 

We were parked up less than an hour later and togged up as fast as we could. It was very breezy at Portland Bill with strong winds straight out of the south west. The Pipit had been reported as being present "in and around the Qinetiq Compound" which is right next to the carpark. Frustratingly there were no other birders around and the compound is fairly large so we wouldn't know exactly where to look. We walked around the perimeter, the installation has a high fence around it but only found Stonechats, Linnets and Meadow Pipits. Every bird was scrutinised and I re-familiarised myself with the Richard's Pipits call but there was no sign of it so it must have moved on.

male Stonechat

Because it was so breezy I decided to have a look at the sea in the hope that some seabirds would be passing close to the cliffs. In the next half hour though we only saw Gannets and Shags so assumed that the wind had to be stronger or had to be from a different compass point to be more productive. A Raven flew over calling raucously and I took that to mean, in true GoT fashion, to beat a retreat to the cafe for a coffee. Almost a month ago we had watched an extremely confiding Lapland Bunting by the cafe in what turned out to be an extremely good day. After the coffee and cake we walked eastward towards the Observatory and Huts and onward from there to a disused quarry where we'd seen Little Owls before. You can never get enough of Owls!

Raven

What a difference a month makes. On that day in September the cliff top fields were rammed full with Wheatears and Yellow Wagtails and there was a constant procession of Swallows and House Martins flying south. Today the fields were pretty much empty except for just a couple of Wheatears and although vismig was still happening there were far fewer hirundines heading out. Plenty of small flocks of Linnets and Meadow Pipits were migrating past still and some would occasionally pitch down into one of the small coves. At the Bill, stood against the strongest wind earlier, I was amazed to see Swallows and Finches flying straight out over the sea into the wind. They are certainly hardy little souls driven by that insatiable desire to head to warmer climes for the winter. Bird migration is a marvel.

Northern Wheatear

Just before the disused quarry I noticed a "white" bird sat on the grassy cliff top and on approach was surprised to see an adult Arctic Tern, presumably resting before continuing it's own migration. As everybody knows, or should know, Arctic Terns make the longest migration journeys of any creature on the planet, travelling all the way from the high Arctic to South America and even the Antarctic. Simply incredible but of course Terns are built for long flights, much more so than those small American land birds that we'll be hoping for in Cornwall in the coming week.

Arctic Tern

The Arctic Tern was disturbed by a couple walking along the path but after a brief sortie out over the sea returned to the cliff top again. It was obviously determined to retain its resting spot since when ousted once more, it again settled back into the exact same spot.

There was no sign at all of the Little Owls, maybe it was too breezy for them and they'd decided to stay put in bed. It was time to move on so we regained the car, ignoring a report that a Wryneck had been caught and ringed at the Observatory and would be released into the gardens there. I don't view the practise of capturing birds in mist nets very kindly and abhor "trophy ringing" (the apparent challenge of catching a rare bird and then showing it off in the hand via social media) so don't think it right to "tick" any birds that have been captured. In fact I'd go further and suggest that it's wrong for any birder to count any bird that is "held in the hand" because to me that is akin to counting any captive bird such as those in zoos or aviaries which of course is entirely not on.  But, before my regular reader starts yelling at me, I do understand the requirement of mist netting birds for scientific purposes particularly at migration periods, but do worry that it is only us and not the birds that benefit from it.

Anyway leaving Portland behind, probably for the last time this year, but who knows when year listing, we headed for Lodmoor, another RSPB reserve in Weymouth, where the scrapes attract waders and other birds and you can often get really close views. A Grey Phalarope had been present for a few days and even though we'd seen one just a couple of weeks ago nearby at Stanpit Marsh, they're always nice birds to see. We made for the "Gazebo" a rudimentary shelter, useful when the rain comes in which was frequent now this afternoon. Passing the scrape a Great Egret was stalking prey in the shallow water, it then obliged by flying past on its way to another part of the reserve. Great Egrets are elegant members of the Heron family and it's only ten years ago on our return home from a Cornish holiday that we saw our first one at Chard in Somerset and yet now, because we see them so often, we have become sadly so blasé about them.

Great Egret

A juvenile Herring Gull was attacking what at first looked like an egg. But eggs are not normally completely round and this object was so I think it was a small ball of some sort, maybe a fishing net float. The young Gull had managed to damage it but I'm guessing it was just a game rather than a worthwhile feeding exercise.

juvenile Herring Gull

There was no sign of the Grey Phalarope, a good job it wasn't required for the year list and vindicates the hastily made decision to go to Stanpit Marsh for the one there! We headed down to the west scrape where there were more wading birds. Last time we were here a Lesser Yellowlegs graced the reserve. It kept company at the time with a "white-headed" Ruff. The Ruff, assuming it's the same one but it certainly looked the same, was still on the scrape but the scarcer bird has been absent for a few months now.

male Ruff

Black-tailed Godwits feed in the muddy water and offer really good views. I found one having a nap and for once my subject was bathed in lovely sunshine, a commodity in poor supply this year. The Godwit, in keeping with most birds kept a watchful eye out whilst lazing the time away.

Black-tailed Godwit

Little Egrets in contrast were busily hunting the shallows. There were maybe twenty or more dotted around the scrapes and channels with a couple quite close to the path. Does anybody else other than me start singing "The Simpson's" theme tune and think of "Mr Burns" when looking at Little Egrets? Ok, just me that's a nutter then! Thought as much.

Little Egret (aka Mr Burns)

Another Black-tailed Godwit was just feet away from the path and I had to walk backwards away from it to get the bird into focus. Lodmoor is a bird photographers dream and I realise now why so many really good images are posted online by Toggers in the area. 

There was still no sign of the Phalarope, it would reappear after we left of course, so I studied the small flock of Gulls loafing on a muddy spit. At one end were Black-headed Gulls and at the other, the more prized (to an Oxfordshire birder at least) Mediterranean Gulls. There were twenty-seven Med Gulls in all trumping the number I've seen in Oxon this year by about twenty-five! One of the Med Gulls very obligingly took a short flight, unfortunately the sun had decided to do a bunk so I was caught out with my camera settings, a good pointer why professional photographers have my upmost respect!

Mediterranean Gulls (adult top three, 1st winter bottom)

We needed to get moving so reluctantly left admiring another beautiful Black-tailed Godwit on the way out.

Radipole Lake has never been kind to us and we have no luck whatsoever in getting views of Bearded Tits there despite hundreds of crippling photos of them being posted online almost every week. But Radipole is just a short drive from Lodmoor so we dropped in for an hour anyway. I saw one Beardie and that was a very fast flypast over the reeds at about fifty metres away! We'll stick to Somerset and Titchwell for good views of them. We did have the scant consolation of seeing yet more Great Egrets.

We headed off to our overnight accommodation at the hitherto excellent Mason's Arms in Branscombe. Unfortunately something appears to be amiss at the Mason's and I'd no longer recommend it to people I like.