Month: February 2018

Willow & Marsh Tits, Banbury

Personally I have never found distinguishing Marsh and Willow Tits particularly easy. The scolding “taah, taah, taah” call of Willow Tit was always a good basis, but that wasn’t helpful in birds which did not call. In silent birds the pale wing panel and more bull-necked appearance of Willow Tits seemed the best features, though these seemed more obvious in birds that I saw in Europe than in British Willow Tit candidates. Then in 2009 British Birds published updated criteria for separating these two similar species. The size of the bib and the glossy cap of Marsh Tit were demoted as less reliable features. The most reliable criteria seemed to be song, call, an unmarked upper mandible in Willow Tit and a strong contrast between the white cheeks and the pale brown neck sides in Marsh Tit:

This morning Dave Lowe and I paid a visit to the wood just north of Grimsbury Reservoir in Banbury, pretty much the only reliable site in the county for seeing Willow Tit. It was a cold, sunny morning but we worked our way through the riverside trees finding Goldfinches, Siskins, a single Lesser Redpoll and Blue, Great, Coal and Long-tailed Tits. After about 15 minutes I picked out an all dark-headed Tit in trees on the far bank of the River Cherwell:

Fortunately, it and another similar bird, did the decent thing and flew across to our side of the river where we enjoyed good views of this pair of birds feeding in the wood. On three occasions we heard the “taah, taah, taah” call and at no time the loud “pitchoo” of Marsh Tit. Both birds had a pale wing panel, formed by pale creamy edges to the tertials and secondaries, though these were more obvious in one bird than the other. This was the bird with the brighter pale wing panel:

Meeting the other criteria for Willow Tit on the other bird required some work! In bright sun some images seemed to show that there were pale markings on the bill (but could this be reflected sunlight?): 

But it was the contrast between the white ear coverts and the pale brown neck sides, of which there is little in Willow Tit, but much contrast in Marsh Tit, that I struggled with the most. Both the pictures above and below do show a clear contrast between the white ear coverts and the buff neck sides on this bird, a better feature for Marsh Tit:

Compare the buff colour of the neck area behind the ear coverts on the two images above with the clean white colour on the bird with the brighter wing panel, below:

I posted some of the above pictures on the Oxon Birding website as Willow Tits at Grimsbury Reservoir and Richard Broughton came to the rescue:

“Hi Tom, definitely Marsh and a Willow in those pics – maybe the nightmare scenario of a mixed pair! Pics 1, 4 & 5 are Marsh, the others are Willow. Cheek pattern (white/grey) and pale bill mark are definitely there in the Marsh (see especially pic 5 where the bill is in shade, and the white mark shows nicely). Clear dark bill on the willow in pic 3, and undertail also shows the graduated tail tip (at least 3 feather tips visible in steps, sometimes shown by adult marsh, but generally a good pointer for willow). Pic 2 also shows willow tit pattern on greater coverts – dark centres and contrasting pale margin (new feature: http://nora.nerc.ac.uk/id/eprint/517411). Had another report of mixed pair up north last year – the Marsh Tit was even ringed as a Willow by mistake (out of usual range), and seemed paired with a Willow. Oddly, it seemed to be mimicking willow calls when associating with Willows, and only gave a pitchoo call in response to playback. There a record in the literature of a mixed pair attending a nest, so they might be able to hybridise (never been proven genetically). Cheers, Richard”.

If both species are present, then extra caution is required when looking out for Willow Tit at this site in Oxfordshire! All in all a thoroughly enjoyable and instructive morning.

Hawmageddon!

The unprecedented numbers of Hawfinch in southern England are now well documented, but this week I came across reports of a huge Hawfinch flock near Box Hill in Surrey, totalling at least 250 birds.  These birds were found by Steve Gale who also got Peter Alfrey in on the act. Peter’s account of coming across this mega-flock of hundreds of Hawfinch is well worth a read and is here. Realising that this may be a once in a lifetime experience to see a huge Hawfinch flock in the UK I visited Ashurst Rough Wood, just east of Box Hill Country Park, this morning. There are a number of wooded hills in the area, with stands of Juniper among the deciduous trees:

As I made my way up to the local high point of Juniper Top I could hear Hawfinch calling in the woods, I had brief glimpses of 2 flying birds and found another pair perched up in bare branches. Most of the birds were lower down, feeding and flying between Ashurst Rough Wood and Bramblehall Wood. This valley was bursting with Hawfinch activity! I spent 90 minutes here and there was hardly a moment when I was not watching or listening to Hawfinches. Birds would fly between the two woods, sometimes as individuals…

.. but often in small flocks:

Occasionally larger flocks of birds, one nearly 50 birds strong, would swirl around the tree tops, or fly across the valley:

One such flock passed right overhead and the birds settled in the treetops, high up on the slope behind me. The woods were then filled with the calls of vocal Hawfinches, both the hard “ptik” call and the softer “zih” call. The sound of calling Hawfinches drowned out all other birdsong, was I really in England?! Scanning through the treetops also revealed flocks of Hawfinches perched up in bare branches before they dropped down to feed:

I estimated that I saw around 150 Hawfinch in total, based on counts as the small flocks gradually made their way south down the valley. However, with so many flocks swirling around the true number could easily be significantly higher. The views of the birds were usually in the medium distance and always in flight or perched, I saw no birds on the ground. However, this was a fabulous birding experience, 90 minutes of continuous Hawfinch activity, at times I felt surrounded Hawfinches, both in sight and in sound. Just incredible!

The Cairngorms: a few birding moments

How many birding trip reports begin with the words “this was not a birding trip“? Certainly lots of mine have. Usually because the trip was a family holiday with some birding moments snatched from family time. This three day trip to the Cairngorms in mid-winter did not come into that category. There were birding moments, but this time they were snatched during a winter skills course on the Cairngorm plateau.  We would be hiking, using crampons and ice axes and improving our map reading, compass and navigation skills. Joining my brother Alex and I, would be our brother-in-law Bryce, Alex’s nearly-eighteen year old son and his friend and neighbour Steve. We began at the valley bottom in the west Cairngorms, where there were a few centimetres of standing snow:

As we climbed, the snow cover became consistent and knee deep:

As we slogged up towards the plateau we stopped at an exposed ridge. The wind had carved a gully from the snow and ice and it was here that we would practice  our crampon and ice axe skills. The wind here was fierce, around 70mph, whipping snow into our faces:

As I waited to climb the ice, I glanced down and I thought I saw a movement against the frozen walls of the lower gully.  It was difficult to make much out in the hurricane of wind driven spindrift, but then a moving black line caught my eye. I had seen that before.  “Ptarmigan!” I called and I tried to give directions, shouting into the wind to get the others onto a white shape on a white background. Fortunately three more Ptarmigan walked up into the gully to join the first bird, before they began feeding on exposed heather tips.  Having checked with our instructor that it was safe to move further down the gully, I crept closer only to disappear up to my waist in deep snow. It provided camouflage if nothing else!

The camouflage of the Ptarmigan was much better than mine. A male and three females were present, the male with a dark eye-mask, the females without. One female (the far-right bird, below) had just started growing a few darker breeding plumage feathers on the breast, but apart from that these birds were the same colour as their surroundings, beautifully camouflaged in white:

After feeding for a few minutes, the 4 Ptarmigan walked up the side of the gully and took off, suddenly revealing their all-black tails. The male bird is far left, the three females are together on the right:

In glorious late afternoon sunshine, but with hurricane strength winds, we began our descent. By the time we had reached the lower slopes the water bottle in my backpack had frozen:

Neil, our instructor, pointed out a saucer-shaped lenticular cloud forming above the large cloud at 9 o’clock, left of centre in the picture below. These clouds are carved from the wind as stable air flows over an area of turbulence, created by the mountains themselves:

I found this fantastic poster about lenticular clouds online, “Come see the lenticular clouds of the mountains“!

We over-nighted in a bothy, effectively a shed without water or electricity, but it did have a wood burner which kept the temperature just above freezing.

Overnight it snowed heavily. It took an hour to get our vehicle down the steep track from the bothy, though a calling  Crossbill was a nice bonus.

Unfortunately there had been too much snow. So much in fact, that the road to the ski area, our planned start point of the day’s hike, was closed. Neil adjusted our plans and we set off up Meall a’ Bhuachaille, a much milder hike than the one we had anticipated. The snow covered landscape was a delight. This old Scot’s pine stood out, dark in a white panorama:

Steve, my brother’s neighbour, is a professional tree man. I was impressed at his ability to look around and identify pretty much everything arboreal. This is how birders must appear to non-birders when it comes to identification, I mused. Steve showed me how Scot’s Pines have needles in pairs that twist around each other:

We left the trees in the valleys and began climbing up:

We were standing at this spot, above, when I noticed a small flock of birds feeding on the snow, high above us. My optics were still in my pack, but what species of passerine would feed up around 1000m (3,000 feet) and in the snow? Snow Buntings would be my first guess. However, when the flock took to the wing a few moments later, they all proved to be Bullfinches! 8 males and 1 female had been feeding on exposed heather tips, in deep snow, quite a way above the treeline. 

We  headed further up, practising navigation and taking various types of bearing:

Regular scanning of the horizon (not always easy when trying to keep a sound footing walking uphill on snow) eventually produced a large soaring raptor. I was hoping for Golden Eagle, but the broad wings and short white tail of an adult White-tailed Eagle became apparent as the bird headed towards us and passed directly overhead. The photo below was taken with my standard landscape lens:

Below, the view down to Loch Morlich… 

… where we eventually ended up. The northern corries looked fabulous from here, pristine white and bathed in late afternoon sun:

The Cairngorms in winter are fabulous, but lethal. There were 5 deaths on the plateau in the three weeks before we arrived. Navigating in white out conditions is a real skill, getting lost in white out conditions is often fatal. I would want to be at least twice as good at navigation as I am, before I attempted a winter hike on the plateau. The scenery and the birds are pretty special though and this course was a great start at learning the skills needed to see them both safely in winter.

Smew, Henley Road GPs

A calm, sunny visit to Henley Road GPs near Reading (but crucially, just in Oxfordshire) produced a nice Smew this morning. The first bird in my first scan was a male Wigeon, far right in the picture below. The second, a redhead Smew, second from right. A pleasantly quick result:

After a few moments, the Smew pulled out of the water and perched for a while…

… before continuing fishing under the overhanging branches:

Aging redhead Smew appears to be a tricky affair, as adult females and juvenile birds are very similar. Collins mentions that juveniles have a greyer, less white belly and that the loral area remains brown in their first autumn and “sometimes for longer”. This bird was too distant for me to to be certain of either of those features, so remains an ageless redhead (!).

The bird was here, at 10am today:

Northmoor Churchyard Hawfinches

The Hawfinch invasion of 2017 brought large numbers of these fantastic finches into the county. I enjoyed catching up with some of the vanguard back in October, see here, but I wanted some more good views of these birds, just in case they all disappeared in the spring! The churchyard at Northmoor has held a small flock of Hawfinches since the autumn, so I paid a visit this morning.

I began by scanning the trees in the churchyard, checking the higher exposed branches for perched birds and the dense yew trees for signs of feeding birds, hidden away in their depths. I regularly looked around for flying birds and listened for the flight call. I checked the trees at the front of the churchyard, then walked quietly around to watch the trees at the back, before returning to the trees at the front again. This seemed like a sensible strategy but after half an hour it had produced zero Hawfinches. I had seen a fly-over Red Kite, Buzzard, Sparowhawk, Kestrel and even a circling Peregrine:

After nearly an hour, I was getting seriously cold and was in despair about why I had not located a single Hawfinch. Perhaps the regular raptor flyovers were keeping the Hawfinches secretive? Was I to be the only birder in the county to come here and not see Hawfinch?! Then an elderly couple enter the churchyard, both wearing binoculars. “Have you seen any Hawfinches?” they call, “this is the fourth spot we have tried for them, we keep missing them”. I have to admit that my heart sank. Having more people wandering around would not increase my chances of seeing these shy finches.

Nevertheless, I went over for a chat and the couple told me that they had read reports of the birds feeding at the back of the church. I had checked those trees even more frequently than the ones in front of the church, as they were out of the wind. “Let’s have another look” I suggest and we walk around behind the church. Immediately the elderly woman calls “There’s one” and points up to a single bird in the tree behind the church. I lift my binoculars and look at the bird. There is a Hawfinch perched in the exposed branches in the top of the tree. I must have checked that tree twenty times in the last hour. The couple have been in the graveyard for less than a minute!

We admire the bird and after a few minutes it starts calling. Not the hard “tick” call, but something more like the soft flight call:

[Ruud van Beusekom, XC298155. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/298155]

The Hawfinch then flew to the tall trees at the front of the church. As it leaves the tree, at least three other birds fly in to join it.

Hawfinches are masters of perching up quietly and using the shadows:

The small flock drops down to feed in the trees in the front corner of the churchyard. I then spend a fabulous 45 minutes watching feeding birds in the yew trees:

Their plumage breaks out their outline very effectively. In flight, in good light, the huge bill and tail tip glow white. But in the shadows of the trees, the white patches on the tail, undertail coverts and wing coverts blend in with the patches of sunlight between the branches, making them hard to pick out:

The black bib forms a triangular patch that perfectly mirrors the large pale bill, when viewed from below:

I saw the huge bill, famous for it’s power, being used to delicately pick out seeds from the tree:

This bird, below, is in mid-crack. The seed casing can be seen falling down, in front of the bird’s breast:

Hawfinches are superb birds. Although it took a while for the birds to come and feed, once they were settled it was fabulous to get close, relaxed views of what it historically a tricky bird to see in Oxfordshire. A fantastic morning and a reward for the slow and cold start.

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