Category: Oxfordshire Birding

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.

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.

Standards are rising!

Many years ago, a man who goes by the name of Badger, decided it would be good to bring the local community of birders together for a Christmas meal. And so it was. Over time this festive meal became an established part of the annual routine for Oxfordshire birders. Last year Badger asked me to say some words at the end of the meal and together we handed out a few prizes, in recognition of the work local birders do. Not so much after dinner speaking, but more of a gentle dessert.

This year we went all out and held a review of the year, together with a full on Oscar-esque prize giving ceremony. Some prizes were obvious, such as Best County Find and Best Local Patch Find. Others were more tongue in cheek: the Best Oxon Bird Photo included three appalling photographs of birds in Oxfordshire and there were prizes for the Best Dressed Birder and, my favourite, the You’ve Smashed It Award for the person who had broken the most equipment in the calendar year. 2017’s winner had accidentally damaged a staggering £16,500 worth of lenses, hence the award’s alternative name “The Thank God for Insurance Award”.

Above: myself and Badger at the 2017 annual awards, ©Peter Alfrey

It is always great to get everybody together and such an event allows us to thank Badger and Adam for the tireless work they do in running the Oxon Bird Log. The open, free exchange of information on birds in the county is not something that happens everywhere and we should celebrate the fact we have an open, friendly birding community.

Many thanks also to Peter Alfrey, who not only turned up, but won a prize, took some pictures (above, thank you!) and even wrote a nice little blog piece, here. We look forward to seeing more of him and fellow recent addition to the Oxon birding community, Mick Cuningham, out in the field in 2018. Both have already found good birds in the county. Standards are rising!

A weekend in the woods: the 2017 Hawfinch irruption

Like a cherry stone in a Hawfinch’s bill, I cracked on Saturday morning. The second half of October has seen record numbers of Hawfinch arrive in southern England, presumably from the continent. Further north, there is little evidence of large numbers of birds passing through. For example, only small numbers of Hawfinch have been recorded at Spurn this autumn (see Mick Cuningham’s comment below for clarification). But for landlocked, migration-deprived counties such as Oxfordshire, this is a huge event. Seeing Hawfinch in Oxfordshire has always been difficult and usually required a number of visits to the miniature railway shed at Blenhiem Palace in early spring. Every time I went it was absolutely freezing. Once in a while, often after quite a long while, very small numbers of Hawfinch could be glimpsed distantly in the tree tops, before inevitably disappearing. 2011 was a good Hawfinch year in Oxfordshire: there were 11 records. By 2012, numbers had reduced to a single record.

The autumn of 2017 has changed everything. From mid-October onwards Hawfinch began being reported from all over the county, often fly-over birds migrating with Redwing. In the last 15 days of October 2017 there were 152 records from Oxfordshire (full details in the Oxon Bird Log monthly report here). Unfortunately October 2017 also proved to be the month that my business purchased new commercial premises and moved location. I had been fully committed to work issues all month, had done absolutely no birding and had barely even been outside. Thank goodness the Siberian Accentor irruption did not occur in 2017.

Friday night drinks with a few local birders began stiring my interest, a few of the guys had already added Hawfinch to their local patch lists or had sought out birds feeding in the woods in the Chilterns. When Andy Last popped into Standlake and recorded a fly-over bird with Redwings on the Saturday morning, I knew I had to get out and find my own. A quick negotiation for a couple of hours off childcare on Saturday afternoon and I headed south to the Highmoor area, near Nettlebed. Unsure of whether I should find a vantage point and hope for a fly-over bird, or go into the woods themselves, I decided to try both.  Almost immediately I picked up a distant flock of 5 finches flying in from the north. In binoculars they were unidentifiable at such range. I quickly took a few pictures, but even on the back of the camera, could make out virtually no detail. However, when I got home and processed the pictures, enlarging the birds to the point of pixelation, they did prove to be Hawfinches, not that I knew that at the time:

A few Siskins were moving around, 2 Lesser Redpolls flew south calling but there were no further Hawfinch candidates. I moved south into the woods and saw nothing but Redwings for an hour. They appeared to be feeding on the yew trees here. Then suddenly, where there had been nothing for an hour, there was a flock of 5 birds perched up in a nearby dead tree: 5 Hawfinches! A Waxwing-esque appearing trick. As I raised my camera, they flew deeper into the wood, taking a further 2 Hawfinch that I had not initially seen, with them. I stayed for another half hour or so and got further glimpses of a single Hawfinch in a treetop, but there was no further sign of the Hawfinch flock. The walk back was something of a finch-frenzy with Chaffinches, Bullfinches, Greenfinches and Goldfinches, the icing on the cake being a fine male Brambling:

Sunday morning involved an early morning run over my local Shotover Hill. Even here the woodland bird theme continued as I flush a close Woodcock from a secluded track. Now that local birders have migrating Hawfinch firmly on their radar, it will be interesting to see how many autumn records Oxfordshire will get in future years. Have we been missing something all along and it has taken an irruption of birds at a national level to increase our awareness of these fabulous flying finches?

Farmoor Reservoir: Red-necked Phalarope

Another day, another great bird at Farmoor Reservoir. This time the first Red-necked Phalarope at the reservoir in decades. Like yesterday’s Little Stint, it was a juvenile, very confiding and a pleasure to spend time with:

 

These birds have an incredible migration strategy. They breed on pools in arctic tundra, but winter at sea in warm tropical oceans. I have seen flocks of Red-necked Phalarope in the Arabian gulf in November – see here – and assuming this bird was from one of the northern European populations, it could be heading to join them. The small UK population that breeds on Shetland and the Outer Hebrides makes an even more incredible journey to the Pacific Ocean. They spend their winter around the Galapagos Island, off the west coast of South America – see here– one of the most remarkable migrations of any British breeding bird.

Farmoor Reservoir: Little Stint

An unexpectedly free morning allowed me to spend a couple of hours at Farmoor Reservoir today. The highlight was a bright juvenile Little Stint on the F2 side of the causeway, found by Dai Johns this morning, I think. It is always a treat to see these tiny arctic breeding waders in Oxfordshire. This bird, hatched this summer somewhere in the tundra of northern Norway or Russia, may never have encountered humans before. It fed quite happily on the shoreline, ignoring myself and passing walkers only a few meters away:

Below: This is my favourite picture from this morning. All the fabulous colours of the upperparts are visible here, plus the split supercilium. The bird also appears to have three wingtips, as the rufous-fringed tertials on the right wing, feathers which normally cloak the folded primaries, have been blown to one side:

Below: The short-tailed appearance is apparent here – it appears almost tail-less! The tertials are nearly as long as the primaries and cover the tail. After a short while, the Little Stint became less active…

… and then settled down for a nap, which was how I left it.

Farmoor can, at times, appear to be something of a depository for the near-dead and dying. Today’s ghouls included:

The living dead 1: adult Great Black-backed Gull. This bird is close to paying the ferryman. In fact, perhaps Farmoor Reservoir is where the ferryman lives? That would account for the number of dead and dying birds. There were at least 5 adult, 1 second summer and 2 first winter Yellow-legged Gulls on the reservoir, plus at least one first winter Great Black-backed Gull.

The living dead 2: the single juvenile Shag is still hanging on. This coastal species never seems to survive inland. This is the only remaining bird from the influx of 11 on 27th August. It has survived 24 days at Farmoor to date. How long to go?

Below, adult Cormorant. For bill and forehead shape comparison with the Shag, above. Cormorants have amazing eyes, both in colour and function. They work perfectly well underwater and in air.

Not dying, but a variant, the leucistic Coot is still present:

There were a couple of Common Sandpiper on F2 this morning, some of the last birds of year. Several hundred Swallow, with smaller numbers of House and Sand Martin were also present.

Otmoor: 17th May

I made a brief visit to Otmoor this morning, with only enough time to scan Big Otmoor for waders. The overnight rain had continued and was torrential at times. I set up my ‘scope and scanned the rear pool of Big Otoor and immediately my viewfinder was full of waders. This is how it should be! 7 summer plumaged Dunlin were nice, but it was a glowing white Sanderling that stood out, complete with black legs and thick black bill. With 3 Sanderling at Rushey Common yesterday and 3 at Farmoor and 1 at Grimsbury Reservoir the day before, it looks as if small numbers are passing through the county at the moment, presumably grounded by the recent rain.  I also got a brief view of a Black-tailed Godwit (perhaps one of the three present on Monday?) before it disappeared behind one of the islands, never to be seen again. If a wader of that size can go missing, what else might there be at the back of Big Otmoor, between the islands?

I am never ceased to be amazed at the detail modern cameras can capture. Taking record shots of calidris waders at that distance in the rain is probably a form of photographic madness, but you can make out the Sanderling in with the Dunlin… if you squint just a little:

It would have been good to have had another hour or so this morning, although I was saturated after 45 minutes. It felt like there should be more good birds waiting to be found on the reserve.

Common Scoters in Oxfordshire

Common Scoter winter off the coast of Western Europe, from northern Norway to Western Sahara. Spring migration sees birds moving north into the Bay of Biscay and then east across the North and Baltic Seas before an overland route to their breeding grounds in northern Scandinavia and Russia.

A recently published web article by The Sound Approach records the nocturnal migration of Common Scoter over the Iberian Peninsula and also includes this map of the breeding range:

© The Sound Approach 2017

The Sound Approach team mapped hypothetical migration routes, plotted from nocturnal sound recordings, as green dotted lines on the map above. By joining up the green dotted lines that pass from Iberia to those that pass across the English Channel, to those that represent the Baltic flyway, one can plot a path that passes across south-east England and potentially, Oxfordshire. Although these green lines are hypothetical migration routes, they neatly explain the pattern of records of Common Scoter in Oxfordshire.

Common Scoter in Oxfordshire is considered to be an annual scarce passage migrant, see the table below. An analysis of records submitted between 2002 – 2012 show three peak periods of occurrence. The first is in spring, with frequent records in March and April, which coincides with birds moving from wintering areas towards their breeding grounds.

The second peak of Common Scoter records in Oxfordshire is in July. These mid-summer records are noteworthy, as the table reveals that one of the best months for recording Common Scoter in Oxfordshire is outside of the expected spring and autumn passage periods.

This spike of mid-summer records may be explained by the complex post-breeding behaviour of Common Scoter. After breeding Common Scoter move to favoured moult sites. In the UK large gatherings have been reported off the east coast of Scotland and in Carmarthan Bay.  The numbers involved are far greater than the small UK breeding population of under 200 pairs, so must involve birds from other breeding areas. In Europe, an extensive moult migration takes place, with large gatherings of moulting Common Scoter in the Baltic, the eastern North Sea and off western France (The Migration Atlas, BTO, p.689) . The number of records of Common Scoter in Oxfordshire in July could be explained by birds moving towards moult sites after breeding.

The main bulk of Oxfordshire Common Scoter records are from the autumn and early winter period of September to December. This coincides with the movement of birds from their moult sites to their wintering grounds. Studies of the British breeding populations show that birds disperse widely to a range of wintering sites. The Icelandic population is the same: birds from the same breeding areas spend their winters in different wintering areas over a large geographical range. As such, birds from a wide range of breeding areas will move south and west in autumn and some of these birds may be attracted to large water bodies within the county as staging posts on their migration. Virtually all records of Common Scoter come from Farmoor Reservoir, in the period 2002 – 2012 there was just one exception, a bird at LWV pit 60 on 18th September 2006. As summer approaches, so will post-breeding Common Scoters, heading to a reservoir near you.

An Alfrey, two Robeys and a Garganey

With only a short time free on Monday morning, I popped into Otmoor in the hope of seeing a few waders. The cold northerly winds may have been keeping some migrant birds back, but the windchill was surprising for May and made using gloves essential. With limited time, I restricted myself to scanning Big Otmoor. The only waders present were all distant on the pools at the far side of Big Otmoor: 2 Little Ringed Plover, 2 Dunlin plus the usual breeding Redshank and Lapwings.  Then two familiar figures appeared on the bridleway, Pete and Steve Roby, two thirds of Team Greylag, one of our competitors on The Big Day last Saturday. They were moving around to get better views of a drake Garganey, perched up in distant poolside vegetation. They relocated the bird, which was mostly asleep, but occasionally it raised its head to show off the boldest supercilium in the birding world. I took a few speculative records shots with my camera, though this bird was small even in a ‘scope:

Above, drake Garganey, Big Otmoor. Below, Cuckoo in the bridleway hedgerow:

It is always good to see the Robys. But the biggest surprise of the morning was a figure that appeared leaving Otmoor as I arrived. Someone I have never met before, but who was immediately recognisable: Peter Alfrey. Peter is best known for his sterling work at the Beddington farmlands in south London, where he is partly based and for putting the Azores on the map as one of the western Palearctics migration hotspots. His epic 2005 visit is part of birding folklore. I looked up and there was the distinctive figure of Peter Alfrey, walking towards me. “Mr Alfrey?!” I exclaimed. I explained that we had never met, introduced myself and we chatted birds. Peter is now partly based in Oxfordshire, so may be seen more frequently on Otmoor. Look out for a dashing figure with a long bird list. We discussed his morning and the general lack of waders that we had anticipated. Speculation then turned to a Red-rumped Swallow joining the gathering of hirundines over the reedbeds or the possibility of a Red-footed Falcon joining the Hobbys over Greenaways. I reminded Peter where we were: this is Oxfordshire. He may require a period of adaptation. Welcome to Oxfordshire Peter, I hope you can cope!

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