Sunshine and Showers

Sunshine and showers...glorious weather one moment, pouring with rain and miserable the next. On days like these, waterproofs are dragged on just in time to see the end of the shower, and then packed away again as the next grey cloud rears it's ugly head.

On Friday, amidst the frustrating weather, I completed the first of my survey squares for Plantlife's Wildflowers Count 2012 (http://www.plantlife.org.uk). My survey route ran along the coast path in south Cornwall, near Pentewan; a stunning location.


About halfway along the survey, this Speckled Wood Butterfly (Pararge aegeria) was basking in the sun, and for once, I was fully prepared to capture it. These photos show just how papery thin the butterfly's wings are!



Although primarily found in woodland, they can also be seen anywhere that has sufficient scrub cover. There are three subspecies of this butterfly which are found across the UK; the colours of which change corresponding to location. This species is doing well throughout it's range, and is believed to be increasing. Nectar sources are also readily available with favoured species including bramble, ragwort, cuckooflower and dandelion.

I also was privy to a territorial battle between two male stonechats...each preaching from a separate fencing post.

Male Stonechats (Saxicola torquata) (pictured, right) have dark black heads, orangey-red breasts and a white collar. Their name is derived from their call which sounds like to stones being clicked together. They breed mainly in the south and west of Britain, and are more visible in coastal locations. This was my first stonechat sighting, and was an incredibly easy bird to identify. Atleast two females were nearby, and visually resemble the males although, as with many other birds, are toned down and duller in appearance.



Other sightings included a Swift (Apus apus) on the wing, identifiable by the deeply forking tail. There were several House Martins (Delichon urbica) flying at head height between the beach and harbour in Pentewan; the fleeting sunshine highlighted the glossy blue-black of their plummage. There were Pied Wagtails (Motacilla alba) (pictured, left) in a car-park area, and I stood and watched Grey Wagtails (Motacilla cinerea) hopping between jutting posts within the harbour. Despite it's name, this cheerful little bird brought a dash of colour and life to an otherwise dreary looking pond on a drizzly day. It was the first time I had seen a grey wagtail, but I won't be forgetting it in a hurry.

All this, plus the 20 species I recorded for the Wildlfower Survey 2012....not a bad morning considering the alternating sunshine and showers we experienced throughout.

Thanks,

Becky

All in a day's work

I spent Friday helping move Natural England owned ponies onto their 'new patch'. They had been in their previous location for a number of weeks and had done their job wonderfully. They have grazed back all the molinia/purple moor grass (Molinia caerullea) tussocks, the European gorse (Ulex europaeus) and willow sprouts, among other plants.

Their job is to munch their way through the vegetation as they see fit. They tend to take the luscious first, moving on to the edible, but less favoured patches later. They keep the vegetation at a non-uniform, low level, removing the need for time-consuming clearance work. By creating a patchwork of density and structure grazing helps encourage other plant species that may be out-competed by the larger scrub species which dominate the heath. The ponies are supposedly selective enough to leave the plants that are of high value to another of the moors important residents: the scabious plants. 


Devil's Bit Scabious (Succisa pratensis) is a food plant of the Marsh Fritillary butterfly (Nymphalidae euphrdryas) which has undergone a great range contraction in the past few decades (up to 66% of English populations lost from 1990 to 2000 (http://www.arkive.org/marsh-fritillary/euphydryas-aurinia/#text=All)). The butterfly favours open heathy grasslands such as that on parts of Goss Moor. 

The ponies have now been moved onto a patch of heathland where they have more gorse; both European and Western, as well as molinia and heather to munch their way through in the coming weeks. I have to say though, they look very lovely where they are at the moment. Visible from the multi-use trail, they set the scene from some historical romance novel perfectly.

The real delight though, will be returning to the patch they have just left in a few weeks time, to see what will pop up from the ground now it has been grazed. Only time will tell!

Thanks,

Becky

A Missed Opportunity

I'm sure the world is full of missed opportunities and fleeting moments of potential, but I still hate watching one disappear from right under my nose. 

Today, I came within 6 inches of stepping on an adult adder (Vipera berus) whilst it was basking in the afternoon sun. I was at Tregoss in Cornwall and luckily managed to redirect my step just in time to avoid trampling on it. With baited breath, I watched as it unwound itself from a tight coil, and lethargically slithered away into a nearby heather bush.

I had a good 30 seconds in which to capture this event, it's skin was crystal clear in the sunlight, and it's markings were beautifully striking. It would have made for a rather spectacular photo, and there was ample time to get my camera out of the case and snap away. 

Except...I had left it in the van, some 200m away! Argh! 

Adders are venomous and although a bite will cause considerable pain, it is unlikely to be fatal in adults. Adders mainly bite if they are trodden on, or threatened in some way, but in most situations, they will merely retreat to the safety of cover (as in this instance). They will then often return later to bask, once the danger has passed.

If threatened, they can make an 'S' shape with the front half of their bodies, in an attempt to deter the disturber. They may also make a prolonged hiss to warn potential rivals of their presence. Adders are protected in Britain by the Wildlife and Countryside Act of 1981, and as such, it is illegal to harm, kill or injure an adder. 

That was only the second adder I've seen in the wild, and so I am sure you can imagine how annoyed I am to have missed it....another day perhaps. 

A short one today, but thanks for reading all the same! 

Becky 

The Reluctant Birder

My enjoyment of birdwatching is a relatively new discovery which has only manifested itself in the last few years. I have gone from being unable to identify even the common chaffinch, to now, being able to identify many birds from their jizz or call alone.

I have unintentionally dragged others along with me in my new-found passion. I remember an hour spent in a hide with my reluctant younger brother and his girlfriend, trying to teach them the differences between blue-tits and great tits. I've pointed out to friends the names of different wildfowl and waders when on afternoon strolls in the park. I've made my mum complete the RSPB's Big Garden Birdwatch with me, and I've stopped working on the boat in order to grab my camera to catch a diving gannet or posturing seagull.

The one who has probably suffered the most though, is my boyfriend, Alex. I am forever pointing out birds and interrupting him mid-sentence to listen or look at a passing passerine.

On a recent weekend we spent in Hampshire, we walked from Buckler's Hard to Beaulieu (fantastic if ever you are in the area). It is a stunning walk along the banks of a tidal estuary with unspoilt habitats the whole way. We had barely got 5 minutes into the walk before we had to stop and snap away at photogenic avian individuals.

On walks such as this, we have fallen into a routine to share the camera. He will photograph anything he wishes, and I will photograph anything vegetative or avian in nature.

Halfway along the first stretch we came to a bird hide, for the use of anyone. I was eager to enter and spend a few minutes scouring the reeds for a glimpse of a heron or little egret. I have to say though, Alex was once again, forced to become 'the reluctant birder', pictured here, he has a look of resigned boredom. I asked myself the question, what is it like for a non-birder to tag along with a bit of a 'keeno', it was, after all, not that long ago, that I too was a 'non-birder'.

Birdhides really aren't the most exciting of places, silence is advised and if nothing is immediately visible (as was the case here), it remains a rather dull affair for a non-participating onlooker. Alex may have described it as something akin to watching paint dry.

So what attracts the birder to the hide? The anticipation that today may be the day that a previously unseen bird is spotted and committed to the memory bank? Or the chance to test identification skills if a myriad of birds were present? Perhaps. Alas, today was not the day for either- all we spotted was a pair of mallards skirting the reeds. On we went,  following a rather impatient plea from Alex.

At Beaulieu village, there is a lake held back by the tide gate. As we sat here, Alex proffered the identify of the black headed gulls (in summer coat), and the enduringly elegant mute swan. I'm sure there is a secret birder deep within him! One day it will be sparked into manifesting itself, and I can feel less selfish about burdening him with my hobby!


After the walk, we made the most of the beautiful weather, and headed south to Calshot where we parked the car and watched the sun setting over the water. I just couldn't resist one last cheeky look with the binoculars though...

In the meantime, while I'm waiting for his inner birder to (hopefully) reveal itself, I will just have to ensure he doesn't find the incessant avian based running commentary one burden too many!

There must be other people with a similar problem?

Thanks,

Becky

Settling down

My favourite time of year has begun: Spring! It is time for fantastic courtship displays and bizaare mating rituals to begin all over the country.

There was a somewhat turbulent start to Spring in my part of Cornwall with about three or four days of lovely, warm, clear, sunny weather closely followed by a thick fog that didn't lift for five days. Now though, we finally seem to back on track, and nature has embraced this second chance of new beginnings.The daffodils have long been out, primoses are flowering, and the crops are rising out of the fields around us. 

Outside my bedroom window the birds have (finally) taken to my feeder, and a pair of house sparrows are nesting in the guttering above my room (I daren't tell my father). Each morning, I am now awakened by glorious sunshine, with the view of sparrows, greenfinches, blue tits and great tits feeding about 2m away from me. The nesting sparrow pair are also constantly passing by my window with twigs and nesting material (all the while, driving my cat crazy with the apparent injustice of the window pane!). 

This is not the only sign of nature 'settling down' for the upcoming season to have reached my attention. I was at the rural cottages my parents own today (http://www.tucoyse.co.uk/), and in one of the upstairs windows, the jackdaws have unwittingly set their nest in a location offering a prime view to our visitors (photo). It remains to be seen whether or not they will abandon this nest upon  realisation that their secluded nest site is actually in the bedroom of a busy holiday cottage!

I'm due to put dormouse nest boxes out at Golitha Falls, a National Nature Reserve (NNR) in two weeks, and am spending tomorrow making some to put out on Goss Moor (another NNR). These boxes are also in anticipation of the upcoming breeding season, and are used by the dormice in the summer to sleep and breed.

We had two hen pheasants wander around the garden a few days ago. Their mission was to investigate every nook and cranny of the garden for potential nest sights. They even tested a few potential sites by sitting down in every which-way possible before deciding that no, this garden is not a suitable location. Although camouflaged within the undergrowth, a hen must choose a site that offers sufficient brood rearing habitat nearby for her chicks. Once hatched, they must eat a very high protein diet for the first few days, a diet they obtain from a vast number of invertebrates- this was what I suspect was lacking from our garden. 

So although the season is just getting under-way, I've already witnessed some of the best bits of Spring and I can't help but wonder what else I shall be privy to in the next month or so! Bring it on!

Thanks,

Becky

I spy with my little eye....

I spent an hour on Goss Moor in Cornwall this morning, doing some work towards a project I am completing in a volunteer capacity for Natural England.

Goss Moor is a combination of lowland heath and peatland. In layman's terms that means it is covered in big grassy tussocks, with pits of bog/ wet mud in between. All of this is interspersed with gorse bushes and wooded areas. 

I was, for want of a better word, 'tromping' across the moor, following a GPS to a particular grid reference. Atleast, I thought I was being rather noisy and heavy-footed (it is hard not to be when in wellies, puddles and mud). It would appear though, that I was quieter than I thought, because I got within about a metre of a water-rail before spooking it. 

According to the RSPB description of a water-rail (http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/w/waterrail/index.aspx), it is smaller than a moorhen, and has a 'grey face, chestnut brown upper-parts and black and white barred flanks'. This was only the second time I have seen one, but they appear to me to be a very distinctive bird, and not only because of the long red bill. 

They are apparently a very secretive bird despite being widespread and relatively common across most of England. They are birds which prefer well vegetated wetlands (Goss is both well vegetated and wet!), and actually have laterally flattened bodies to allow easier travel within reeds. 

They have a call which is comparable to a squealing pig and is heard much more often than the birds are seen (their call is also available to listen to on the link above).  

Water-rails are not a bird I am familiar with, but I have to say, I am disappointed I missed such a perfect photo opportunity. If only I had had my eyes on where I was going, and not on on my GPS unit! There is always another day, I suppose. 

Thanks, 

Becky 

A night-time wanderer

Staying in a flat in Gipsy Hill (SE London), I didn't expect to see an overly exciting display of wildlife, and for the most-part; I was right. I was limited to grey squirrels rummaging amongst the leaf litter on the lawn, a handful of magpies perched in the bare trees in the back garden, a great tit flitting about and a robin preaching from the holly bush at the front. Pleasant, yes, but nothing we haven't seen before.

On my last night in Gipsy Hill, I got up in the middle of the night to get a drink, and while standing at the kitchen sink, I looked out onto the street below. As most of you will not have been to Gipsy Hill before, in the daytime, the street is a bustle of Londoners, buses and cars. At this time however, it was brightly lit by the street-lamps, but silent and empty.

Empty that was, except for one night-time wanderer; an urban fox.

My experience of foxes is limited to the countryside. I have helped lamp foxes on a shooting estate in Norfolk, protecting ground-nesting birds in the area. I have never seen them in an urban environment, and the truth be told, I have never understood the fuss people make about their presence in towns and cities. I  am therefore of the view, that yes, in some parts of the countryside, foxes are vermin, and correspondingly, should be controlled.

I read an article in the London Evening Standard last week written by Simon Jenkins (http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/comment/tally-ho-hunt-down-the-capitals-vulpine-menace-7497989.html). He was bemoaning the presence of a vixen and cubs at the bottom of his garden, and ridiculing the suggestions made by the appropriate authority. As far as I could tell his complaints totalled the vixen begging for food at the window (in the bleakest of seasons), an unpleasant odour by the shed, and a small amount of disturbance to the flowerbed. All this at a time when he admitted, he was not present in the garden much at all. Is this really enough to warrant the destruction of a vixen and her cubs? Apparently so, according to Simon Jenkins.

The destruction of foxes in the countryside is for the benefit of ground nesting birds...lapwings, grey partridge, pheasants and grouse. In my view, this is completely justified and understandable. But in the cities? No, I can't comprehend that.

So when I saw the elegant animal trotting up the middle of the road, I cried out (in delight not horror). I clearly startled it as in response, it hunkered down and stared, scouring the house and garden for any signs of life, or danger. Finding none, it turned and slinked off down the gap between two houses, squeezing between the railings as it went. It was clearly in good health, with a deep coat and wonderfully bushy but lightly coloured tail. It may have been a dog fox assessing it's territory under the cover of darkness. I was disappointed to watch him go, remaining at the window for a long while afterwards, hoping he would return. Not this time though.

I was forced to reinforce my earlier views on the matter. These magnificent creatures are living among us, and for the most-part, we are all thriving. I doubt many of the residents of Gipsy Hill know of their night-time wanderer, but given the general prejudice against them, I suspect many would be unhappy to hear of it.

How much harm are they actually doing? Credible reports of attacks are few and far between, and are mainly on other nocturnal species. We are, after all, the ones who have invited the foxes to join us in our urban sprawls. As a nation we throw away tonnes of food waste and leave it on our streets for days on end. If you were a fox, would you bother to catch your own food if an urban street offered you hundreds of bags of rubbish with edible treats inside?

People are moaning about the problems they are causing in cities...well it's a bit late now! They have established here, and all because of us. Why not try to minimise the disturbance they cause, reduce the carrying capacity of the city, and maybe, the problem will begin to resolve itself. If Londoners really want the foxes gone, the destruction of individuals is certainly not the answer, as Simon Jenkins pointed out, another will just move into it's territory.

Is there not a role for someone to try and harmonise the coexistence of two of the UK's top predators? We, are ourselves, not unlike the foxes, who are only responding, like us, to the pressures of natural selection and survival. Find food to survive, find mates to propagate our own genes and maintain a territory in order to secure both of these things; our food/livelihood and our loved ones/ families.

Thanks,

Becky