Another Bird Blog: Cattle Egret

Showing posts with label Cattle Egret. Show all posts

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Home Birding

An extract from an email all ringers received this week.

“BTO SURVEYS IN THE WIDER COUNTRYSIDE”.

“Following the Government statement on 23 March, our Senior Leadership Team has reviewed the BTO advice and is asking all volunteers to follow the guidelines presented by the Prime Minister. While the monitoring work undertaken by volunteers is extremely important, it must not compromise public health.

To avoid this potential risk, we are requesting that all BTO surveyors, including ringers and nest recorders, refrain from undertaking survey work at sites to which they would need to travel by any means until this guidance is reviewed.”

“All the best and stay safe”.

Dave Leech, Head of Ringing & Nest Recording
James Pearce-Higgins, Director of Science”

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Here's my contribution to "Home Birding", the newest buzz phrase for locked down birders with a post first published on Another Bird Blog on 31/12/2011 - New Year’s Eve 2011. Click the pictures for a close-up.

It’s time for recalling the past year’s highlights of birding, ringing and photography. Now is the moment when we choose to forget the low points, the empty pages in a sodden notebook, netting a handful of birds on a seemingly perfect spring morning, or discovering that you set the aperture wrong.

Here we go in rough chronological order with a selection of photos and personal highlights of 2011.

In the early part of the year we holidayed in Egypt at a time when the country was undergoing a revolution, but the confiding birds hadn’t joined in the turmoil and just behaved naturally for a visiting Brit.

Egypt proved to be a wonderful place for bird photography and so difficult to select just a few pictures, apart from the Kingfisher which is just about my favourite photo of the year, taken with a decent choice of aperture for once.

Kingfisher - Egypt

Cattle Egret - Egypt

I’d left Will counting Siskins building up by the hundreds in his garden, together with a dozen or two Brambling and Lesser Redpoll. Within days of returning from Egypt I joined him for some memorable ringing sessions and notable breakfasts.

Brambling

Lesser Redpoll

Siskin

Bacon Butty

Spring and autumn were great for catching and photographing Northern Wheatears at Pilling. With the help of sacrificial meal worms I caught fourteen “Wheats” and clicked the shutter button a couple of hundred times on the beautiful chat, passing Meadow Pipits or the occasional Linnet.

Wheatear

Meadow Pipit

Linnet

The annual ritual came along, May in Menorca, the island where birds are hard to find but fortunately more numerous than birders. This year a ringed Audouin’s Gull at the hotel pool gave me an excuse to search for that extreme rarity, a Menorcan ringer.

A Ringed Audouin’s Gull -

A Ringed Audouin's Gull

Summer was warm and wonderful, ringing Swallow chicks, finding Skylark nests and stumbling upon young Lapwings or breeding Redshank.

Skylark

Barn Swallow

Redshank

Lapwing

Then at the end of summer came a chance to take photographs of a species rapidly becoming a rarity, the unfortunately named “Common” Cuckoo.

Cuckoo

Autumn and early winter was given over to ringing pipits, buntings, finches and thrushes “on the moss”, the satisfaction of working a regular patch with a job well done.

Reed Bunting

Tree Pipit

Yellowhammer

Don't forget to Spring forward tonight by changing all those clocks. Or not.

Back soon with Another Bird Blog. Linking this post to Anni's Birding in Texas.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Another January

We’re into the third week of storms with no prospect of birding or ringing for several days. Storm Ella is lined up to be next.

Almost every day has been so awful that I have struggled to get out birding or ringing, even for the occasional “window of opportunity”. Everyone is pretty fed up, not least those people whose homes have been flooded. Fortunately here in coastal Lancashire, apart from fencing panels, we have escaped any serious damage, but there’s more to come from the current cycle with its misplaced and overactive jet stream.

UK 2020 - Getty Images

Meanwhile the Government is happy to blame so called “climate change” for the damage and destruction while muddying the waters, diverting attention from building on flood plains; or forgetting to mention the Environment Agency’s failure to properly maintain dykes, ditches and rivers because of the European Water Framework Directive 2000. Roll on 2021 when Britain becomes again an independent nation, free from the dictats of unelected bureaucrats in Brussels, and when our politicians will be paid for making decisions of their own.

For those of an enquiring mind willing to read other than mainstream media I recommend:

https://www.breitbart.com/europe/2020/02/18/boris-tories-floods-arent-our-responsibility-blame-climate-change/

https://notalotofpeopleknowthat.wordpress.com/2020/02/16/the-link-between-climate-change-and-britains-winter-storms-clue-there-is-not-one/

That’s the whinge over for now. Meanwhile a few pictures from January 2011 and a holiday in sunny Egypt where we saw a somewhat limited range of species within the confines of the resort of Makadi Bay, Hurghada. A couple of miles of beach plus 15 or so lush hotel grounds provided ample time and opportunity for birding while soaking up the winter sun.

Makadi Bay, Egypt

Red-throated Pipit

Bluethroat

Kingfisher

Kestrel

Laughing Dove

Makadi Bay

Sleepy Camel

Striated Heron

Osprey

Cattle Egret

Makadi Bay, Egypt

Hooded Crow

Bluethroat

Kingfisher

Greater Sand Plover

Greenshank

Cattle Egret

We had a great time with two weeks of unbroken sunshine in the eighties when back home there would be rain, wind and whatever else the British weather might throw at us.

I know someone who went to Hurghada just two years ago. Following terrorist atrocities in Egypt the rules are now more controlling whereby tourists are unable to leave the confines of their hotel grounds, barred even from walking into neighbouring hotel surroundings because of security concerns - such a shame.

It's raining now. Back soon - sometime, never?

Linking today to Anni's Birding and Eileen's Saturday Blogspot.

Monday, January 13, 2020

A Menorca Love Story

I may not get out this week. Storm Brendan is on the way from Canada. I think it's payback time because we sent them Harry and Sparkle.

My gout has returned with a resolve to keep me indoors this week. For now here is a tale of Menorca with lots of pictures. Click the pics for a panorama.

Once the kids finished living the good life and made their way into the big wide world, Sue and I took a few holidays. It’s fair to say we got around a bit; Caribbean, Malaysia, Mexico, The Golden Triangle, Thailand, Goa, Sri Lanka, et al. I also spent a couple of spring times undertaking voluntary ringing work at Long Point, Canada, helping locals get to grips with handling wild birds.

Eventually the long hauls became tiring and wasteful for us both. Two days travelling at either end of each holiday was no longer a thrill to tick just another spot on the globe. We looked around for somewhere to spend a couple of weeks in Spring or Autumn - a decent sort of place without Brits in Union Jack shirts or bars that promised “Full English” and 50 inch sport until 2am; somewhere we might relax, explore and discover. We found Menorca, a two hour flight away and where a 15 year love affair began.

The Menorcan landscape is like the Yorkshire Dales on steroids, but with wall-to-wall sunshine and clear blue skies 24/7. The smooth as glass and super fast roads are no-expense-spared, courtesy of the EU’s mammoth unverified budget and thanks to a hefty contribution from long-suffering British Taxpayers. In spring wildflowers dominate the landscape in countless shades and voluminous hues.

Menorca

There is one main road in Menorca that links the capital Mahon in the east to the earlier capital but now second city of Ciutadella in the extreme west. Think of the island roads like the bones of a Dover Sole with the backbone down the centre and minor bones heading off north and south.

The minor bones lead to the seasonal and coastal holiday resorts May to October because Menorca shuts up shop to sun seekers from November to April. A Menorcan winter in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea can be wet and windy, rather like a March day in in Blackpool or Brighton.

https://www.map-of-spain.co.uk/large-map-of-menorca.htm

We mostly based in the well-mannered south coast holiday resort of Sant Tomas where the sun shone hot and long, and from where we spent most days, or mornings at least until the afternoon sun beckoned. From here we explored the countryside and visited real Menorcan towns like Alaior, Es Migjorn, Es Mercadal or the fishing village of Fornells rather than sunshine resorts. Not for us the few plebby, honky-tonk resorts in the south west of the island that in part mimic the worst of both Ibiza and Majorca, Menorca’s sister Balearic islands. If we wanted that we could stay home and hit the M55 to Blackpool or Lytham St Annes.

Es Migjorn

Fornells

Es Migjorn

Alaior

Es Mercadal

Often we’d drive into the second city, Ciutadella, a fine old city with an authentic vibe, a charming port, and an old quarter with good examples of Baroque and Gothic architecture. Ciutadella used to be the capital of culture and commerce in Menorca. It has supposedly been superseded by the official capital Mahon but any Menorca aficionado will tell you that Ciutadella or “Vella I Bella”, the Old and Beautiful, is the finer of the two.

Ciutadella

The Gothic cathedral of Ciutadella in Placa de la Catedral dates back to the 13th century. Although it’s impossible not to take photographs of its domineering presence, as an odd couple of lapsed Catholic and agnostic we never felt the need to enter, but rather to simply marvel at the awe-inspiring dimensions.

Placa de la Catedral

Ciutadella

The port of Ciutadella is both a fishing and leisure port with an abundance of waterside restaurants which line the quay. Early risers get to watch the fisherman bring in the local catch of the day. From here there’s a ferry over to Alcudia in Mallorca (Majorca), if you really have to. The Placa d’es Born is one of the most picturesque squares in Ciutadella, on what used to be a former Arab marching ground; an obelisk now stands to commemorate the Turkish invasion of 1558.

Placa d’es Born

In the old streets there’s a fish market and a row of butcher’s shops that sell free range chicken, pork and beef that once upon a time you could buy in any British town until out-of-town supermarkets destroyed them. And then there’s the serrano, air dried ham - choose your leg and gnaw away.

Serrano

We knew from previous visits that another day to Mahon (Mao) might coincide with a Med Cruise stop when spotless cruisers, released from captivity for the day, swarm along the lovely old streets looking for tat which local shops provide in abundance. After a couple of visits we gave it a miss just in case.

Mahon

In Menorca it’s impossible to buy a bad cup of cappuccino and where Costa Coffee is but a bad dream. We learned Spanish, or at least how to ask for “dos café con leche, por favour”. Y un ensaimada, Gracias”. We never did get the hang of Menorquí apart from “Bon Dia.”

Ensaimada, Coffee, Bocadilla

The two official languages of Menorca are Catalan and Spanish. Natives to the island speak the variety of Catalan called Menorquí, and they typically speak Spanish fluently as a second language. A 2014 survey carried out by the Government of the Balearic Islands found that 53.5% of participants identified themselves as Catalan speakers, 36.7% as Spanish speakers, and 7.7% as bilingual speakers. Quite where the islanders stand on the question of Catalan independence and that the EU insist Catalans are Europeans we don’t know. Suffice to say that in fifteen years we never discussed politics with a native, only with other British holidaymakers, more so since June 2016.

Many Menorquins still practice traditional farming. Spring flowers and Mediterranean birds thrive, but even here this historic farming technique is on the decline in favour of agri-monoculture, the policy that has destroyed so much of Britain’s diversity of flora and fauna during the last forty years. Our fifteen years in Menorca saw perceptible declines in some species of flowers and native birds, although being on a migration path to and from Europe and Africa, the island still provides a stop-off point for birds on that journey in spring and autumn.

Menorca in May

In 2014 I spent a morning with Javier helping with his local version of Constant Effort Ringing. In following years we always bumped into Javier on our travels as he led springtime birding and walking tours around the island

Sardinian Warbler

Mediterranean Flycatcher

Javier

In spring the valles (valleys) and roadsides throb with the sounds of warblers, Bee Eaters, Hoopoes and Nightingales, so much so that I swear the Nightingale is the most common bird of the island. Trying to see this highly secretive bird, day or night is another matter. Fortunately there are other special birds to enjoy, and even the resident Hermann's Tortoise to admire, very often at the risky roadside where cars and oblivious occupants speed by. Sue became my dependable spotter and camera minder when the promise of a later glass of rioja worked like magic.

Woodchat Shrike

Black-winged Stilt

Audouin's Gull

Cattle Egret

Egyptian Vulture

Purple Heron

Stonechat

Bee Eater

Mediterranean Flycatcher

Corn Bunting

Turtle Dove

Heerman's Tortoise

Tawny Pipit

Red-footed Falcon

Scops' Owl

Hoopoes - A Menorca Love Story

Menorca was quiet enough for us. From 2005 and all through the global financial downturn we found the peace and quiet we desired on an island we could discover with little help from brochures and tourist guides. A simple map and a hire car was all we required. We made friends of locals and tourists alike. Hotel and shop staff greeted us like long lost pals and we to them.

Menorca

And then in 2017 came changes. The self-governing Balearics decided that tourism should increase and that the tourists themselves should contribute to the cost of the necessary infrastructure. In came a tourist tax that added another Euro 90 to our not inconsiderable bill for two weeks at a four star. In addition, every year the price of our room increased by 10%.

In came “improvements” and extensions to the once small and user-friendly airport. In 2018 and 2019, we lined up outside the terminal like naughty schoolchildren then spent two hours and three hours at passport control where two Policia youths scrutinised our pale British faces for signs of terrorism. Once cleared of extremist preferences, the queues for hire cars snaked through the hall but luckily we had a local contact who met us outside away from the madding crowds to lead us to a waiting Panda.

Our self-discovered noiseless spots became loud and overrun with boisterous, shouty people. And then came the bikes, hordes of them riding in impassable convoy along once quiet byways and tracks, yelling so that all could hear their inanities; throwing their water bottles onto the verge or stuffing them into ancient stone walls along once deserted roads.