The Greenish grass of home

The crowning glory of a killer day in the field yesterday from first light (the 25th), I was lucky enough to find this Greenish Warbler, plus a Barred Warbler, a Red-breasted Flycatcher and a Wryneck, in a maelstrom of migrants all within the same thirty metres or so of cover here at Filey. Magical.

Much more to follow, but it's an interesting bird showing arguably atypical characteristics, as well as calling atypically on at least some occasions; after much researching and trawling, however, it doesn't fit neatly into any subspecific bracket. So as it stands, it's an odd Greenish, which'll do just nicely; where it's from, who knows, but it's very welcome here.

 

 

 

Birdwatch magazine article

No time for an outdoor update presently - what with easterlies, rain and the sky slowly coming light - but instead a shameless plug for the first of two articles I recently wrote for Birdwatch magazine, published in the September 2012 edition. Click the link below to view. Part two follows in this month's issue, out on Thursday...

 Birding Brits Abroad article - Birdwatch, September 2012

East coast goodness

Find your own Yellow-brow (it's in there somewhere)......

22nd: A quick one, what with dawn approaching and opportunities to enjoy, but as of today, the drought is officially over. An entertaining few hours sea-watching from first light (Pom Skua, lots of ducks, Brents, a few Sootys and more besides) was followed by a two-hour window on terra firma, and at last, a promising break from the satanic south-westerlies.

A few minutes later and I got as far as the eastern end of the Top Scrub, where a mixture of shrubs and a strip of successional woodland herald the first cover for migrants after clearing the North Sea. Clear blue skies and light to moderate northerlies, while hardly the perfect storm, at least encouraged more scrutiny, and a sheltered sunny corner seemed like the perfect place to hang around for a while.

A few Goldcrests, Chiffys, Blackcaps, Coal Tits and Lesser Whitethroats later, and bingo, a Hippolais warbler darted into the undergrowth. Some minutes later, and better views revealed - here it comes - yet another Icterine Warbler. If I've a totem bird for 2012, it's an easy call.

With word of a Yellow-browed fresh-in a kilometre or so west at the Tip, phones bleeping and radios crackling (yep, it's an autumn weekend), I decided to dig in for a little while and see what happened. A few minutes later, and there in the crown of a sycamore (just a few metres above the Icterine's chosen bolt-hole), a Yellow-browed Warbler materialised. The sprite that never dulls, the harbinger of possibilities, and a little beauty at anytime, anyplace.

Bar-tailed Godwit on the Country Park

An east coast bird observatory in late September with impending easterly winds and rain forecast? There are worse places to wake up.

Pied Fly in the canopy of Church Ravine

Filey, 15th - 20th September 2012

It's tempting to call this bulletin the calm before the storm, but fate may be equally tempted, and after such a taxing September so far, that surely wouldn't do. But, after what seems like about four years of perpetual south-westerlies, tomorrow signals the beginning of a change, due to last several days (even theoretically, tantalisingly, involving easterlies and rain by Sunday). Parallels with a five-year old on Christmas Eve abound.

Kingfisher on the Brigg

Anyway, the last few days have been, well, not as bad as they could've been. Motivation doesn't come quite as easily when the aforementioned cursed SW's continue relentlessly, but at least at a place like this, there are choices. Hence, a seawatch on the early morning of the 17th promised little under clear blue skies, but provided two stunning Long-tailed Skuas, which ambled north together just a few minutes after I'd set up the scope.

Fresh-in Wheatears by the seawatching hide

The best spot for seawatching is at the base of the Brigg, either in the hide when the conditions dictate, or on the seat outside when possible. This spot provides a panoramic view not only of the sea but also of the Brigg itself, an aestheically magical, multi-layered rocky plateau which snakes out into the ocean, providing a perfect place to feed and rest for all manner of birds and beasts.

On top of the expected gulls, terns, waders and seals, the same seawatch also involved a cast on the rocks just a few metres away which included several Rock Pipits, Wheatears, and most entertainingly, a Kingfisher, alternately perched on boulders or hovering and diving into rock pools. Beautiful.

  
Pink-footed Geese heading south just after dawn

While hirundines, Meadow Pipits, Skylarks, Siskins and other species have streamed overhead to varying degrees, migrant passerines have remained all but absent from the land, at least until the 19th, when Goldcrests numbered over twenty in the Top Scrub alone, with a single bird fresh in almost on the tip of Carr Naze; other signs of non-resident life included yet more Coal Tits (pretty much everywhere) and a small sprinkling of Sylvia warblers. Hardly impressive but a start at least.

The prettiest of Glaucous Gulls

Another essentially unpromising seawatch, this time from dawn on the 19th, provided a surprising and particularly crappy-looking third-winter type Glaucous Gull, a nice bonus on another sunny morning. The Dams, meanwhile, remains stubbornly quiet on the wader front, although wildfowl numbers and species are steadily increasing there.

So, hardly an unforgettable autumnal week here on the coast, but a few entertaining bits and pieces at least; and now, at last, it's all about the weather charts.

An early Glaucous Gull

A three hour seawatch under clear blue skies first thing this morning was far from dull (especially given the continuing south-westerlies), the highlight being this third-winter type Glaucous Gull, in off the sea, onto the end of Carr Naze, and soon off to the north.

 An unexpected bonus, even if it did look as if it'd just been through about six hours on spin dry.

 

Filey, 7th - 14th September 2012

Pick up a Pec; win

Well, it had to get better, and it did. Returns this week have been much improved, which is hardlt saying much but is especially pleasing considering the unfavourable south-westerly airflow has remained stubbornly in place.

Turtle Dove, Dams

An early seawatch and a wander around the land on the 7th was unremarkable but for three fresh-in Wheatears on the Brigg end (see last post), but the hot, sunny and often blustery conditions encouraged some aerial movements on the 8th, with a couple of Common Buzzards, a Hobby chasing hirundines over the golf course and a Marsh Harrier lolloping in off the sea.

Several hours seawatching from first light on the 9th produced a varied selection of waders and wildfowl, the highlights being the first flock of Pink-footed Geese heading south, plenty of Bar-tailed Godwits, and another very accommodating Balearic Shearwater; over 4000 Gannets were on the move, most presumably from somewhat further north. With time to kill in the hot afternoon sun, I kicked back on the clifftop overlooking the bay and enjoyed multiple skeins of Pink-feet following the coast southwards, clocking 216 for the day.
 

 

Turnstone, Redshank & Dunlin on the Brigg

Back down for an early shift in the sea-watching hide on the 10th, with a roll call including 720 Teal, a good cast of other ducks, three Sootys and 30 Red-throated Divers during an entertaining five-hour shift.

 
The Dams - our local small but perfectly-formed wetland on the edge of town - has been notably quiet, with just a sprinkling of the commoner waders enjoying the fairly expansive but underpopulated mud since the water level was lowered a couple of months ago. But it's the kind of place that you write off at your peril, and that has an especially rapid turnover of birds during productive periods.

Purps on the Brigg

Hence, there are many worse ways to kill time than shack up in one of the hides, kick back and wait. Recent sessions have been unproductive, but something had to give sooner or later. Firstly, a couple of hours there on the morning of the 11th was rewarded with the increasingly rare, now barely annual sight of a Turtle Dove - the first (and likely last) of the year here, pottering around on the mud with Woodpigeons for a while before being spooked shortly before I had to leave late morning.

 

And then secondly, a sudden sprinkling of waders later in the day instantly produced a long-awaited rarer congener - a Pectoral Sandpiper, on the very same patch of mud, in the company a handful of Dunlins. The chances of my connecting were slim, but so be it; maybe if it was good enough to stick around, I'd be able to catch up with it at some point. Thankfully, that some point was the following evening, at dusk.

You Wheatears and then three come along at once

.... which is arguably the worst pun to darken this journal thus far, but is also somehow irrestible, so there it is. Three always beautiful, always spirit-lifting Wheatears appeared out of nowhere onto the rocks of the Brigg during a seawatch the other day, constituting just about the only passerine migrants to grace the area of late.

Hardly a rare occurence, but a reminder that there are pocket-sized, long-distance migrants out there, making their way to Africa as we speak, even though they may not be stopping off and tipping their hats to us here in Filey quite as often as we'd like at the second.

Not that all is lost, by any standards; multitudes of other migrants are gushing through, especially at sea; more of them soon. Still, a wind with any kind of eastern component would be more welcome than ever; any time in the next couple of weeks will be just fine.

 

 

Filey, 1st - 6th September 2012

For all the mouth-watering promise conjoured up by the words 'early September' and 'east coast bird observatory', sometimes relentless south-westerlies and clear skies conspire to drain the blood from even the most enthusiastic and least jaded of foot soldiers. And so it's been for pretty much all of the last week - happy days for the last of the beach-dwelling tourists, slim pickings for the weirdo in the bushes.

spot the Sooty

Newly-arrived passerines have been all but absent, although a few Goldcrests have joined the small numbers of phylloscs in the hedgerows and top scrub. An evening sea-watching on the 5th was, considering the conditions (as above), enjoyable - the pick of being an pale-morph adult Pomarine Skua and six Sooty Shearwaters ambling north in the golden evening light.

A check on the Dams this morning (6th) was 100% wader-free, which is extraordinary at this time of year; still, a Pintail in front of the (otherwise-deserted) East Pool hide was a modest pleasure, and a new one for the year. Onwards and upwards, it's still early days.

Filey, 24th - 31st August 2012

Now that's (even) more like it. All too often, August can be full of promise, scant in delivery; but while the first three weeks of the month in Filey had its moments, the final week beautifully reinforced why there's nowhere quite like the East coast when autumn kicks in.

Those first three weeks were reasonably entertaining; no outstanding falls or killer rarities, but a steadily broadening spectrum of migrants as the month wore on, from seabirds and wildfowl to waders and passerines. However, as the last seven days approached, possibilities increased, and conditions looked promising for classic early autumn arrivals.

Knot

The 24th began mild and calm, but a strengthening easterly wind coincided with a front of thick cloud and rain moving in the south around 0830, producing a wonderful spectacle on Carr Naze. Multitudes of hirundines and Swifts materialised from nowhere, at all heights - some an ankle height, some distant specs in the ether, and everywhere inbetween - and proceeded to flood past in plague-like proportions for a good 45 minutes, as the drizzle came and went in gentle waves. Fantastic.

 Sandwich Tern

Otherwise, a sprinkling of common migrants (including fresh-in Pied Fly and Goldcrest) promised more from the light easterlies and mist, but the 25th produced little else, despite methodical floggings of the northern area throughout. It looked as if the encouraging conditions had failed to produce anything special; but the 26th was another day.

The forecasted blustery north-north-westerly happily came to pass, and the seawatch hide duly beckoned - there for around 0600, the heavy swell and crashing white horses made us work for our rewards, which were all the sweeter for it. The highlights were undoubtedly the two adult Sabine's Gulls which gunned south, about an hour apart, although a Balearic Shearwater and 43 Arctic Skuas (and plenty of other action) provided fine back-up.

Turnstone

Pleasantly flushed with success and with an hour or so to kill before prior engagements brought the curtain down, Dan and I hiked back up Carr Naze and wandered into the Top Scrub late morning, more from force of habit than anything else. With the wind bending the trees and the sun beating down, expectations were accordingly low and the apparent lack of activity was no surprise.

Which was far from the case when, seconds after rambling out flawed theories as to why the area we were stood in seemed peculiarly attractive to Icterine Warblers (Frank's in May, mine a couple of weeks back), what should choose to show itself beautifully on a sheltered, sunlit branch in front of us than a pristine Icterine Warbler. What a morning.

The 27th looked less promising, but the possibility of northbound stragglers after yesterday's movements was too much to resist; hence, back in the hut early doors. A generally quiet three hours were illuminated by two Long-tailed Skuas heading south at 0820, suitable compensation for several almost-definite-but-not-quite sightings the previous day.

Icterine Warbler

An early seawatch on the 29th had plenty of variety, with highlights including a Red-necked Grebe, two Little Gulls and a Med Gull, but the 30th was, to put it simply, an absolute joy. Following a calm and clear previous few hours, the strong northerlies hit exactly when forecast - along with driving, horizontal rain - mid-morning; after fulfilling a prior engagement in Scarborough, it was on with the waterproofs and a speed-walk along the deserted beach.

Into the hide for 1045, and John had already logged plenty of skuas and shearwaters coming south thick and (very) fast; with a wall of impenetrable dark cloud and rain providing a perfect curtain against which to watch them, the birds were either overwhelmingly close inshore or completely hidden in the gloom.

The next five hours were an almost constant pleasure, with an exceptional hour or so around midday, both during and immediately after the heaviest of the rain (and the strongest of the winds). Skuas and Shearwaters stole the show, with numbers - and views - the like of which I haven't seen for many years. I could wax lyrical about it endlessly here, but, as with all killer seawatches, you just have to be there.....

..... of Skuas, our day total of 207 Arctics was the best for some years, along with thirty-odd Bonxies, five Poms and no less than four Long-tails; of shearwaters, over 200 Manxies for the day, six Sooties, and the best views of a Balearic I'll probably ever have without making physical contact. Surprisingly, neighbouring sites (including Flamborough) had but a fraction of our quantity and quality, suggesting the conditions conspired perfectly for us and, for one day at least, nowhere else held a candle to the Brigg. Magical.

An early seawatch on the 31st was almost comically poor in comparison, but only served to reinforce how special the previous day was. A fine week ending a better-than-expected month; and now for September.....