The Ninth Dunlin

Yesterday I resolved to amuse myself.


This involved getting down to the Nose first thing, where a lovely Willow Warbler was very obliging in the Top Dell. Migrants were not as thick as the onset mistyfog had promised, though, with any dreams I had of falls rapidly evaporating. There were still warblers around; territorial Robins kicking a bunch of Chiffs, Blackcaps, and Whitethroats about the South Side, for example. Overhead, a few hirundines went by. North. [Of course]


Spectacle was provided by the sea, where the 420-odd Kitts were still loitering about on the Ore Stone. There were also rafts further south towards the Bay; these too also Kitts, as revealed when a Bonxie came through them with an effect similar to playing skittles with a bowling ball...

The air just became thick with birds, it was akin to being at Bowling Green, or Steart maybe - with the more open environment. The noise was something else, even from a klick away... It took me several moments to stop gawking and take the chance to start counting. With the mass of them, a proper count was never going to happen, so I counted in tens and rounded down to the nearest 50, getting 850 Kittiwakes.

Wow.


Onward - having waited until after the school drag run - to The Backwater! I was lured by the prospect of many Curlew Sands, over and above how good it is to bird there. Naturally, they were feeling elusive, but there was plenty else to look at [3 Green Sand, 6 Common Sand, 5 Greenshank, and a juv Reeve being the best of them] and the time wandered by merrily. The Marsh Harrier wasn't bad, either. ;)

A flock of 8 Dunlin included a couple of bright little juveniles - small of stature and bill, I'd guess male schinzii - and also a hulking great long-billed adult, a female alpina? Seeing the two in incongruous settings was a salutary reminder of how variable this most ubiquitous of waders is, and how tricksy they can be [especially when you can't see the fore underparts clearly].
They moved about a bit, sometimes splitting up, sometimes together, but no matter how many times they were checked, they were 8 Dunlin, with no Curlew Sands or Little Stints [don't ask] with them.


The ninth Dunlin up there in the title? It flew out past the Tower Hide not long before I left. From whence it came? No idea.



With the sun finally having burnt through the mistyfog here too, I decided to get ahead of the traffic. Clearing NP, I figured that, seeing as it was right on the way, a small stopoff at Aylesbeare wouldn't hurt.. ;)

Well, this seemed to be where all the migrants were hiding! Finding a Whinchat, a Wheatear, a female Redstart [oh, also 2 Stonechats and a Dartford] in one bush was.. amusing to say the least! It was ridiculous as one bird after another popped out to look at me! The next bush over was quieter, merely holding a Chiffchaff and a Willow Warbler..

I backed off and left them to it, setting up the Big Scope for a little scanning of the valley. You never know, maybe a nice drift migrant might appear? No chance. But hey, it's always nice to watch Swallows mobbing a poor innocent [ish] Kestrel.


Back then to The Patch in reasonable time for the evening's festivities, whose after-effects have resulted in today's sad lack of anything productive birding-wise..



And no, I didn't go up again, despite naughty re-appearing Curlew Sands. I'm not chasing a yearlist.






Blimmin' Crakes...
[It'd only be a yeartick.. ::Mutter mutter::]