Things To Do

With a little birding stuck around the edges.

No burning straight off up to Wales for me yesterday, as I had to Get Stuff Done in Exeter. Managed to do some birding around said Stuff, though, so not too bad. Before hopping on the P&R bus I wandered over to Matford along the new-ish route, dodging luridly clad cyclists as I did - that after playing Frogger with the rush hour traffic [Matford Pools are fun to get to - unless you come down from the canal bridge you have to play the game...]. A Brambling with a band of assorted finchy things was very nice, though it got thoroughly flushed by a pesky cyclist before I could get the li'l scope on it :( The Pools had what you'd expect, nothing fancy. A couple of Common Gulls with the larid hoi-polloi were just that [Matford always makes me think of Ring-billed Gulls, for some reason]. As I got back to the Brambling spot [by the wonderfully unobtrusive makro], I saw that of the mass of Bull Green Gold and Chaffinches, plus Linnets, only a few Bull and Greenfinches were there. Or they were other ones, I suppose. Whichever, they showed nicely - male Bullfinches are always a treat.

On my way home in the afternoon I stopped off for a loop of Exminster, where the 2 White-fronts were smart in the odd burst of sunshine. There were no less than 18 Greylag nearby, which is a lot for Exminster. Lapwing numbered at least 93 and they, the Wigeon [hundreds], Teal, Blackwits, Curlew, and the odd Ruff were up in dribs and drabs very frequently. I don't know what was making them so uneasy - a lurking fox, maybe? - I saw nothing in the air or sitting on any pylons [not even anything I won't mention]. Lots and lots of people about, a good proportion with bins, though only 2 with scopes [I suppose most of the serious birders who could get out were preoccupied with Business Elsewhere..] [[Though, saying that, I did bump into [Devon Birder] in Exeter, but he's seen Yellowthroat...]]

Today I had work. Again. Ah, the dedication of a man who's on a short-term contract....

This afternoon I nipped out after the front had passed to see what was cowering in the lee of Blackball. 4 GC Grebes. Wow. 3 Fulmar cruised by, which was better, and as I followed them I came across a small group of gulls sat on the sea. Ooh, that one's dark. Quite big, too, compared to the Herrings. Not dark enough for an LBB, though.. Oh-ho. You will not believe me, but it is only as I sit here now and type this that I recall there being an adult Caspo knocking around. Seriously, I only thought 'That's got to be a Yellow-leg!'. Now it's got to be an Unidentified. Bloody Caspian Gulls.... [[Never thought you'd read me saying that, did you?]]

Doing The Right Thing

As the saying goes; "No good deed goes unpunished"* More on this to come.

It was time to get out and about on Sunday, and once more the winter Moor beckoned. Get it in while you can, for soon the hordes** will again descend, was my thinking. Har bloody har - forgot it was half term already. Too bladdy late. Oh well.

[[* This being reality.]]

[[** Ten Tors, D of E, and the unwashed masses. Am I merely an antisocial git, or do I at least have a point about all the litter?]]

I'd stuck to the main roads for fear of ice - steep twisty narrow wet lanes with granite edges do not mix well with sub-zero temperatures, after all - but it was warmer up there than at home. Not counting wind chill. The ground was frozen pretty hard in the morning, though by afternoon that had mostly thawed, and though the wind was brisk and toothy, that too eventually eased, though not 'til well past 4..

Oh yeah, the 'where' might help. :) I parked near Black Tor [the one between Princetown and Burrator] and dropped into the Meavy valley to pick up the Devonport Leat. I'm pretty sure I've gone through it before, [somewhere in Year One, I think] so I won't burble on too much; suffice to say its a nice walk at any time of year when the wind isn't too strong. On a day of good visibility and light wind the views are quite something. However, if the wind is in the southern half of the compass and there's rain, its pretty unforgiving.

My route was a simple loop on a string - along the Leat to Nun's Cross [where the Leat ducks under the ridge - this as well as crossing the Meavy via aqueduct; some engineering] then hanging a right to Hingston Hill, left to Combeshead Tor, then over to Eylesbarrow Mine via the Potato Cave, before following my favourite track back to Nun's Cross, then the Leat back to Black Tor. Simples.

Certainly simple navigation; nice paths to follow and not even a stream to ford or jump - all bridges. Ah, luxury! The weather had looked a bit iffy en route, with dark clouds looming and a stream of white mist flowing past North Hessary Tor which seemed ominous, but in fact it proved fine. It even got sunny. :D Later on it threatened more and got dark quite early, but aside from a little drizzle as I drove home it stayed dry. Which was nice of it, I have to say.

I'd figured open winter moorland with not-too-close trees and a few decent girts meant I'd be looking at about 6 species of birds, so my main focus was Hingston, home of one of the finest rows and circles on the Moor. If you ever feel like visiting, do it properly and come from the north - Nun's Cross. There's a path which takes you right to it. First you'll see a big cairn on your left and the remains of a pound on your right, then as you pass between them you meet the terminus of the row. Mostly still standing, it leads in a marked and undoubtedly deliberate dogleg up to the stone circle, just shy of the summit of the hill. Many small circles on the Moor are cairn-circles - pretty much there to contain and bound a burial mound - but this is clearly more than that. This is a circle with a cairn, more properly maybe, a circle around a cairn. Even if the works of the ancestors aren't your thing, its worth a look if you're passing.

Alas, I didn't get to enjoy it alone, so I didn't linger but instead found a lunch spot out of the wind. Sitting at Combeshead, it was only then that I truly realised how busy the Moor was; people everywhere! Ye Gods and Little Fishes, you'd think it was August... Oh, well. Explained the bods before, at least. I pressed on, a little more quickly than I would have done if it was quieter - not much likely to be about, after all. Maybe if I got back sharp enough I could detour to Bucky and have a look for all those Mandarin that kept getting reported?

As I followed the Leat, though, I saw something else. Two brown metal boxes - ammunition boxes. Sat on the path beside the Leat, near a clapper bridge. Odd, they weren't there earlier. Hmm, 7.62mm machine gun ammunition, blank, they said on the sides - not the usual 5.56mm rifle stuff. I naturally opened one up and was very surprised to see that yes indeed that was what was in them.

Shit.

Just left there, for any teenage idiot to find and play with. Or lucky individual with Other Intent. Blanks may not have bullets, but they've got everything else and can be converted. Not good. Clearly left on purpose, but what if I'm not the only one to find it first? What will you do? I thought about hiding it more effectively - ie in the Leat under the bridge - but then civic duty got in the way so out came the phone. I have the Commandant's number for such situations on my phone - I found a live smoke grenade a few years back*** and they were very grateful - or I did, as it is now disconnected... Ok, Police it is.

So, one good deed and 90 minutes of sitting in the wind watching the clouds gather later, a copper in a landie arrives and removes the offending items. He's quite happy to get out of the station, I'm quite happy to get home. Hopefully, the rounds have found their way home by now, though in Okie barracks, some poor member of Her Majesty's Finest is probably still peeling spuds, ears still ringing with "Out of the public's sight does not mean on a path!'...

Birds almost seem like an afterthought compared to all the drama. 12 species, including Red Grouse - flushed by a cyclist - and a flyover Snipe late on, plus a Grey Heron while I was waiting, so not bad at all. Indeed, before I found those brown boxes, this would have been a very different post. Funny how things happen.

[[*** Up on the Okie artillery range, a live smoke grenade, clearly dropped and forgotten. I called it in [I'd noticed the number on the range boards and saved it just in case] and it was duly collected. Very exciting, I know. ;) ]]

On Patch

Two days of birding on the Patch to report, though no mostly-white-winged gulls up this end of the Bay...

Yesterday it was slim pickings, with another near-miss of the Firecrest probably the best of it. At least 8 Purple Sandpipers at the Real Living Coast were nice, though the mournful cries of the poor captive Choughs and Fairy Terns took a bit of the gloss off.

Today, less wind and more sun meant more birds. Seabirds made the headlines, with only a singing male Blackcap really standing out on land. Offshore, a silver-calm sea [more or less] gave me my first Great Northern Diver of the year - a moulting adult near Thatcher Rock. Before that, an examination of the gulls tarting around the Nose gave a smart adult LBB [interestingly dark, but not that dark and too bulky to be worth fetching a scope for] but no white-wingers. At least 110 Guillemots were hanging around the Ore Stone ledges, with a few Razorbills inshore.

Getting to Haldon Pier, 6 Purple Sands were at the inland end. No sign of any on the boulders, possibly due to the young whippersnappers hanging around by and on the oil store [an impressive climb up its curving outer wall] and clambering on the rocks [a more impressive climb back up from there!]. They weren't doing any harm [assuming none of them fell off..] and I wandered on to the end to scan the Bay. Again, the better conditions helped - a few GC Grebes plus 2 Black-necked and a Slavonian were very welcome. There was also a big-looking sea duck off Preston / Paignton. It took a while to get a good silhouette but eventually nailed as a [presumably female due to no white bits] Eider. Sweet.

Sweeter was to come. As I headed to interrogate the few cowering Herring Gulls on the pontoon in the Inner Harbour I picked up a movement on the water in the Outer Harbour, right in the corner by the Ramps. Holy Shit, a Little Grebe! An adult, actively diving in the quite clear water - you could see it doing it's frog-kicks for a second or two as it descended into the depths. Wow. :D As I was stood there cooing over it, the distinctive call of a Redshank flying along the coast came to my ears. As I've said before, Redshanks are [usually] noisy twitchy buggers of birds, but on my Patch they're a welcome rarity. I'm not chasing a Patch Yearlist again. I have a job. I want my shoes to last more than a year. I'm not chasing a Patch Yearlist.

Or any other kind of Yearlist.

I'm just keeping score for reference purposes. That's all.

I'm only on 63 anyway....

Belated News

After a birding-less Saturday, due to work and rain issues, Sunday saw me at least doing something. In the morning I had a wander about the Patch, with my first target being some hunch-following to the ridiculously-named Glen Sannox. This is in fact Babbacombe proper - ie Babba's actual Combe*but some Victorian decided otherwise and.... well. Anyway, now it is a little bit of gardens nestled above Babbacombe Beach. Its a nice little tucked-away spot, right next to the Theatre. Yes, that theatre. [It should be explained here that there are 3 theatres on my Patch. Yes, three. Get me.] You can meet some, er, interesting characters there [not least of which being myself.. ;) ], but when there aren't screaming horrors you have a shot at the odd decent bird. Like the Firecrest, which I narrowly missed getting another crippling view of. At least I know its still around, though now hanging with a band of Goldcrests and Blue Tits [plus one Great Tit] instead of being alone, at least that means its calling more.

Only 2 GC Grebes and a Razorbill on the sea, with nowt else of note.

Afternoon and only my third outing of the year with the Folks. We had a walk up on Haldon Ridge - the reason I'm being vague about where is coming up - and we did quite well for birds. A group of at least 5 Redpoll were nice, but outnumbered and outweighed by the Siskin and Crossbills. Both were present in numbers and both were feeling frisky; singing, display, the works :D Male Siskin showing off is something I always appreciate - even when they're being mimic-y gits - but I'm less used to Crossbills doing it, so this was a treat.

Plenty of other small birds around [plus Woodpigs] but of note was what looked very much like a cold weather movement going on. At a particular crossing point of the Ridge, wave after wave of Fieldfares, Starlings, and Mistle Thrushes [though no Redwing, for some reason??] were passing west at treetop height. I was able to stop and count for almost 5 minutes [admirable patience from a certain Little Black Dog] and almost 150 birds passed over; 9:4:2 of the above species. I didn't notice them going over anywhere else, but this place was the only pass [for want of a better term] we reached, so they may have been crossing elsewhere too. Fascinating, if not unexpected, with all the Weather they've been having up country.

[[*A note on names and terms... Combe, rhymes with zoom, pronounced the same as the welsh cym for the simple reason of being the same word from the same source. You'll find a lot of place names in the south west involving it, the majority being in southeast Devon, but to be found from Cornwall [where they like to spell it with oo or u] to Dorset and Somerset. It means 'dry valley', as in one without a river, though said valley may have a stream or even river in it. The implication is that the watercourse is there because there's a valley, as opposed to the valley being there because there's a watercourse. Its all geology - usually caused by a fault exploited by glacial [or periglacial, in the south west] activity. Usually a fairly small, narrow affair coming off higher ground.]]

Breaking News

JR In Shock Retirement

Birding news Services learned last week that in a shock development, Infamous Young Devon Birder JR has announced his retirement from the Filthy Twitching Scene. Though he has not been available for comment, Sources claim that he has not touched his bins for ages and not even a Black-throated Blue Warbler on Berry Head could get him twitching. Other Sources say this is merely due to him suffering a string of terrible dips and that said Warbler would have him moving faster than (Devon Birder) after a hot pie. Birding news Services has heard claims that this was in fact predicted by Nostradamus and is one of the Signs of the Apocalypse. Certainly the thought of the teen-lister - whose exploits ranged from Orkney to Scilly and was widely touted as the next Lee Evans / a future Obs Warden / A Lesson To Us All - giving up makes you wonder about all that Mayan shit. Whatever the truth and wherever it is, twitches won't be the same without him.

A Brief Apology

Sorry for the bus-like behaviour. Things kept getting in the way and work's been a pain and blah blah de blah blah blah...

Right then, on with the madness.... ;)

Burning Again!

Fair warning - I have burbles on the brain again. But not for this post...

Yesterday I took my 'Just one of the reasons why I prefer the night shift' weekday of sleep-free fun to the Exe.

Starting at a rather nippy Dawlish Warren, where there was more wind than forecast and rougher seas than I'd hoped. I scanned and scanned as my feet slowly froze to the concrete by the lifeguards' station, but only a couple of GC Grebes did I see. Hmm. Onward back down and around the Back Path, scattering Moorhens from the grass by the Visitors' Centre, before coming up into the wind again on the Dune Ridge and seeing with no little dismay how much more has been claimed by the hungry waves. Its really not good, folks. Go there, soon. I seriously doubt it'll last another winter.

The seawatching spot has not been entirely eroded yet, and I gave it another go, finding the Slavonian Grebe and a few more Great Crested, but no ducks of any kind. Damn, that wind was cold.. On to the hide, which was amazingly deserted. Funny, you'd think at a low neap tide on a freezing cold weekday there'd be someone there...? ;) Their loss, as the drake American Wigeon was showing very nicely in the sunshine, tarting about on Shutterton Creek at a nice scope range - you could even ID it with bins. Joy. Enjoying getting a decent look, all sat down without the wind and with coffee, I had a sharp lunch and kept my eye out for Goldeneye [well, you never know, right?] in between working through the assorted [and abundant] ducks and waders. Nothing caught the eye, but its all good practice and a reminder if one were needed as to the variety among birds that 'all look the same' :) On a non-bird front, the Common Seal that lives in the Exe was showing well; crashed out on the Bull!

The yank and a few companions then took off and flew upriver a way, dropping down by Cockwood Crossing. If anybody was there, or they'd have had a great view. My attention wandered elsewhere, then later I looked back and they were gone. Into the main group of Wigeon, I assumed, failing to refind the American. Turns out not so - off to Bowling Green! Ducks, what will you do with them, eh? I headed back for another go at the sea, this time I managed to find the female Surf Scoter - riding the big choppy waves pretty much opposite me! The sun having moved round more, it was a nice if intermittent view - dark duck on bright grey-green sea.

Right, time still to be used, so I went for the hat-trick. Red-breasted Goose, this time your multi-coloured ass is mine! Or so I hoped.

Passing Starcross I saw a flock of Brents in the hundreds on the golf course thing, and duly muttered but then as I passed Powderham Castle I got a surprise! Two waders flew low over the road from the estuary to the big boggy bit - Snipe? No wait, dark pointed tails! Jacks!!! Ho-ly shit.. I've never seen more than one at a time before. Only once two in a day. :D [I've mentioned my Theory about Jack Snipe - they're Quantum Waders, and only exist if you're not expecting them. Its like the cat in a box, but the other way around.*]

Walking up the levee from Powderham Bend, the wind was bracing, the Avocets pretty, and the Exe fringed with a wide band of ice. The gentle sound of Brent Geese carried down from Turf Bend, then above it as a flock best described as "Oh, that's a lot" picked up and plonked down again. The Brents were alternating between grazing [on the far side of the railway line, where you can't see them, of course] and loafing about on the river. No RBG, naturally. When they stayed put for more than 30 seconds I gave them a count and got about 1100, which is pretty good for here. Groups were coming and going almost constantly, mostly staying in the vicinity, but here came a good hundred or more from downriver. I scanned the flock again and there right in the middle, all pretty in the sunshine, was the Red-breasted Goose. Gotcha!

Soon enough, the RBG was up and back out of sight, so I went on to the pub. No, not like that unfortunately. Before I reached the Turf, I nailed the Water Pipit that was lurking with at least 15 other pipits in the soggy paddock of a field - it ducked behind a tussock, but not quickly enough! I plonked down on the wonderful platform and had a good look at the interesting banded riverscape - water, ice and mud. Plenty of waders on display, with R-B Mergansers displaying. A Robin came up to offer violence if it wasn't fed - I only had chocolate left, which it didn't seem too impressed by, I have to say, though I remained un-savaged.

Several amazingly confiding Redshank [the words 'confiding' and 'Redshank' just don't go together, I can't count how many times one of those twitchy noisy gits has vexed my attempts to see things...] came right up to the platform, picking about unconcerned by the people {for it wasn't just me sitting quietly} like they were plastic duckies or something [["Must be escapes!" ;) ]]. Persistence did pay off in the end, with a pair of Goldeneye far far away on the Clyst. Nice through the Big Scope anyway. :)

Birding can be a pain. Missing things due to looking the wrong way or whatever, getting cold and wet [or hot and dank], seeing sod all, etc. etc. Sometimes, though, things just start clicking and that's when its just soo much fun. This was such a time - like the title implies, I was on fire. That Water Pipit. "Hmm, this is where a Water Pipit has often lurked.. Oh, there it is!" A day to cherish in the memory - for all the others when the Goddess of Birding has just dumped a bucket of cold water [I hope] over me...

In a total contrast to my near solitary time at the Warren [though to be fair on [Dawlish Warren Birders] there was Proper Work being done, with GPS thingies and everything], I kept meeting birders and PWBs who wanted to chat, ask me what that is, or enquire what was about. Not that I'm complaining - I'm always secretly flattered that anyone assumes I know what the hell I'm talking about [Should I admit that?]. Plus, its amazing what you can learn from talking to people - did you know that the winter of '64 was particularly harsh in France? Or that an onshore wind is unhelpful when fishing for Flounder? I do now. Several more people now also know that when they get the bloke in the silly hat talking he just goes on and on and on and on.. You think my posts are bad? Try talking to me... ;D

Speaking of going on, I do have something to say, but now is not the time. I will say that today I was working, and then it was all rainy and dank and I just couldn't drag myself outside to even look for grebes... Scandalous. Lots of finches in the Garden, still.

[[*The premise being that you can know what something is or where it is, but not both**. So with Jack Snipe; if you're looking for them, they can't be seen, but if you're not, they can.***

**Apologies to anyone who actually knows about physics, btw.

***On the Discworld****, they would of course be made entirely of Surprise.

****If you don't know what I mean, you're not reading the right books. Go, seek, find, read; your life will be better. Trust me on this.]]