Where has all the bloody sand gone?

Where has all the bloody sand gone?

After a great evening (watching Django unchained) and a late finish, it was hard to drag myself from the pit on a rare flexi-day. Of course, that's what flexi days are for - snuggling up under a warm duvet but traditionally I always organise something that means these pleasures will have to wait until I have reached pension age (86 at current estimates).

So the early morning sun greets me a Cresswell, togged up in foul weather gear for the Big Sea Survey Bioblitz at Cresswell.  A beautiful and warm morning, we gather (all three of us, Anne, myself and ably led by Dr. H) - prospects look intriguing.

However, we arrive at the shore and ....OMG..... where has Cresswell beach gone?

The steps are fully revealed, and a long section of WWII tank traps sit proudly on the high tide line, still uttering defiance at those Jerry schemers. There is virtually no sand and the bed rock shows through, so much so that we thought the outfall pipe had been renewed, so fresh was the concrete on the usually encrusted structure. (Sorry Northumbrian Water, by the way, you haven't done this covertly as we feared).

Add to this that the tide is slow to fall because of a "fresh" northerly wind and this is turning into a morning of surprises.

Our first quadrat is thrown down on the limpet and wrack covered rocks, beyond the end of the outfall and into the middle of the outgoing (?) tide. Amid the calls of curlew, turnstone and redshanks, groups of knot huddle behind any potential cover, look at us wearily, too cold to feed. Once out there we know exactly why - its is bitterly cold, blowing a hoolie and, as a result, damn scary.

So, one quadrat is enough - we wend our way back across, the first abandonment of a survey. Not because of the cold but because the wind looks like it may maroon us out there and the lack of sand means this area is deep and unknown. 

A waste of a day? No so in my opinion - I have learnt a great deal about the dynamics of the coast and the total unpredictability of the North Sea. I remain in absolute awe of this wonderful, ever-changing  landscape and of the creatures that find a home there.

Rommel treats the lads to a cornet from Cresswell Ices

After the event

After the event

A warm glow having completed the RSPB's Garden Birdwatch this morning. An overnight thaw and a bit of rain means the garden is revealed in its full glory after a few days of snow (UK ground to a halt - wildlife carried on).

I submitted my records and glanced out of the window.

To my complete and utter surprise, there were birds there! Goldfinches, woodies, spuggies, dunnock and doves, squabbling with starlings - all going mental over the my fat balls and seed (!)

Yet during the survey, a lonely dunnock was wandering about, with the occasional fly through from the odd bird, too remote to really count. So the results of my garden will be immensely "valuable" to RSPB.

Mind you last week I heard an RSPB radio spokeman who stimulated me to participate (not) with his helpful descriptions of birds including -

"what does a wood pigeon look like"
"well, its a pigeon sized bird........"

"what is the difference between a crow and a raven"
"A crow is smaller"

Stunning ways of assisting the great unwashed with their ID and thence improving the veracity of the work as well as the enjoyment. Good to know our fields have been taken over by ravens - will help with the next episodes of Game of Thrones!

Harrier up 'arry

This time yesterday, I was trapped in my house as Royal Wedding fever gripped the neighbours, leading to my drive being fenced off as the street party commenced. Sitting grumpily in the garden, unwilling to join in and unable to turn on any form of media in case - just like the Likely Lads - I found out the result, I promised myself a better day today.

So on another glorious day, a trip to Druridge Bay beckons. It truly is a beautiful day, clear blue skies, quite warm and the only thing of surprise is a stiff onshore wind forming some real noisy breakers offshore. East Chevington is the destination, where we decide on a wander around Chibburn. Its a great day with a few notable highlights, the first of which was watching a male smooth newt courting a shy female in the small lagoons. Nearby the water is black with a tadpole tide, inky black fluttering - literally thousands of frog tadpoles. Nearby, linnets and sky lark greet the sky with playful song, while sedge warblers vocalise stridently from cover, occasionally revealing themselves with a brief leap into the sky, before parachuting into hiding. At least 8 territories in a small area, with a couple of grasshopper warblers also calling from even deeper cover. Pausing to watch a couple of heavily laden sandwich terns flying overhead, we get the first view of marsh harrier, cruising along the dune edge and heading north. A few minutes later we note a second bird, this time over the lake, this one harrasing a persistant crow that is obviously getting too close for comfort.

We spend a pleasant half hour watching the sedge warblers, also picking up grey partridge and a lush pair of shoveller before deciding to wander off. Climbing a stile, I note a large white bird dropping onto the water just out of view. Tom picks it up again and we are able to tick Great White Egret, very flighty but clearly visble for a few minutes before it relocates into the reeds.

The Bay is busy today, such a lovely day seems to have brought out a variety of people. None are more curious than the  "meerkats" on the dunes, a group of eight men, in various states of undress bobbing up and down at intervals throughout our visit. What a lot of "cocks".

Having watched Sandwich Terns regularly drifting overhead, we were really pleased to note 33 on the main lake at East Chev, mostly bathing but occasionally fishing in the shallows. For me, these birds were the best of the day as their presence shows just how much more integral the site is becoming in respects of a working ecosystem, connecting with the breeding sites offshore. Despite the many criticisms I hear about the site (justified in terms of hides maybe), the wildlife here seems unconcerned, going about its business without worry.

To top off the visit, we have another good view of the GW Egret on Chibburn, feeding majestically along the pond edge. As it flew from view, three birders show up. Greeting them with a cheerful "hello", we must have been made of glass as they looked straight through us. It was therefore strangely rewarding to inform them of their near miss. Say hello next time - just because you have swarovski's doesn't excuse politeness.

It's back...............

Forgive me - I never seem to have the time - but's its back by popular demand!

Cracking day out spent on the fisheries patrol vessel, chugging around between the Tyne and Craster today, in search of cetaceans. With a sea like a millpond, it was perfect conditions for spotting anything and sure enough we did - but far less than we hoped. 4 Harbour Porpoise heading south were the only cetaceans but the birds made up for it with a nice manx shearwater and later a pomerine skua, the highlights. There were loads of puffins, guillemots, razor bills and gannets, with a small number of fulmar skimming the waves so effortlessly (how do they DO that!). Oddly, two rock pipits turned up chasing each other around the boat about 1.5 miles offshore! One or two common terns about and two terns sitting on a bit of flotsam off Coquet Island fooled me in thinking they were Roseates (but its way too early) so not sure what they actually were.

A grand day, in good company and many thanks to the crew for being so hospitable. 

Next time I WILL TAKE SUNCREAM.

Rain Rain everywhere!!

What a day! Thrashing about SE Northumberland on a range of work errands this morning, I was wishing I had a boat rather than a car! Cresswell, Ashington, Arcot - all areas with much more than their fair share of water! Both the Blyth and Wansbeck look extremely swollen and we also had to stop work on a bridge at Prestwick Carr as the water level came dangerously high. 

No Waxwings in sight during my journey through Ashington but I understand they are still around Asda. a number of Mistle Thrushes seen amongst small parties of redwings around Acklington, Amble and Hauxley - perhaps suggesting a mini influx? A quick stop off for some scran at Cresswell Pond, where mud is still showing, produced a couple of Goldeneye, a dozen golden plover, good numbers of curlew, lapwing and dunlin with a few redshanks. 5 whooper swans flew over the hide as I left, heading inland. Someone in the hide reported a med gull amongst a group of Black Headed but my bins just didn't allow me to confirm them! Two sparrowhawks, both male, one at Hauxley reserve and one in Ellington reminded me of the excellent talk last week from Ian Newton.

All in all, not a bad return for so many short journeys and brief stop offs but that rain is going to have an impact and it will be interesting to see how much over the next few days.

 

Say Aye Tae a Pie

Sometimes work can be a pain, sometimes its alreet!

A few weekends ago was definately one of the latter as we headed north into bonny Scotland on a water vole fact finding mission. Our intrepid crew consisted of Tom Dearnley (Driver), Kevin O'Hara (navigator) and me (back seat counterweight). Its a long journey, especially around Perth where we have three goes at finding the right road, during which time Newcastle go from winning 1-0 to losing 2-1 to Stoke City (I ask you!).

The journey is filled with lively banter, most memorable of which is Kev goading us with tales of mouth watering pies from the butchers at Ballater. By the time we reach, Carter Bar, we are all drooling and craving pies something rotten. Needless to say, the butchers is closed when we get there and we have to settle for a tasty italians.

It's cold in Ballater, minus 1 degree celsius, we understand. That was evident from the young ladies frequenting the doorstep of the village pub. No need for extra hatstands here.

Next morning, I'm gazing out of the window at beautiful mountain terrain, with lots of pines and layer of low clouds, tucked around like a scarf. There's a small flock of blue and great tits on the feeders, scrapping with Jackdaws as I make my way down to breakfast. If only my room had been at the front where some crested tits had been flitting around the tree tops!

What a great breakfast mind - all the trimmings and a big bowl of porridge to start the day.

We meet Prof Xavier Lambin (Aberdeen University), who has been researching water voles for some time and can therefore be considered to be expert in these matters. An hour later, I am convinced this has been a trip worth every second as Xavier outlines the fantastic success of the work that has been going ahead in Scotland, guided principally by his research work.

Once in the field on the nearby Balmoral estate, its a "red day" with first red squirrel, followed by red grouse and then two tremendous red deer stags sitting majestically in front of Queen Victoria's hunting lodge! Signs of water voles were everywhere in this very untypical area for the species and we even found burrows in the rocks around a bridge, showing how resiliant they are and how easy it is to miss signs. We also disturbed snipe and mountain hare during the short walk before coming across a large herd of red deer lurking on the low ground (obviously aware that stalkers would be on high ground!). 

On the return journey, prolonged by a massive detour because of a fatal road accident, we reflected on the project which has seen a focus on mink control and involving lots of volunteers. Any gaps in water vole populations can be plugged by a "hard" translocation, ie: animals are moved into the suitable area immediately rather than from a captive bred release on a vole sex farm. In this way, hardy and aclimitised animals have a greater chance of success as the hardiness has not been bred out of them. Its essential that there is good quality monitoring and effective mink control but this method seems to be far preferable to the alternative. Its certainly made us go for a total rethink about this knotty problem and with FC potentially on board, it may have a greater chance of success.

Overall, a good weekend, spoiled only by the collision with a barn owl in the mist on the way back near Ridsdale. But some marvellous and legendary pies!

Halcyon Hauxley

Saturday dawns as a fantastic autumnal morning, crisp and clear, with an inviting forecast. Perfect for a bit of birding.

Leaving the choice of site to others can sometimes be a dangerous thing but this time Toms choice of Hauxley feels right - not too far and we always feel guaranteed to see something worthwhile. We haven't been up there as a family since the fire so I am also curious to see the reactions to the new facilities as well.

Checking out the sightings board in the new and temporary visitor centre, now open, there is a decent list but nothing outstanding. This board has been enhanced by some great sketches by John Steele, worth a look if you're up there. We decided to head down to Erics Hide because of the position of the sun and the wind (its pretty cold today but also very sunny).

Despite the lateness of the year, there are still plenty of wildflowers in bloom, including devil's bit scabious looking majestic. The haws and hips are weighing down the branches, yet to be discovered by winter thrushes, whilst sloes, black just a few days ago are now turning dusky purple following the first of the frosts. Sunning itself on a hawthorn bush, a drowsy speckled wood butterfly languidly took to the air once brushed by the shadow of my camera, joined by another further on along the pathway. Recently common in the area, this was still a surprise view given the relative lateness in the year.

Equally late, the reserve was alive with swallows, urgently stocking up for their impending overseas sojourn, their in-flight menu presumably mainly tipulids, which appear to be commonplace today. Swooping and darting across the sky, these birds appeared to consist mainly of juvenile birds, their urgent feasting suggesting imminent departure. Although young, their mastery of the air was wonderful to watch. Alongside the few perched precariously on the fence-line, a solitary wheatear sits tucked in the sun, its buffs and browns in sharp contrast to the dark scrub. Obvious to me, it took an age to alert my companions to its location.

Amongst the wind blown spume and stranded seaweed, redshank and dunlin feast while mallards and teal sit out the wind, unsure to stick or twist. The nearby fields are full of curlew, hidden from view until disturbed but settling again, just out of sight apart from one individual which continues to probe the mist soil. Alongside is a single godwit, probably bar-tailed, probing the depths, showing clearly the differences in size, shape and colour as well as bill shape.

A dark blob dips and weaves across the water, low to the surface, a sudden shift catches the full light, a turquoise streak as the kingfisher reveals its true colours before passing from view. Poor Tom, dipping on the wheatear as he positioned the scope, double dips, his disappointment palpable.

Perhaps this explains his unusual haste as we move hides, the cathedral space of the new hide fittingly reverential as we sit in hushed tones, searching the sky for a renewed view of the jewelled vision. Three little grebe bob and weave close by, their feeble airborne sojourns creating laughter and some amusement as I try and recall words from the Mikado: “three little grebes are we.....”

More curlew, dunlin and a group of lapwing are sheltering from the growing breeze, curlew numbers rising during our stay until a good size flock approaching 200 is formed. Three snipe hide at one end of the spit, nervously watching wigeon as they graze the waterline. The gang of geese, constantly fidgety, provide a constant background noise but stick to one side of the site, leaving space for a group of 15 cormorants, one of which is diving so frequently he appears otter-like for a brief moment.

Deciding to head down the coast for a while, we wander down the tree lined path, small flocks of tits and finches occasionally breaking cover to dart into safety once again just ahead.

“Kingfisher” - two voices simultaneously trill as an unmistakeable cobalt and copper flash breaks the skyline ahead. Smiles all around prove the value of the day and everyone is happy heading back to the car. Sunshine shines on flower rich banks amongst which goldfinch hang from umbel-heads, a group of over 50 as big as any I have seen for some time. A single tree sparrow joins them from time to time as they wend their way from plant to plant, perpetual motion, a charm in every sense. Tom couldn't wait to add his score to the tally board.

East Chevington and the sky is darkening almost menacing.

A walk through the dunes to the burn mouth for a change, drawn by the glimpse of whitecaps on the sea. Unexpected colours adorn the sand, late blooms from bloody cranesbill, alongside waxcaps and rose galls drawing the eye to a mass of cowslips, proof positive of a hefty crop earlier this year. As we progress, a skein of geese appear from the sea, ragged V's form a breakdance across the sky, these Canada Geese oddly attractive in the air, my least favourite on the ground.

Amongst the beach debris, wrack, kelp and trunks of trees, pied wagtails trill and dip, with a grey wagtail providing some colour amongst the monotone debris. A rock pipit catches the eye, hidden amongst the trash, suddenly popping into the air before dropping out of view. Along the top of the beach, a small bird rises, followed by others, until 9 birds are moving away along the dune edge – surely too early for snow bunting!!

The waves are crashing against the base of the dunes, surging upwards and scattering a large group of dunlin and sanderling into the sky. Forming and breaking, constant movement, their antics comical yet purposeful, I find myself thrilled by the scene. Trish is equally hushed. A single ringed plover lurks amongst the group, his mask suggesting nefarious purposes that belie his true intent. Gulls of all sizes , creeds and colour crowd into the small space at the edge of the waves, searching weed, salad tossed by the waves to reveals scraps of food, requiring robust jousting for a rewarding morsel . Spume topped waves remind me of instant whip, peaks and troughs of creamy foam creating a backdrop to the scene, which completes a memorable day.

Cold hands and face remind us of the approaching winter, but this is my favourite time of year. And to hear my youngest proclaim a love for birdwatching crowns it all.