The remains of the day

I don't like Mondays - normally.


However, today I managed to escape the early morning management meeting for a meeting with Dr. Clive Waddington to look at the Low Hauxley excavation site we completed two years ago. 

Despite the forecast, Hauxley reserve was bathed in sunlight for most of the day and the bushes were full of robins, goldfinch and lots of redwing, song thrush and blackbirds, obviously newly arrived. I was surprised when a chiffchaff started to call from the rosa rugosa thicket, creating the feel of spring rather than autumn. 



The new path through the reserve gives the visitor a much greater range of habitats including reeds and scrub woodland and new screens provide opportunities for views into bits that were previously out of sight. This rewarded me with a great view of a group of 20+ oystercatchers lurking at the edge of new scrape. The light was excellent and the birds were quite close. This group were all perched on one leg and it was hilarious watching them jostle for position without putting the second leg to the floor. It was as if they were iron filings on paper with a magnet beneath! When the music stopped, the bird without a chair proved to be a Grey Plover which had been hidden by the throng. Nice!

On reaching the beach, it was apparent that the erosion of the dunes (and the dig site) was severe and the peat's that had been revealed was stripping back faster than expected. However, the visit proved useful as Clive found some in situ stones within the peat layer which suggest the presence of a man-made structure, probably a fire hearth. Having excavated a similar feature with Clive and a few volunteers, it was exciting to think another relic from the neolithic ages was tantalisingly close but could be gone with a single high tide or storm. 

Whilst chatting I asked Clive about what looked like a piece of metal in the peat. On examination this transpired to be a nodule of ironstone within the peat, ochreous enough to be visible. Clive was excited with the find as this material has shown up in excavations as a residue on flints and it is a component of the material mixed with tree resin that waterproofed animal skins used in the construction of boats. Wow!!!


The peat is a perfect record of the local environment after the last ice age and the erosion is stripping back the pages to reveal some of its secrets, in this case a perfectly preserved silver birch trunk with the paperlike bark as good as the day it formed. Every little bit recorded makes the picture clearer and its brilliant to be able to use this to add structure to tell the story. 

It was also amazing to look at the new visitor centre, build by volunteers from straw, clay, wood and stone only to think these techniques would have been utilised by the residents who arrived in this area after the glaciers had retreated. The only difference is probably health and safety. And chocolate biscuits.

Just to add more sugar, I found a well preserved vertebrae from a cetacean, possibly a small neonatal porpoise, to add to my growing collection. 

I think Mondays should be optional if they are not like this.

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.

Let it snow!!

More snow overnight covering yesterdays melted slush and the garden feeding station is once again active, although nothing spectacular, except the Robin is back.

Much to my surprise, me laddo Tom, asks is we can go birding! Pinching myself to see if I am still asleep and finding I am, I quickly agree, get wrapped up and shoot off to pick up Trish for an unexpected trip to Hauxley. Once I left North Tyneside the roads were S***, especially around New Hartley but were OK with reasonable care. Jesus though - some other drivers make me swear! If they get any closer to my ass I will need lube!

The trip up to Hauxley wasn't too bad to be honest and we passed a field just past the Country Park which was litterally black with geese and swans. Not willing to stop, I left this until later and all the geese had all gone. However, there were 19 mute swans and a handful of curlew left behind. The road to High Hauxley seemed fine and the fields here were also busy, with over 100 Greylag to the right and a nice little group of 14 curlew to the right. As we entered the reserve, some curlew were visible in the the field to the right and it quickly became apparent that there were more than just a few. A quick scan revealed 123 (probably more), impressive total for one location!

Embarrasingly, my Volvo was unable to negotiate the hill into the reserve - I say that because someone's Nissan Micra had managed!

We spend a bit of time watching the feeders and picked up the usual birds; chaffinch, dunnock, 4 robins, blue, great and coal tits, with a single redwing and fieldfare. A maximium of 6 tree sparrows and a song thrush arrived before we noticed our lower limbs had become lifeless, so strolling onwards we made for the new hide.

Taking a quick detour to view the curlew again, I flushed a woodcock, which gave me quite a shock but was a thrill as I always seem to miss these beauties!

I have to say the new hide is a great addition to the reserve and we were rewarded with good numbers and species including 6 Goldeneye, 2 Pochard, 2 Shelduck, teal, wigeon, mallard and 6 mute swan. The closest island held 20 oystercatcher (later joined by 11 more and a nice group of 63 golden plover). A few snipe were also visible plus a single redshank, making itself known to everybody but not moving much, which is unusual.

Whilst stuffing my face with tea, biscuits and bargains choccies from the Asda sale (yum) I noted a single wader on a snow covered rock in the distance. My first reaction was grey plover. I tried to scope it with my knackered Spacemaster (must get a new one soon - it's embarrasing) and could pick out black legs, pale underside and a dark grey but not uniform body. Unfortunately it had it beak firmly tucked away. Checking out a field guide, Trish reminded me that grey plover have distinctive black armpits. "Chuck out the Arrid Extra Dry and see what happens" I quipped to much amusement just as a crow landed and the bird (plus one other that wasn't visible earlier) took fright and skipped off towards the far side of the pond, totally out of sight! So not a confirmed tick unless anyone else saw these birds at Hauxley today!

Thinking we would get a view if we moved around, we set off down the path. Welly wearers, Tom and myself had no problems, especially with the wetter bits but Trish found parts of the path hard going in walking boots. With the sun dipping and the sky turning pink, our day came to a rapid end when Tom found a ditch and took an early and very cold bath - thus requiring a rapid withdrawal to the safety of a warm fire and cuppa. A bonus kestrel almost made up for the awful road conditions on the return journey, proof indeed of the minus 2 temperature outside (!). Brilliant day for us all with a decent list of 35 species in just a couple of excellent and enjoyable hours.