An Even Quieter Period

I'm afraid it's gone from not seeing much while out to not being able or wanting to go out because of the weather. I've been keeping an eye open for reports of waxwings and hawfinches but the former have only just started to turn up in small numbers in the last few days and the latter have been restricted to locations further South.

So the focus has again been on the restricted action in the garden.

Last weekend brought some severe frosts and a heavy snowfall followed by an overnight surge in temperature  to 15C!  But the cold weather has at least brought some bird interest and a jay has ventured into the garden a couple of times, very nervily and constantly hopping around the trees at the back fence.

Jay

It was quite lucky to catch it staying still for a couple of instants.

The nuthatch on the other hand has become more confident and quite frequent on the seed feeder.  In fact I should say nuthatches plural, as it one day became apparent that more than one was joining in the fun.

Nuthatches

I wondered about a pair but it looks like they are both males.

I also put out some fat balls for the long-tailed tits but so far no sign of any takers beyond a great tit but something has taken some fair chunks out of them.

One result of the long mild spell has been I suspect an increase in the local mouse population. A somewhat gruesome consequence was that half a dozen have managed to drown themselves in the buckets I use to catch water dropping from the summer house roof.

Not a great way to go...

A Quiet Period

Not much to report at the moment in spite of, or perhaps because of the recent unseasonably mild weather bringing neither sun nor wind.  More significantly, I was ill with a virus so for a couple of days, I couldn't see much more than the trees out the back and the jackdaws reeling around in the sky.

Before that I did get out for one Sunday bike ride and, while the bird life was scarce, I was surprised to catch sight of a red admiral skirting a hedgerow north of Ovington.  It didn't hang around but I stopped to notice some ivy still in flower and took a quick look to see if there were any ivy bees.  There weren't but I did spot a couple of honey bees amongst a number of imitators.  This was on 27th October in a temperature of no more than 11C and is probably as late as I've seen a butterfly that wasn't disturbed from hibernation.  It wouldn't totally surprise me though if one or two turn up later this week if the sun gets out.

The purpose of this trip was actually a visit to Whittle Dene Reservoirs in pursuit of the little owl,  a bird I've still never seen, and a possible chance viewing of an osprey.  It wasn't to be as the conditions at the reservoirs were much windier so it wasn't a day to be hanging around long.  I did have a bit of a look at the ducks etc. on the water and thought I might have spotted a great northern diver at distance.  But when it came nearer it was quite clearly a great crested grebe already pretty much in its winter outfit.

One piece of success was that I finally managed to catch the nuthatch that has been making coy visits to the caged grain feeder.

Nuthatch

I'm a bit surprised to see it there so often as I'm more used to seeing them on peanut feeders.  I thought some of the earlier sightings I had were of a female, but this seems to be a male.

Incidentally I cleaned the peanut feeder last week, since when it has been largely shunned by all birds.

On a darker note five mice have recently managed to commit suicide in the buckets etc. I put out to catch the rainwater from the summerhouse roof.

Much ado about Sparrows

Since being mislead by the pale starlings last week, I've experienced a good bit more uncertainty - this time about sparrows.

It struck me that there was something slightly odd about a bird I thought was a sparrow. It spent a good long time sitting in the plum tree before finally feeding for a long while at the bird table - not too sparrow-like in itself.

Dunnock

It's the head pattern that troubled me, the rather dark head and white neck band and bib. Anyway google lens thinks it's a dunnock, which surprises me as there's not much flecking on the breast.  I wouldn't normally have much trouble spotting a dunnock.

I'm please to say that a female nuthatch has visited my new caged bird feeder several times over the past few days.  However it makes sure it lands so it's mainly obscured and flies off as soon as I point the camera at it.

Also still at it is the grey squirrel, so there must be more nuts buried somewhere under the lawn.

Where are my nuts?

The sparrow fixation continued when I finally got to Holy Island yesterday, on a day when people generally agreed not much was going on.

The first bird I saw was again motionless in a tree, as if resting, and appeared at first sight to have a yellowish sheen, suggesting perhaps a female yellowhammer or even an exotic warbler...  So I took more photos and tried to get closer.

Sparrow?

Sparrow

Yes, it's actually the same bird.  The yellowish tinge on the first bird is a trick of the low sunlight, the erect posture somewhat untypical and the apparently large beak an illusion.

After a quiet spell, I got another shot of a bird in a tree, largely facing away from me, wasn't sure what it was but thought "Probably sparrow."

Linnet

So google lens thought linnet - entirely possible.

There was however no mistaking the sparrows that decided to assault the remains of my coffee break.  Not many species learn to be so cheeky.

Definitely Sparrows

After the lunch/coffee break - I wasn't sure which - I got what were some quite pleasing results with the camera.

Heading towards the harbour, a call of nature diverted me to the nearby cliffs where a kestrel was hovering.  I tried to video it but it kept moving and then started hovering at more or less head height no more than five yards or so to my left.

Kestrel

So, if you like, I got a bird's eye view of a bird.

In the harbour area I caught up with another ring-necked plover and was particularly satisfied to pick out one of a pair of rock pipits from a well-camouflaged background.

Ring-necked Plover

Rock Pipit

Google lens however thinks the rock pipit is a corn bunting - oh dear, I don't think so!

But probably the best was this pale-bellied brent goose, because of how far away it was:

Brent Goose

You can't see much of the neck stripe because of its head position.  Incidentally that isn't blood in the water but the reflection of the paintwork from a nearby boat moored at the water's edge.

There was just the one.  However the chap at the crab sandwich stall (I was still hungry) reckoned there had been as many as 6,000 but most had gone inland.  Sure enough, when I ventured further towards the causeway, there were 20 or 30 more, including I think some of the dark-bellied variety.

Brent Geese

Getting Back into Birds

As the summer has faded into autumn, I've started to think more about birds.  In past years I've had some really good luck with birdwatching, which more recently has drained away.  I've increasingly suffered from bird blindness through looking down for butterflies and bees rather than scanning the skies and trees.

A week ago on Saturday, I was in Scotland to see my son and daughter in law, when we fitted in a brief trip to Baron's Haugh RSPB Reserve near Motherwell.  It was actually quite disappointing as not too much was showing - until I looked a bit more closely.

I got a quick early video of a kestrel deciding not to hover but the loch itself was pretty quiet apart from a few standards such as shoveler and lapwing.

Shoveler

Lapwing

There were a small number of waders that I reckoned at first sight to be insignificant but on closer inspection they turned out to be snipe.

Snipe

I was quite pleased about this as I've usually seen them furtively prowling through the reeds rather than in the open.

It was actually quite warm later in the afternoon and I counted four speckled wood flying around the trees.

Overall I haven't been too satisfied with the bird photographs I've taken on my new camera to date, so i asked my daughter in law for some ideas and she's adjusted some of the settings.

The first opportunity to try them out should have been last Tuesday, when I planned a trip to Holy Island to check for migrants but the weather was so appalling that I chickened out.

Instead I decided to visit Newbiggin this Tuesday, as one or two of the more rare buntings had been reported there.

As I wasn't heading for Norway, I skipped the pub and made my way instead onto Newbiggin Moor.

Last Pub before Norway

Working my way up the coastal path, I took opportunities to try out some distance shots of redshank with reasonable success, when I got a slight surprise.

Surprise Plover

Now I reckon on balance this was ring-necked rather than a lesser ring-necked plover, as these should now all have departed and there was no sign of a yellow ring around the eye. It was also the only one I spotted running around the beach. 

There were a few curlew around. one politely posing well on the golf course:

Curlew

I continued along to the point where people sometimes put bird food down and caught up with a numerous flock of linnets, but nothing more special.  Starting back however, I came across a chap lying in wait for a snow bunting  he'd seen briefly.  He also mentioned that a lapland bunting sometimes mingles with the linnets.  This eventually had me scouring the photos to see if I could transform a linnet into a lapland bunting - but it didn't work.

Linnets

Some of the males still had the last vestiges of their summer plumage.

My hands were getting cold so I didn't wait for the snow bunting.

On the way back I remembered a tip on holding the camera and got the best shot of a redshank, later running into a bird that puzzled me and clearly wasn't a redshank.  It turned out it was a turnstone, just didn't quite have the neck pattern I'm familiar with.

Redshank

Turnstone

The tide was just starting to go down and there was a typically large flock of golden plover winging around, landing and relanding.

Golden Plover

My last sighting was of a group of birds that were on the wet rocks near the cliff.  At first I thought there were starlings, which is the general opinion on facebook but on looking at the photo, I'm not so sure.

Starlings?

Some of these birds seem to have brown supercilia and a light colouration I don't see in shots of starlings.  A trick of the light? However there is certainly one added bonus as the one in the bottom right hand area has been identified as a rock pipit.  there's also a small warbler right at the front, partly obscured.

You have to admire the tenacity of some bird watchers - these two have been holding continuous watch over Newbiggin Bay ever since I first visited years ago.

Birdwatchers

Overall I was partly but not fully satisfied with the improved results from the camera.  However it was very windy, as you can hear in the video.

Just for the record I saw three more speckled wood at the Tennis Club on 14th October - maybe the last this year.

No Place Like Home

I haven't been out much lately and not at all to observe wildlife.

The weather at home was typically good while I was away and there were a few butterflies around for a few days on my return, although nothing out of the ordinary.  

It's funny how you suddenly notice something you hadn't registered before, in this case the white marking on the lower underwing of the red admiral.

Red Admiral

Peacocks and large whites continued to predominate until wet weather took over, plus one speckled wood that landed on the mahonia.

A couple of individual stories though:

This squirrel has turned up a few times, burrowing here and there, clearly in search of acorns he buried earlier.

Squirrel

Just after I turned the camera off, he found one and scoffed it all right on the path beneath the kitchen window.  No wonder I find so many oak saplings in the garden!

A few days ago, in not particularly bright weather and a temperature of 11C, it was a pleasant surprise to see a small butterfly land on one of my T-shirts on the washing line. 

Speckled Wood T-shirt

I thought it might be a small tortoiseshell but photos revealed it to be a speckled wood - perhaps unsurprisingly,
I've already noted how small some of them have been this year.

The strange thing was that, when I went out again after two or three hours to get the washing in, it was still there.

I disturbed it and you could tell it was having difficulty flying in the cold air, so I captured it and took it into the house to warm up a bit.

I've done this before with a red admiral that emerged one December, deceived by a mild spell.

Generally it's recommended to leave them for about 40 minutes before attempting to release them, but this one was up and away in about 15 minutes, so a pleasing result.

It's now at the stage where each year I wonder if one more last butterfly will appear on the buddleia now October is here.  With still a couple of sprigs remaining, I had hopes for today but the forecast bright weather only obliged in brief spells.

I'm out tomorrow and most of Friday, so I suspect that's it - unless of course we get a prolonged spell of Mediterranean weather before Bonfire Night...

Danube Disaster

My other ploy to extend the summer was a cycle ride along the Danube from Passau to Vienna, of which the first half was a partial success and the second half a major failure.

It started with a couple of days in Munich, during which it was good to see that some areas of the English Garden (e.g. the Werneckwiese) have been preserved as flower meadows.  After a warm day on arrival it had however clouded over and hopes of late butterfly sightings were restricted to numerous small whites, and a fleeting sighting of a possible brown argus.

There were any number of common darters and following the stream southwards, I also encountered a few beautiful demoiselle damselflies and, momentarily re-awakening my fishing instinct, a number of chub, some of which were of a nice size.

Common Darter

Beautiful Demoiselle

Chub

Amusingly, elsewhere in the Garden, a game of coarse cricket was underway.

I also visited the Isarinselfest where there were some mammals behaving in an inappropriate manner.

Mammals behaving badly

Having made it to Passau the next day and sorted out a couple of 'technical difficulties', I set off to the first overnight stay at Schlögen.  The scenery was pleasant but conditions remained overcast I wasn't optimistic about seeing much at all apart some fawns that were in a pen next to the track.

The one flower in bloom that was at all frequent was european goldenrod, which eventually proved productive on closer inspection.  I think the main bee that I was seeing was a furrow bee, though I wouldn't like to speculate as to which kind.

Furrow Bee?

In view of the overcast conditions I was quite pleased to find a common blue nearby, even if slightly tatty.

It rained briefly, but then even then more goldenrod proved a home to a stoical small white waiting for better weather.

Small White

Further along the track, I saw something on another patch that mystified me, having never seen the like before.  Research suggests that it may be form of potter wasp.

Potter Wasp?

As far as I can find out, potter wasps only occur in the south of Britain.

The Danube at the Schlögener Schlinge looked extremely calm as I set out the next day in reasonable weather.  Progress was however halted by a Forestry official who asked me to stop.  The reason for this was soon clear as a medium sized pine tree was felled, partially blocking the road. 

Here she is clearing up the debris:

Försterin

European goldenrod was again productive.  I think this one may be one of the colletes bees, although aware there are other things it could be.

Colletes Bee?

This turned out to be the only sunny day of the whole tour and, after crossing the river at Aschach, I quickly encountered a lovely butterfly meadow with much still in flower.  Here, as well as the small whites that were everywhere (and I don't think I saw any other white species during the whole trip), there were common blues and a number of clouded yellow males, although they never settled.

Most significantly for me was getting some sort of photo of a small blue, having missed out on one in Slovenia in June.

Flower Meadow

Small Blue

There was then a long stretch on the left bank which was bordered by a narrow area of grassland down a bank from the raised cycle track.  Bird's foot trefoil started to crop up and for some while I enjoyed numerous sightings of the same species (though only one more small blue) and a good few appearances by peacock and red admiral, elsewhere infrequent.

Common Blue

It was interesting that all the common blues I saw were males.

European goldenrod managed to throw up another surprise before we hit the outskirts of Linz in the form of (presumably) another obscure wasp and, while taking a break, I thought I had a mini-miner on my knee.  Perhaps more likely it was a flying ant.

Wasp

Ant

So far, so good but by the time I left Linz the next day, it was already raining and it only stopped briefly around the area of Enns, where there was some nice woodland that might have promising.  After that it just got worse and any prospect of nature watching was abandoned as I cycled on determinedly to Tiefenbach.  

The next day (Tiefenbach to Melk) it rained consistently and the temperatures, which had been in the thirties the week before dropped to 9C in some locations.  While I had plenty of waterproofs, it became impossible to dry things overnight.  I had reckoned with the rain but not the low temperatures and frequent coffee stops were essential just to keep my hands warm.

By this time I had decided, by way of a diversion really to see if I could identify at least one bird or butterfly of any kind.  Before Melk I managed one bird - a goosander.

The fifth day was one of increasingly rain and flood barriers had started to appear.  Others gave up the ride altogether and headed for the train stations. I however continued and was amazed to see that there will still swallows flying low over the swollen Danube, which was lapping at some points no more than a foot below the cycle track.  At one point a sculpture I thought I saw above a directional sign transformed into a sparrowhawk and flew off when I was five yards away. 

I eventually reached the destination of Traismauer in a storm, disorientated and struggling to find a poorly signposted guesthouse.  I was so cold I couldn't sign the hotel registration forms before having a shower.  In the evening, my phone received an emergency alert from the Austrian fire brigade warning that the River Krems, which I had fortunately passed, was about to burst its banks. 

What should have been a pleasant ride through attractive scenery had turned into an extreme weather event and survival exercise.  On the last day the cycle route was closed on both sides of the Danube for the final stage to Vienna and it became apparent that no trains were running. It was largely down to the incredibly helpful lady hosting the appropriately named Gasthof zum Schwan,who contacted all the tour organisers, that we managed to hitch a lift via detours to Vienna with the bike rental van.

I think this will be the last long distance cycling tour I do.  As well as this incident, increasing signs of climate change (e.g. also the forest fire that threatened my arrival in Carcasonne in 2019 and the major anticyclone on my trip to Bulgaria) show you cannot rely on predictable weather any more.

Missions Impossible

My efforts to make something of the last days of summer haven't succeeded.

Developments in the garden have at least been interesting, if not particularly rewarding.  A couple of weeks ago, it was still possible to see the odd comma or small tortoiseshell on the buddleia but they have now absented themselves leaving the peacocks and some large whites to dominate, apart from a single red admiral doggedly appearing most days. During the patchy sunny spells, there can be up to ten peacocks at a time.  I haven't bothered snapping them repeatedly.  

In terms of bees, mainly carder and honeybees have visited, though the increasing occurrence of garden bumblebees continued until recently.

Garden Bumblebee

Elsewhere it really has been a bit of a blank.  

I did a ride to the Rising Sun Country Park hoping for some variety, but in spite of expansive meadowland, the best I could muster was a couple of whites and two commas on a hedgerow - so pretty disappointing.  There were a few dragonflies around but not settling. So the most interesting thing I observed was this couple near St Peter's.  They appear to have been conjoined at birth. 

Mercouple

A ride to the Havannah Reserve also proved fruitless as the hot spot for butterflies has now been totally covered in heather eliminating bird's foot trefoil, so no hope of small heath or small copper.  A lady dogwalker observed that the site has now been taken over by a mob called Urban Green who aren't maintaining it properly.   I noted that there was actually more vegetation (producing more peacocks) at the West end of the reserve.  The whole area is slowly being surrounded by housing anyway.

On Friday I sussed out a couple of meadows near Stella without result and cycled along the Tyne before deciding to ride along the Tyne for a last visit to the Spetchells.  There were a few green-veined white and about three speckled wood, which I noticed were of very small size, suggesting under nourishment.

At the Spetchells itself I had hoped for a last chance of a dingy skipper, which aspiration the almost total lack of bird's foot trefoil put an abrupt end to.  I saw one red-tailed bumblebee but was by deceived - a couple of imitators doing a credible job of apeing a sizeable wasp and a mining bee.

Drone Fly

Wasp Imitator

The one (of several others) hanging round the bee holes is some kind of drone fly and the wasp imitator looks like a thing called the yellow-barred peat hoverfly.  But on a chalky hill, who am I to say?

One good thing, since I've bemoaned their absence, was a showing of several speckled wood by the trees, looking a good bit healthier than the ones I'd seen earlier.

Speckled Wood

Yesterday was another hopeful trip to the Harthope Valley where colletes bees had recently been observed but all I managed was a few carder bees and honey bees amongst the diminishing heather.

Here the silver lining was that a single small tortoiseshell turned up while I was having a snack.

Small Tortoiseshell

I suppose all this activity was determined by the notion that the butterfly season had such a slow start that it might go on a little longer.  If anything it's finished slightly earlier and there are several species I just haven't seen at all this year.   On reflection, I might have seen more butterflies if I'd spent the time in the garden.

Call me a Liar would you?

It's often interesting how nature can make a fool out of you.

I'd hardly finished writing the last post complaining about the lack of butterflies in the garden when they gradually started turning up, first of all a few whites and then one by one the common members of the maligned Nymphalidae family.

Meanwhile I managed a couple of expeditions to catch up on other species.  First was a bike ride to the dunes at Cambois in search of grayling where I did manage to catch up with one rather battered individual almost as soon as I arrived.

Grayling

That however was it - any number of meadow brown, small skipper, burnet moths and after a bit of foraging, a couple of small whites and small tortoiseshells.  I rather thought I'd done better on my last visit, but on checking this was hardly the case.

Right at the end of July, I tried the Hamsterley viaducts for purple hairstreaks and over a two hour period saw eight - a rather sparse result and as ever they were flattering around the oaks and impossible to photograph.

A mission to Bywell Bridge the day after proved abortive as there was no sign of the white-letter hairstreak and to my surprise the elms were already beginning to turn brown.

Then on the 31st - a really hot day - the first small tortoiseshell appeared in the back garden and, perhaps even more exciting, a brimstone moth slept over in the large bedroom.

Brimstone Moth

A couple of days ago was when the Nymphalidae began to appear, as well as both large and small whites.

Small White	Large White
Small Tortoiseshell	Red Admiral
Peacock	Comma

I'm starting to see an awful lot of peacocks when the sun shines, perhaps not unconnected to the fact that a woman down the road in Rowlands Gill has been breeding them. 

Two I haven't seen to date are humming bird hawk moth and holly blue.  I'd like to think things have changed for the better but the weather remains patchy and unreliable.

An extra frisson of excitement was nearly provided what seemed to be an obscure ladybird on my car door handle.  In fact it was a variation of the invasive harlequin ladybird, which apparently can take a variety of different patterns and colours.  It was completely different to the one I once found in the summer house.

Harlequin Ladybird

So that's what I also thought it was this morning when a black ladybird with two red spots turned up while I was trimming the laurel hedge.  Unless of course it was a kidney-spot ladybird...  That was one photo I should have taken but didn't!