Tangoed Godwits

On a sunny day, after a couple of chill grey ones, I took the train down to Leigh on Sea to meet up with an old freind from volunteering and went to try and see some birds at Two Tree Island, the EWT managed reserve which sits on former landfil in the Thames Estuary, beside the industrial wasteland, holiday destination and historic flood icon of Canvey Island. After a little faff and hassle trying to find each other we strolled down the sea wall, as model aeroplanes buzzed around, part of the reserve being set aside for use by model aeroplane enthusiasts.
We wandered along the sea wall, and I realised, having visited the place what felt like not so long since, that it had started to become much greener, with leaf burst everywhere, and scattered daffodils blooming all over the place. A black, hairy, Tiger moth-type caterpillar walked across the path. We ignored the first hide, from which so little can be seen, and made our way to the hide overlooking the artificial lagoon, a shallow body of saline water, popular with waders at low tide and used by breeding Avocets. Avocets are spectacular, but have become somewhat familiar of late, so it was the Godwits that caught my eye. These grey birds, so often standing in small groups, sombre and smart, had begun their transformation into their summer plumages. The Black-Tailed Godwits, with their white wing bars, visible when they stretched or fluttered about, had been tangoed! They are not seen in this colourscheme in these parts for long, and will soon be continuing their long migration North. They looked quite spectacular in deep, rusty orange, a splash of colour among the typically grey avifauna of these muddy stretches of estuary. Bar Tailed Godwits only occur round here during their passage migration, but this time they were present in quite large numbers, mixing with their cogenerics to form a large flock of about a hundred birds, although they remained in their more sombre winter dress. A few black and white Oystercatchers, and orange-legged Redshanks completed the wader mix.

Avocets, Black Headed Gulls, Black and Bar-Tailed Godwits, on the Lagoon at Two Tree Island.

Immediately apparant on reaching the lagoon was the noise, it has become, in the past few weeks, a gull colony. The squawks of these birds seemed to fill the air. With so many of these notorious nest predators around, one wonders how the island is such an important breeding area for so many waders. Many of them seemed paired up, and only adults appeared to be present, all with the full chocolate brown hood of the breeding season, which they will retain only until about July, when they moult. The juveniles were elsewhere. Some searching revealed a pair of Mediterranean gulls amongst them, although there is clearly little chance of them reaching the same sort of numbers as I saw in Rye the other week. I was amused by one pair of black headed gulls, either relatively young and inexperienced, or having just mated, were in a curious position, as the female was attempting to walk around, while the male, perhaps enjoying the pair bond between them, stood nonchalently on her back. He was making no attempt to mate with her, just standing there looking confused, as she tried to go about her business. 
As we left a sign warned us that Adders were common on the island this year. We saw none, and I wondered if the sign had been left up from last year. I would certainly be keen to see one of these venomous snakes, but Friday was not the day. In a Hawthorne bush overlooking the lagoon we found a silken nest of small, hairy caterpillars, each with orange tufts on the read end of its body. Although they were small, I am fairly confident they were Vapourer Moths, a species in which the adult female is, unusually, wingless. Vapourers often have a difficult time as pest controllers, who one would hope, given their responsibilities, know what they're talking about, often mistake them for the more dangerous brown tail moth, the caterpillars of which have urticating hairs, with sad results. large numbers of caterpillars clustered together on the silken mat they had spun, in which more were sheltering.

  We wandered up a little, and could hear the sound of a skylark singing in the air, against the din of model helicopters which were now taking their turn above the model air field.
We saw a pair of linnets feeding by the path, evidently paired up and not forming part of the winter linnet flock, which also graces the island and at one point flew over our heads. There was a green woodpecker flying about too, as well as several crows and magpies.  A meadow brown butterfly flew by us, and a couple of small whites were also to be seen, and a stonechat perched smartly at the top of a bush. 
Ella had to leave in the early afternoon, and after saying our goodbyes I made my way over to the other side of Two Tree Island. Now also managed by the wildlife trust, it represents a more diverse, and in some ways more interesting habitat than the Western side. It contains ample scrub habitats, including some rather stunning blackthorn, it's blossom perhaps a little faded and beginning to fall, as well as reedbeds and two small bodies of fresh water. A chaffinch caught my eye with a good impression of a flycatcher, a dark bird with white on the wings darting from its perch in a tall Hawthorne to catch some of the dance flies. I've not seen this traditional seed eater feeding this way, and it was interesting behaviour. A grey Heron flew over. Blue, great and long-tailed tits all attended the peanut feeder which is kept well stocked by the reserve managers, and a male Reed Bunting, distinct with his black head and white collar, appeared startled and flew past me.
At the first body of water, a concrete edged structure, I saw a pair of Shelducks relaxing in the sunshine, and a couple of black headed gulls. Gone, it seemed, were the bulk of the winter wildfowl, without a shoveller or a wigeon to be seen all day. Mildly disappointed, I continued my walk to the short grass area with benches, which serves as a good spot to observe the bird life of Leigh Green, an area of natural saltmarsh. Out, at a great distance, were a number of curlew, perhaps forty or fifty big brown streaky waders probed with their long, decurved beaks in the mud beyond the saltmarsh vegetation. A few Brent Geese flew over, and landed near the curlews. Strikingly, they were very similar in size, demonstrating what a large bird the familiar curlew is. I scanned around for a smaller one with a shorter beak, in the hope of catching up with a migrating Whimbrel, but I saw none. A flock of brent geese stood on some vegetation out in the direction of southend pier, which stretches a mile out from the headland of southend a few miles East of where I sat. Across the river in kent a chimney spewed grey smoke into the sky, and a bank of cloud had begun to come in from the North, off the land. I walked on, taking a look among the phragmites in the hope of seeing another reed bunting, but I saw none. An explosive burst of song was from a Cettis Warbler, unseen in the reeds, and a wren, also unseen, sang too.
As I walked between the river and the small lake on the south side of Two Tree, I spotted a pair of Moorhens. These swam with their heads low, their necks stretched parallel to the water, and their tails, with their distinct white feathers under their tails displayed, in a sort of dance, rotating in the water to show each other their white undertail patches, whilst moving in a broad, synchronised circle on the water. Not wishing to disturb their courtship, I stepped down onto the saltings, and continued out of site. When I climbed the bank again, I startled a pair of Teal who took to the air. There were black headed gulls here too, but in sharp contrast to those at the lagoon, most of these appeared to be immature birds, with varying degrees of dark markings on their wings.

I reached the end of the path and stepped out, back onto the access track which leads all the way to Leigh station. A few dog walkers passed me, and the light cloud cover became almost complete. I left my favourite local nature reserve and headed back down to Leigh station, taking the time to glance about for bird life on the way, finding nothing of note. Birds were perhaps not present in the numbers I might have hoped, and there was a distinct absence of whitethroat, blackcap and hirundines, which are usually present, but I had seen a few good things and orange Godwits were a welcome, and somewhat unusual sight.