Wanderings in the Strangest Summer. Frampton Marsh, Lincolnshire, and Coombes Valley, Staffordshire.

 Frampton Marsh, 8th August 2020

On a bright and sunny day, with a fresh breeze blowing, Natty and I headed to Lincolnshire to join my old friend Brian at Frampton Marsh, the RSPB's fantastic, relatively new and expanding, reserve beside the Wash in Lincolnshire.

Spoonbills, and a Moorhen.

Here we were greeted near immediately by a flock of 17 or so Spoonbills, a sight which would have been unheard of just a few years ago, another brilliant white heron-like wetland bird establishing, or perhaps reestablishing itself,  in British wetlands. The birds largely kept their spoons concealed, tucked under wings out of the sun and wind. The flashes were covered in Knot, Dunlins, Black Tailed Godwits, the latter in all plumages from tango orange to ash-grey, as though dressed for the summer.'s funeral.  Among the waders Brian picked out a couple of Curlew Sandpipers, smart, dunlin-like waders with bold supercilliums.

Spotted Redshanks

We continued to enjoy a veritable late summer wader fest, with so many returning migrants from the far North and East, graceful Spotted Redshanks in their near white winter coats, so different in their movements to their commoner cousins, Common and Green Sandpipers, and a very smart Greenshank, his head nearly pure white. The breeding waders remained too, graceful, long-legged Avocets, brown patches on their wings revealing them to be the very same awkward, gangly chicks hiding from the rain among their parents' breast feathers just a few short weeks ago.

Whooper Swan and Common Tern

 

Shelducks floated about in their eclipse plumage, and a single Whooper Swan which had stayed the summer, perhaps too injured to make it across the North Sea though capable of flying back and forth across the reserve, lounged on an island in one of the freshwater lakes. The Spoonbill flock flew over, magnificent face spatulas forward, out towards the Wash.

Spatulas to the horizon!

There was not an overabundance of passerines, as one would expect at this time of year, with so many lying low to moult and enjoy the richness of the season, but yellow wagtails, in their muddy looking winter plumage, were active around the cattle, and a few swifts zipped about. Swallows and Sand Martins were ubiquitous. Emperor Dragonflies patrolled the ponds, and Common Darters the paths, while Small Tortoiseshell butterflies fed at the Scabious blooms. 

Common Blue Damselfly

Frampton is an incredibly special place. You should go there.

Small Tortoiseshell

 

Birds Seen: Brent Goose, Canada Goose, Greylag Goose, Mute Swan, Whooper Sean, Shelduck, Mallard, Teal, Pochard, Tufted Duck, Pheasant, Little Grebe, Great Crested Grebe, Spoonbill, Grey Heron, Little Egret, Cormorant, Moorhen, Coot, Avocet, Lapwing, Golden Plover, Little Ringed Plover, Whimbrel, Black Tailed Godwit, Knot, Ruff, Curlew Sandpiper, Dunlin, Snipe, Common Sandpiper, Green Sandpiper, Redshank, Spotted Redshank, Greenshank, Black Headed Gull, Common Gull, Herring Gull, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Common Tern, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Swift, Kestrel, Magpie, Rook, Carrion Crow, Skylark, Sand Martin, Starling, Yellow Wagtail, Pied Wagtail, Meadow Pipit, Linnet, Goldfinch, Reed Bunting.

Black tailed Godwit

Butterflies: Red Admiral, Meadow Brown, Gakekeeper, Small Skipper, Common Blue, Small Heath, Small Tortoiseshell, Green Veined White.

Ruff

Dragons: Common Blue Damselfly, Emperor Dragonfly, Common Darter.

Cinnabar moth caterpillars were numerous at Frampton. 

 




Coombes Valley, 9th August 2020

Of a warm but slightly overcast afternoon I went to Coombes Valley, in Staffordshire. It was surprisingly quiet, with few of the special birds out and about, perhaps down to the advancing season. However it was pretty, though a family insisted upon throwing pebbles into the stream where they Grey Wagtails breed. At least they were not building cairns and diverting the flow of water in the stream. Such disturbance in a habitat so small can have serious implications for its invertebrate diversity. A wasp was busy on the wood of the small bridge.

Wasp. 

I walked the Valley Woodland Loop, as the map called the circular footpath I wandered, and was surprised by the beautiful sight of three Red Deer- young stags- making their way among the trees. Each wore small, but different antlers in velvet. Deer often make their way through the woods at Coombes, but are seldom seen.

Freaky doll stuck to a Silver Birch tree. 

I picked up what my map called the 'Woodcock Trail' and was surprised to find Ling Heather, Calluna vulgaris once again, growing as an understory plant alongside Bilberry, Vaccinium myrtilis, as these species grow in much of their European range, but here associated with open heath and moor. I also enjoyed commanding views of the valley and the wider Stafforshire moorlands.  Someone had stuck a small plastic doll to a tree. 



The day ended with a spectacular orange sunset. 

Birds Seen: Sparrowhawk, Buzzard, Woodpigeon, Kestrel, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Coal Tit, Blue Tit, Swallow, Willow Warbler, Garden Warbler, Goldcrest, Nuthatch, Treecreeper, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Spotted Flycatcher, Robin, Bullfinch. 

Butterflies Seen: Peacock, Gatekeeper, Green Veined White. 

Wanderings in the Strangest Summer. Tittesworth Reservoir, 21st June 2020

 I accepted Natty's kind offer of a lift up to Severn-Trent's Staffordshire reservoir at Tittesworth, in the shadow of the Roaches, and was surprised to find the site heaving with people and their dogs, running everywhere including the foreshore, putting up the waders, including a small crowd of Oystercatchers, surprised and confused at their previously quiet habitat suddenly robbed from them. 
The woods were relatively quiet, and I escaped the throng as I walked away from the Visitor Centre. The carefully managed Wild Flower meadows were alive with meadow browns and Small Tortoiseshells, flying among the ox-eye daisies and the Orchids, and they were a beautiful sight in the sunshine.

Small Tortoiseshell, photographed in 2015. Diving into the archive to illustrate these as I was still waiting for my new camera. 

Most of the avian interest was to be found on the Western side of the Reservoir, where a patchwork landscape of copses and scrub, fringed by fenced off farmland, dominates. A disheveled and unwell-looking Willow Tit adult fed a noisy fledgling. According to the Collins, Willow Tit fledgelings produce loud begging calls, while the near-indistinguishable Marsh Tit is near silent in its youth.  The Willow Tit is a fast declining bird and it was sad to see the adult in such an unfortunate state, showing severe feather loss and the suggestion of avian pox around its face. I hope it survived long enough to see the youngster to independence and the disease was not transmitted between the two of them, as this charming little species needs all the breeding success it can get. 

A beautiful Little Ringed Plover scuttled back and forth beside the water's edge, and Common Terns fished gracefully. The banks were alive with midsummer flowers, foxgloves and Ragged Robin. 
I reconnected with Natalie and we paused a while on the Bridge, and watched a Common Sandpiper probing about in the mud, possibly a returning migrant. A distinctive shape, like an obese torpedo on hummingbird wings, a Kingfisher whirred by, as the Terns continued fishing in the open water.

A Kingfisher photographed in Suffolk in January 2020. 

Birds Seen: Canada Goose, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Great Crested Grebe, Grey Heron, Cormorant, Oystercatcher, Lapwing, Little Ringed Plover, Common Sandpiper, Black Headed Gull, Common Tern, Swift, Kingfisher, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Coal Tit + Fl, Willow Tit +Fl, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Swallow, Long Tailed Tit, Chiffchaff, Blackcap, Garden Warbler, Goldcrest, Wren, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Robin, House Sparrow, Pied Wagtail, Chaffinch, Goldfinch. 

Butterflies: Meadow Brown, Small Tortoiseshell, Green Veined White, Red Admiral. 

Tittesworth Reservoir

Tittesworth reservoir lies a few miles from Leek in Staffordshire, a few more miles from Stoke on Trent. It is operated by Severn-Trent water, serving the Midlands, and, as is the case with many reservoirs, they allow part of the surrounding area to be managed for the benefit of wildlife. in the shadow of the Roaches, It became a rather wonderful birding surprise when I visited last week with Natty. 

A breeze and a dark grey sky greeted us in the morning, and the weather dictated there would be few exciting butterfly sightings today.  From the bus stop we made a substantial walk down a fast country road, past the sad remains of a squashed Brown Hare, on which a couple of Carrion Crows were feeding. The first area we reached when we arrived at the site was wooded.  A river, feeding the reservoir, meandered through the trees. The first bird we encountered was a Song Thrush, perched on top of a hawthorn shrub. It was singing, with the characteristic repetition of phrases typical of the species.  The river itself caught my eye, and sure enough a pair of Grey Wagtails were busily feeding and chasing each other over the shallow water.   These charismatic little birds seem to me to turn up wherever there is water, indeed I have seen them in litter filled storm drains in suburban centres, but only a few moments later a more unusual riverside passerine presented itself. A Dipper flew off the bank not far from where we were standing and alighted on a stone a few metres downstream. Dippers are very scarce here in the South East, and all my encounters with them have been in the North West and Midlands. 

The Hawthorn had just begun to flower in Staffordshire, the progression of the seasons perhaps a couple of weeks behind down South, on account of the slight change in latitude and altitude compared with Essex, and we could still see well up into the tree canopy, not yet closed by leaf burst. The ground was a little muddy, and the river flow quite powerful on account of the recent rain. The scratchy calls of whitethroats and repetitious songs of chiffchaffs dominated. A small passerine which alighted in front of me came as something of a surprise. It was black and white, a Pied Flycatcher! They seemed to be surprisingly common around the area! There was a female there too, and she was quite photogenic, hanging around for several seconds. A  couple of swifts hurtled over our heads on their constant pursuit of flying insects. 

Pied Flycatcher.

As we neared the reservoir the river widened and we moved into an area of wet scrubland. A bird with a bright, salmon pink underside and a white rump could only be a Bullfinch, and on closer inspection a pair were fluttering from branch to branch among the alders which grew out of the shallow water. There were Reed Buntings here too, smart marshland birds, apparently at home in the wet woodland. Singing on a branch which hung over the path was a Garden Warbler, a bird with which I am none too familiar. The Garden Warbler is a bird of scrubland like this, and not a common garden visitor in this country, contrary to the name. It is about as plain a bird as one can imagine, grey-brown on its back with a diagnostic grey marking on the side of its neck. I’d met a single passage bird at Chafford Gorges a few weeks back, but here the species seemed to be flourishing, and there were many!  As the wet woodland gave way to open water, we saw some Tufted ducks and Moorhens, nothing but the usual, on the water. We elected to turn round and stop on a conveniently placed picnic bench for lunch. Quite what perched on top of a nearby shrub and looked at us and darted off into the undergrowth remains a mystery, but it was perhaps a little bigger than a robin, had a rich brown back, a pale chest, and few distinctive markings. There appeared to be a slight white ring around its eye. I called it a Nightingale, but when submitting records to the BTO later I was told that the species was a local rarity, and had my ID queried, so now I am no longer so confident. If it had sung, I would have been confident, but it just watched as I nearly dropped my sandwich and fumbled around with the binoculars before vanishing.

A singing Garden Warbler

We wandered back to the council run visitors centre which, to our disappointment, seemed mostly a fund raising exercise, with no relevant information and no sightings board. The volunteer or member of staff on duty could only suggest we found one of the reserve wardens whilst on our walk to tell us about what had recently been seen. Perhaps it is better sometimes to go out onto a reserve with no expectations.

Our first stop involved crossing the country lane, to where a small area of water had been designated a nature reserve by the water company. The Roaches, rocky hills covered in moorland vegetation, relic patches of a once larger network, stood out before us. We found a small hide overlooking the water, which initially looked barren. A moorhen picked about in the shallows and there were a couple of coots on the water. The sky was beginning to look grey and threatening.  A small bird appeared from behind the island, which we decided was a Ringed Plover, on the basis of their posture, they are more rotund and hunched than the very similar Little Ringed Plover. Another small brown wading bird then presented itself, with a distinct flight pattern appeared and also landed on the island. It would flap very rapidly, and then glide, wingtips lowered in an inverted V, a little like a Harrier jump jet and completely unlike a Harrier. This is another migratory species which is often spotted around ponds, throughout Britain, at this time of year, a common sandpiper, and the unique flight pattern is diagnostic.  An Oystercatcher too sat hunched on the island, and before long a handsome lapwing flew in, mewing, to join it.  At one point, three handsome curlews, birds emblematic of the Staffordshire Moorlands landed. These are big birds, easily dwarfing the other waders, and have declined substantially as the moors on which they breed have shrunk. The land about us, aside from the scrappy Heather and Bilberry on the roaches, was farmland, “improved” pasture grazed by cattle, but here were the birds in their ancestral home. Being familiar with Curlews as very much a winter bird of coastal habitats, it was a pleasant change to see them inland, even if the habitat had been ripped from under them.  As we watched them, the rain began to drum on the roof of the hide.

The roaches, and an angry sky.

We walked back, past the visitors centre, past more whitethroats and thrushes and blackbirds, and under swifts and swallows, which had descended to pursue insects over the water as the rainfall purged the clouds of bugs from the air.   Hirundines and swifts characteristically gather over water in wet and windy conditions. Natty and I, however, pressed on. We noticed, as we walked beside the water, that there was a distinct lack of water birds on the reservoir itself, aside from the typical Canada Geese, Tufties and Mallards, many of the latter semi-feral with white blotches and markings betraying a farmyard history. I think such “hybrid” mallards are very pretty, but they are hardly exciting. A couple of Great Crested Grebes were more like it, and these could be seen swimming well out in the water.

The path took us away from the water’s edge, and the rain continued to fall as we made our way down a muddy track, past a field of improved grass and thoroughly miserable looking cows. A glance into the trees we past revealed long tailed  tits, another garden warbler, and a singing Willow Warbler, but nothing new. It was quite a relief when the uninspiring vista of mud and electric fencing gave way to the dam which marked the end of the reservoir, the length of which we had now walked. It was down some steps and through some pines, along the length of the dam, and up again into a pine plantation. Elderly, sweet smelling Scots Pines formed a dense canopy, and among their trunks dead trees rested on their living neighbours. A goldcrest alighted in front of us, looked around startled, and disappeared. There were a couple of Jays in the trees too.  As we walked through the woods, occasionally catching glances of the water beside us, we startled a large raptor, which disappeared over the water and into a cluster of trees opposite. It’s back was a ragged brown, and there seemed to be white markings on the underside but from my angle I couldn’t tell; it was the bird that got away. Buzzards are not uncommon in Staffordshire but Ospreys are also known to visit Tittesworth Water in spring and autumn, and one was recorded just a few days later. Whether we saw it first, it seems, we will never know.    

Another view of Tittesworth Reservoir.

  

The reservoir still had more treats in store for us. After getting overexcited about a Mistle Thrush, possibly mobbing some unseen mammal in the grass, and having almost completed our circumnavigation of the lake, we saw a small flock of finches leaving the grass. Most of them were pretty little goldfinches, flashing bright yellow wing bars as they took off into a tree, but some were plainer, and speckled. Lesser Redpolls are a breeding bird in Britain, but I am used to seeing them in the winter as they, in the company of other finches, nibble at catkins and other fruiting bodies on woodland trees. Here were, presumably, British breeding redpolls amid a flock of Goldfinches in mid May.  Also in the trees beside the lake, as if wires had yet to be invented, were a number of very hunched, damp and moody looking Barn Swallows. There were still many swifts and hirundines, including house and sand martins, wheeling about over the water, but these specimens had obviously thought it better to rest than spend their energy on thin pickings of insects over the water.  Even on such a grey day, the iridescence of their black-blue backs of the birds at rest was more obvious than it would be when they were in flight.

The tree of Swallows

We met a young family of ducks, as we both began looking forward to getting indoors and out of the rain. A sleek, brown-headed, largely grey duck with a fine chestnut crest, which any old school punk would be proud of, led a brood of ten black and white ducklings away from the bank and into open water. At one point some of the little ducklings even hitched a ride on their mothers back, like Grebes.  They were of the fish eating “sawbill” type, and again I had to check the Collins, but the sharp definition between the females’ chestnut head and grey body, and the small, white patch on her chin identified her as a Goosander. These are remarkable, exotic looking ducks with much lighter beaks than those of the dabbling and ducks which are so familiar. This family were shy, the mother clearly anxious to lead the ducklings away from us, and further into open water, so I resisted the temptation to stay and watch them for longer as, with the conditions and the known presence of a large raptor, making them nervous was only putting them at risk.

Viewed through some inconvenient marginal vegetation, the Goosander family.

Although it had been an incredibly good day of rain-soaked birding, we appreciated the warmth and a cup of tea when we got back to Natty’s house and dried off!

Beautiful Staffordshire

I would like to apologise for the delay, I've been a little under the weather these past few days and have been slow to update. But here goes.

Staffordshire is beautiful. I might be biased because a particular lovely young lady lives there, but the woodland wildlife I met there last week was something else. It’s the beginning of summer and as such the migrants are properly starting to arrive and get on with their business. The resident wildlife is on the go too, butterflies are on the wing,  and birds are singing, proclaiming territories and gathering food for nestlings. So it was at Coombes Valley on Wednesday, when I made a return visit.  No sooner had I arrived than I had encountered my first Small Copper butterfly of the year, a very handsome little creature indeed, with deep orange on his forewings, his brown hindwings flushed with an iridescent orange sheen. He sunned himself breifly on the dandelion infested meadow.

Coombes Valley is a woodland nature reserve, a mixture of young and ancient woodland, clinging to the walls of a steep sided valley, with a flood meadow set at the bottom, lying beside a small, fast flowing river. Where the river bends, sits a bench overlooked by a pair of nest boxes, and it was here that we saw our first Pied Flycatchers. We’d been sitting a moment or  two, fretting about our forgotten lunch, when a very smart little bird landed on a twig just a couple of metres away. It was black and white, with a bright white underside. A male Pied Flycatcher! It took off and appeared to perform a little aerial dance in front of us, in pursuit of flies. It was there for a few seconds and then disappeared among the branches of a hawthorn.

We waited a little longer, and saw, to our surprise, peering out of a hole in a tree, an adult Great Spotted woodpecker. He, and he was a male by the red patch on the back of his head, slowly, cautiously left his hole, and clung to the side of the tree which he had made his home. Waiting for a few minutes, he appeared to change his mind and disappeared back into his hole. Perhaps he was incubating a clutch of eggs and waiting for his mate to return from foraging, so it could be his turn. A Grey Wagtail, all flicking tail and smart yellow, darted about over the babbling brook, and a chaffinch sang its brief, repeated song in a tree above us.  A few moments later the Pied Flycatcher returned, with the female, browner but no less smart and charming, following behind. The male let me take a couple of record photos from a distance. It was, as the RSPB is fond of saying, a “moment.”

After we waited a bit longer in the hope of getting a better photo of the pied fly, we decided to head up into the woods. In the canopy birds sang, robins, pied flycatchers, great tits and willow warblers. A bird with a reddish tail, probably a female redstart, shot up into the canopy and out of sight as we rounded a corner on the muddy woodland trail. We stood and waited for it for ages. We only caught brief glimpses of Coombes Valley’s other resident passerine attraction, unfortunately, but we seemed to encounter a pied flycatcher every couple of hundred yards. The second was in a clearing when I seemed to startle a male and saw his striking black and orange underside as he flew away at speed, again into the canopy.

Among the whole host of woodland birds we saw at Coombes Valley were Nuthatch, Blue, Great and Coal tits, and a very obliging treecreeper. A treecreeper is an odd little brown bird, both adorable and reminiscent of an ageing woodland wizard at once. It has a greyish white underside and a dark, streaked back, and clings close to trees, creeping up the bark against which it is remarkably camouflaged.  This one broke all the rules, and almost posed for a photo, his curved beak full of grubs and spiders, clinging to a tree just metres away. We watched him for several minutes, and even as we walked towards him he barely flinched, just moving up the tree and around the trunk out of view.

As we left the woods and joined the flood meadow at the valley bottom, where whitethroats and blackcaps sang, replacing the true woodland species, a dark shape flew over, and it was distinct from all the other crows. It was bigger, and it had a diamond shaped tail. I’ve not seen many of my favourite Corvid and avian Goth in England, having met most of them in Scotland and Greece, but this was a raven, and a beautiful example at that. It crossed the valley and disappeared over the trees, slowly. There is something about the shape of a raven, its long wings, its slightly back facing primary feathers, that big tail, which just places it in a league of beauty above other crows, imposing and splendid.
Natty brought my attention to what appeared to be an owl pellet on the ground, which was attended by at least four beetles. Some of these had a striking pattern of orange markings, around a shape a bit like a cross on their wing cases.  I recalled the Sexton Beetle, which buries dead animals for its larvae to feed on, and wondered if this was it, confused by the animal remains in the owl pellet. Another beetle was round, with a flattened body, matt black wing cases and an orange thorax. I have no idea. If any of my readers can help I would be interested to hear from them.  

To conclude a day of wonderful wildlife encounters, Natty and I walked back to the nearby town of Leek through the grassland and copses, the beautiful rolling Staffordshire countryside, down a barely signposted footpath, taking us through fields of cows, and pigs,over a disused railway line, into the smart pleasant town, just as the night fell, and in time to find the fish and chip shop closed! The following day, we would head out into the Staffordshire Moorlands again, to the amusingly named Tittesworth Reservoir, to meet some more unexpected wildlife.