Catching the flycatchers

They sit rather upright, like they are sitting to attention, alert and ready. Their eyes are large, and their short but broad bill has whiskers around the base to help catch the flying insects they feed on. These agile little birds take their prey on the wing, dashing out from a branch, snatching prey mid-air before returning to their perch. They are known as Flycatchers. In Britain we have two regular species, both of which are migrants, appearing in the spring, nesting through our summer and then heading south to Africa for winter. 

The Spotted Flycatcher, could be called the striated flycatcher, or the boring, dullish browney-grey flycatcher. At first sight they may appear just that, a little brownish grey bird with a few streaks. But look closer, and you see the large, dark eye, the pale white underparts with the subtle soft brown streaks. Its back and wings darker with delicate striations on the head. Then just sit and watch. They are wonderful to watch. Sitting patiently on a branch, telegraph wire, or edge of building… then darting out into the sky, almost hovering mid-air sometimes, or dashing around in pursuit of prey. Then back to sitting and watching, the picture of calm following the frenzy of activity. 

The subtly beautiful Spotted Flycatcher

It was one Sunday afternoon in June that saw us sipping tea and eating kindly offered biscuits while watching a pair of Spotted Flycatchers busily feeding and coming to and fro from their nest on a ledge under the eaves of a barn. We had been invited to see if we could catch and ring the birds as part of the BTOs wider ringing scheme. Although just up the road from us, we do not get too many opportunities to ring adult Spotted Flycatchers and were only too happy to take up the offer. With the birds busy feeding chicks it was not too long before the one, and then the other were caught in our strategically placed net. The process was quick, we are old hands now, and it is not long before the birds are back catching insects and feeding their chicks. Just a little time though to admire the subtle beauty of these little birds. 

The other species is the Pied Flycatcher. Much more of a western UK bird, we do not see them much at home in the East of England. But travel west and we have often been found helping out with nest box monitoring projects for these charming little, black and white birds in the sloping woods of Wales. It is not however a bird one expects to catch when mist netting in your parents-in-laws garden. Namely because we are mostly catching birds that come into the seed and nut feeders to eat, and Pied Flycatchers like the Spotted ones prefer their food a little more wriggly, flying, and alive. So when Lee picked a rather dull brown bird out of the net it took us a moment to realise what it was! Females and young Pied Flycatchers tend to be browner than the striking black and white males. But there are still the Flycatcher features of short but broad bill, large eyes, and in this case the white patches on the wing and tail telling us it is a Pied. In fact it was a bird of the year, hatched probably only a few months before in one of the surrounding woodlands. But to see it, let alone catch it in the garden is quite something else! 

The unexpected Pied Flycatcher caught in the garden!

The House Martins

Finally a dry, sunny, warm Sunday morning. Through a bright blue sky with only a few white fluffy clouds soar numerous, small, dark pointy winged birds with forked tails. As they twist and turn against the sky a brilliant white belly and rump flash against the dark back and wings. Their calls fill the air. To me it sounds like someone blowing short raspberries, Robyn in particular does a very good impression. It is in fact a short chirrup, but I like the analogy of my daughter blowing raspberries better! There are twenty or so of these small birds dashing through the warm morning. In groups they dip low and then shoot up under the eaves of the small brick cottage sitting near to farm buildings and open ground. Looking up under the eaves there are a dozen or so small, round, muddy brown blobs attached to the underside with a small dark hole. The birds are House Martins, and with the reed beds at Cranwich completely flooded with limited access we decided to try our luck at trying to catch some of these gorgeous little birds. 

The distinctive House Martin

In the same way we caught Swifts, we now hoist up a net in front of the eaves and the House Martin nests. As the birds drop out of the nest they invariably fall into the pockets of mist net and we are able to extract them safely. 

Up close they are not merely a black and white bird. The feathers on the back are glossy dark bluish purple, the contrast with the white rump and belly is striking. But the very best feature of House Martins are their feathered legs, right the way down to the claws on their toes. 

Up close to the House Martin

As with the Swifts one might ask the question, why go to this much trouble to try and catch House Martins? Well sadly, like the Swifts, House Martins are Amber listed on the Birds of Conservation Concern and has undergone a moderate decline in numbers. 

House Martins are a summer breeder, spending the winter south of the Sahara in Africa. They arrive from April, and although many do not start breeding immediately very soon they begin to build their little mud nests, often repairing old nests.  It is a delight to see small groups of chattering House Martins at muddy pools of water during the early summer, collecting their beakfuls of mud before swooping up to careful place them to form a the muddy shell which is then lined with soft feathers. One of problems is the lack of nesting spaces with modern buildings and the removal of nests from houses. It is illegal to remove House Martin nests during the breeding season, although many are still unfortunately destroyed because of the issue of the bird’s droppings. 

House Martin chicks peeking from the nest

Such is the concern with the decline in House Martins nesting in the UK, especially in England, the British Trust for Ornithology is running a National Survey of House Martins to try and establish reliable population estimates, investigate how the population is distributed and look at the position of nests, timing and number of broods. If you would like to find out more about the survey, and maybe even make a donation to help fund the research then please check out the BTO website. 

For us we now have the exciting opportunity of a breeding colony of House Martins that we can monitor on a regular basis. 

Photo Gallery by QuickGallery.com

Stanley

On 31st May 2014, on a very misty, very early morning, I caught my first adult cuckoo. He was a stunning bird, and as well as having a metal ring with a unique number this cuckoo was also fitted with a satellite transmitter as part of a BTO project. I wrote a story about that morning called To Catch a Cuckoo, and at the end of that post I asked where would this cuckoo go, how would he fair during his migration south and hopeful return? The bird was named Stanley by generous sponsors Derek and Maggie Washington. 

The magnificent Stanley

Well, by June 2014 Stanley was off! He was over the English Channel and heading south. It is one of the interesting results the tagging project is showing, male cuckoos in particular do no hang around, and very quickly start heading south. By August he was across the Sahara and recovering from the crossing in the dry regions of Nigeria and Cameroon. By September 2014 he had moved further south over the Equator into the rainforest block of Congo and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Here he stayed until starting his northerly migration in January 2015. Heading northwards through West Africa, Stanley arrived in southern Spain in April 2015 and returned to the UK by the end of the month. He was the third of the tagged cuckoos to arrive back, but perhaps a little oddly arrived in Cornwall before heading back to his breeding grounds in Norfolk. Once again Stanley did not stay long, and by mid-June he was in southern France heading south. He arrived in Africa by the middle of July, and by September he was back in the Congo rainforest in the same area where he had spent the previous winter. By March 2016 he was well on his way north and west, and the race with the other tagged cuckoos was on! Who would be first back this time? Early April and Stanley raced over the Sahara and then the Mediterranean, hot on the heels of Vigilamus who was leading the race of the tagged cuckoos. April 21st 2016 and Stanley had won the race! He was the first of the tagged cuckoos to return to the UK in 2016! Whoop! Even more interesting is that once again he first touched down on English soil in the south west! This time Devon. By the 22nd he was back in Norfolk and near to Cranwich!

Such wonderful data is coming back from the satellite tagging, more that we could get from just metal ringing alone. The map on the BTO’s website shows that Stanley tends to head straight down through Italy and across the Sahara on his way south. While on his return he heads northwest into West Africa before heading across the Sahara and back through southern Spain. So far he always seems to make landfall in southwest England before heading northeast to Norfolk.

In the time since I caught Stanley and fitted his metal ring things have changed for me. My life has turned upside down, in a very good way, with the arrival of my little Robyn. But I have continued to catch and ring birds. I have not however held an adult cuckoo in that time.  Stanley, of course is not the only cuckoo to be back in the UK and Norfolk. My first cuckoo of the year was at our ringing site, near to Stanley’s breeding ground, on the 17th April. Then just yesterday, at the next ringing session again a cuckoo could be heard. This time, with the Robyn alarm waking us extra early we took the opportunity to set a net in the hope we might catch another cuckoo. It was not looking great, with the net remaining empty all morning and with a cuckoo tantalising us in the trees nearby. In typical fashion though the last check revealed a rather large looking grey bird in the bottom shelf. For the first time since Stanley almost two years before I had an adult male cuckoo in the hand! While this cuckoo does not have a satellite tag to tell us all the fine details of his movements, he does have a metal ring which if recovered will certainly contribute to the knowledge we are building of these incredible birds. 

The equally stunning cuckoo caught today...

What a bird!

Information on Stanley's journey so far was used with the kind permission of the BTO. 

A Snipe's Tale 2: The Return of Jack

There have been two tales of snipe for Wild Barley. The first the story of a Common Snipe ringed at our site in Cranwich and recovered in northern Spain and the second the story of both Common and Jack Snipe caught and ringed in North Wiltshire. They may also may a cameo appearance in the stories from The Gambia, but as you can tell we do not usually catch Snipe in Norfolk. And we are not alone. In 2014 only one Snipe was ringed in the whole of Norfolk, and no Jack Snipe! You have to go right back to 2009 to find the last Jack Snipe ringed in Norfolk. So when scouting out a new site at a local farm and the distinct call of not only Snipe but Jack Snipe comes from tufts of grass and reed surrounding pools it immediately piques the interest of whether we could catch them. The experience of ringing with others know becomes invaluable. Those opportunities to learn and watch from other ringers to have caught Snipe before, both in The Gambia and North Wiltshire, provide invaluable knowledge and ideas. 

Just before dusk, with the sun heading for the horizon following a cool, very early spring day, nets were set around one of the farms pools. The idea was to catch any birds coming into the edges of the pools to roost. Dusk meant the nets would not be so visible to birds that have such good eyesight. 

Sunset over the site

There was no guarantee it would work. There never is. But luck, or knowledge, was on our side and the return to the nets revealed not one, but three Jack Snipe! 

These three, along with the rest of the wintering Jack Snipe population in the UK will soon be hearing off to Scandinavia and Russia to breed. But at least now a very small (OK a teeny tiny) proportion of the Norfolk wintering population have rings on and so there is always a chance they will be recovered and that might reveal where exactly there are going to breed. Just to have them in the hand provides a unique opportunity to study aspects of their moult and biology and ultimately to contribute to the knowledge of this species. 

It is a privilege to hold any bird in the hand, but to hold those that are rarely caught is extra special. So it is a huge congratulations to Lee for catching three of these wonderful birds. 

The beautiful Jack Snipe

Ringers to the Rescue

It happens more often that you might think. Birds getting into buildings. It could occur for a number of reasons, perhaps they find their way in for a warm, dark place to roost for the night. In extremely cold conditions, a warm dark building has a particular allure. It might be they are chasing food, a small bird, a small mammal. While in some buildings and for some birds this is no problem. Think of barn owls nesting and roosting in farm outbuildings; swallows nesting in stables; robins nesting in sheds. But sometimes it is not in the grand plan. A chase into a building or a warm place to sleep results in a bird becoming trapped amongst human activity. These are no outbuildings, stables or sheds with permanent open access, these are warehouses, factories, offices that are locked each night and a hive of activity during the day. Once in, there is often no obvious escape, either because the doors are shut or the activity puts birds off. In many cases they simply cannot find the way out. 

So what to do? It can be distressing not only for the bird, but for the people too. Many spend hours trying to shoo a bird out, only to get stressed as it swoops high up in a warehouse, perching on rafters and lights. The bird seems to just continually avoid the wide open door where the wind whistles through. Then they try ringing for help. But who you gonna call? Well not ghost busters that’s for sure. 

The beauty that is a female sparrowhawk

As licenced bird ringers we are in a unique position, in that we are legally able to use mist nets and other methods to capture wild birds. More than that we have the experience of how to go about it.

So when Lee received a call mid-week to say there was a sparrowhawk trapped in a workshop in Thetford it was time for us to step into action. Amongst cars in various stages of repair, perched high up amongst the dust, the rafters and the strip lighting a female sparrowhawk sat gazing down. She kicked up dust every time she flew, changing perch as she watched the activity below with a bright yellow eye.

With a strategically placed net, utilising an elevated section of the workshop above the offices, it was not long before we had the bird safely in a bird bag and ready for releasing. We took the opportunity to ring the bird, it is not that often that we catch female sparrowhawks as they tend to be bigger than males and do not readily stick in our small mesh nets. With some biometrics taken and a brand new shiny ring, the last thing we did was show the bird to the workers, who for the morning had simply seen the tail end of a brown streaky bird sprinkling dust on them. Many had never have seen such a beautiful bird so close…

Here you get a real sense of the size of the bird

And so to the great relief of bird and workers alike this trapped sparrowhawk spread her wings and took off into the bright Thetford sunshine, no worse for wear from the experience of the last few hours. 

The Colours of the Rainbow

‘Red, and yellow, and pink and green, purple and orange and blue. I can sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow too’.

Well following this weekend I can sing a ringing rainbow, sing a ringing rainbow too!

Red

First we returned to the farmland where last week it was white, crisp and cold. Today it was milder, a little soggy underfoot but a keen breeze meant I was glad for the four jumpers, leggings and bobble hat that had created a personal sauna in the car! Although there were not as many birds around as the previous week, there were still large flocks of finches and various buntings humming in the hedgerow and thorny bushes. 

And so the first birds of this weekend’s ringing rainbow were lesser redpolls. With that red splodge on the head, and with the males sporting bright red across the chest, cheek and rump. 

Stunning male lesser redpoll

Yellow

The yellowhammer, one of the quintessential farmland birds in my mind. Their distinctive song, calling out for bread but no cheese, rings out from hedgerows and trees across farms during the summer. But here in Thetford Forest they also make the most of the various aged stands of pine trees, nesting in the stump rows and in the grass at the bottom of small trees. In winter they are concentrated together on the surrounding farmland, searching out seed from all important stubble fields, and at this site making the most of the millet scattered along the base of the hedgerow and in the feeders that hang from it. 

And what a bird. Yellow, yellow, yellow! Brilliant and bright. 

Equally stunning yellowhammer

Pink

OK, so over this weekend pink birds were few and far between :) but fear not as we return to those lovely redpolls! While the head most of the time is bright even in young birds red (but not always as we’ll find out later!), the colour on the breast in males takes its time to come through, to the extent that young birds that hatched last year and have no red on the body should not be sexed, as they could be females. Some young males do however start to show some red on the cheek, chest or rump. This red though is often faint, just one or two feathers and in some cases looks almost pink……

Green

Here I could go down the greenfinch route, and yes we did catch a couple at the farmland site. But it was the visit to a friend’s garden near Diss on the Sunday that produced the real green star of this weekend. Their garden lies surrounded by horse paddocks, with some tall trees creating dark woodlands patched amongst the rolling pasture. Setting up and it was the call of this bird immediately in the tall trees behind the house that caught our attention. A harsh, loud, laughing and distinctive ‘yabba yabba yabba’. So many times through the year do I hear this call, see a bird flying away in an undulating motion, or hopping amongst the grass searching for ants. The bird is the green woodpecker. Only once have I seen one in the hand and only once has Lee caught one before. A large, stocky bird, more accustomed to wider open spaces where nets are so visible, they are not the easiest of our native woodpeckers to catch. This grey, dreary morning however was brightened by a beautiful, adult female caught in one of our nets.

Soft green feathers cover the back and wings. The belly, chest and neck are paler green, while the rump is almost luminescent greeny yellow, beyond which the short tail becomes dark at the end. A brilliant red cap sits over a black mask and moustache, a brilliant white eye and a long sturdy bill. The lack of red in the moustache tells us this bird is a female, the quality of the feathers and their patterning tells us she is an adult. 

What a beaut! Female green woodpecker

Purple

So I have to admit we did not catch a purple bird this weekend… there are not too many purple herons, or sandpipers, or glossy starlings at these sites….

Orange

Once again we return to our redpolls. While most show the characteristic red, and in many it’s really red, there is, like with anything in life, so much variation! And this Saturday morning we caught a variety, from yellow-polls to one whose head looked, yup you guessed it orange!

An orange-poll!

Blue

If there is one bird we catch a lot of at all of our ringing sites, not so many at this farmland site but certainly at the house, it is the blue tit. A common bird in our gardens and often much maligned by ringers simply because we catch so many and due to the fact that they bite and are pretty aggressive! But look closely at a blue tit for a moment and they are a pretty cool bird, what with the stunning combination of blue, yellow and white but also with the black streak through the eyes that looks like a superheroes mask! They don’t tend to move too far, but have proved very useful over the years in training new ringers and understanding moult. Here, on this ringing rainbow weekend there is only one bird to stand for blue. But amongst the fifty or so we caught at the house on Sunday there was one that caught the eye. Already ringed with a sequence we did not recognise, it turns out this little blue tit had been ringed at High Lodge the other side of Thetford from the house near Diss! OK so it is only a distance of 9 miles, but for blue tits that ain’t half bad! 

The blue tit

And what do you find at the end of a ringing rainbow?

A pot of goldfinch!

Goldfinch

Ghostly Gulls

It seemed the spirit of Halloween was lingering, as a spooky, thick fog obscured all but the closest trees and the river. There was no wind and the dangling leaves of the willows trailed in the smooth flowing water like fingertips creating miniature ripples and whirlpools. Out of the white gloom came a brilliant flash of blue as a kingfisher shot down river and up into the lower branches of the willow, watching and waiting. The other birds of the river continue with their morning rituals, although it is already comparatively late in the day for them with the sun having been up for a few hours already. Ducks meander just past the old road bridge on whose worn stone you can still see the scars from tanks. Canada Geese preen themselves or feed on the grassy banks oblivious to the occasional car that appears briefly from the gloom. Overhead the harsh call of Carrion Crows and the cackle of Jackdaws echoes through the fog. Moorhens emerge from the reeds and sedge along the river’s edge with their characteristic bobbing head, circle a few times then disappear again. A family of Mute Swans, the two young still greyish brown, slowly patrol this small stretch of river. From the shrouded trees comes the twittering calls of various tits, Robins and Blackbirds, all heard but not seen.

Black-headed Gull (winter plumage)

Across the dark water stretches a footbridge, the clattering of puppy paws and footsteps its usual fare. But today it has a mist net covering its length, rising high above its barrier. The lure of food brings the ducks, swans and even the Moorhens closer to this bridge, and with them come the Black-headed Gulls. Brilliant white underneath, with silvery grey backs and bright orangey red legs and bill, they bounce effortlessly through the air like ghosts. Their heads are essentially white, with just a smudge of black behind a bright, black eye. Twisting and turning they spy the provisions, dropping down to pick at it from the water’s surface, watching as what is not gobbled by duck, goose or swan floats down river and under the bridge. The gulls flick up and over the bridge and one falls into the trap. The large mesh net is adept at holding the larger, longer winged gull until it is removed by experienced hands. 

And so there it is, in the hand, a small elegant Black-headed Gull. All ready for a metal ring, and in this case a colour ring to add to the project looking at gull movement from the region. We know birds are often moving between the UK and the continent especially Denmark and The Netherlands. But individuals have been found further afield including Senegal and Mauritania. So where will this bird go? Who knows but it will be easier for someone to report it since it has a colour ring which means it can be identified without being re-caught.

Ringed and colour ringed

It does not take long to process the bird. Unlike some of the larger gulls that take a number of years to replace all their juvenile feathers and look adult, Black-headed Gulls are will attain adult plumage when they are just over one year old. So at this time of year, there will either be first-winter birds (so birds hatched this summer) or adult winter birds. And so with that, and its colour ring, the bird is weighed and measured and then released quickly disappearing into the smokey fog. 

Red Letter Day

For the last couple days the winds has been coming in from the East, sending birders scurrying to the coast in search of rare and vagrant birds brought over from the continent. Red-flanked blue tail, yellow-browed warblers, Isabelline shrike and Pallas’ warbler all turning up at coastal sites around Norfolk and Suffolk. To me, yes these are exciting birds, some of which I would love to see. But my priorities have changed. And it is not all down to the little Robyn bird that has become the centre of my world over the last 12 weeks. Even before she arrived, once I had become a bird ringer my priorities and focus shifted from birding to bird ringing. The easterly winds may have brought some unusual birds but it also heralded the return of our common winter migrants. Across the dark velvety sky in the early hours of Wednesday morning, with stars still twinkling and only the smallest hint of lightening of the sky signally the coming dawn, came the distinct but thin, almost wistful ‘seep’ call of one of our commonest winter migrants, but also one of the most beautiful. 

In the gathering light, with the reeds and trees at Cranwich rustling quietly in the breeze, we set a series of mist nets. Through the dark comes the deep rumbling roar of Red Deer, hidden by darkness and trees but sending tremors through the early dawn. As the morning draws on the sky is soon filled with hundreds of small, dark thrushes, with that distinct ‘seep’ call. They are Redwing. Circling through the sky now filled with hurrying clouds, moving in flocks from one tree to another and soon dropping down to where our nets stretched through open corridors between the pools, reeds and trees. 

The beautiful Redwing

Up close they are beautiful birds. A bold, creamy stripe above the eye, cuts through the olivey brown feathers of the head. A slightly less pronounced stripe runs underneath the eye. The glossy brown continues down the back and tail, while underneath the pale chest is streaked with dark brown spots. Under the wing is a deep, chestnut-red splash of colour that spills onto the flank and from which the bird gets its name. 

For each bird we look to age it by assessing the quality of the feathers, looking for any changes in colour, any pale fringing and the amount of wear. From this we can tell whether the bird hatched this year, or either the year before or at some point before. Due to the way adult passerines moult after each breeding cycle we have no way of knowing exactly how old the bird is from feathers alone. Only ringing details can do that. Once aged, we measure its wing, record how much fat it has, the condition of its breast muscle, and weigh it. It is then released to join the rest of the flock still hanging round the willows and alders of Cranwich. 

It is a tremendous day, with so many Redwings moving through we inevitably managed to catch a few…. Well 66 to be exact! But that was not all for the day, Goldcrest, Treecreeper, Robin, Chaffinch, Chiff chaff, Wren, Greenfinch, Reed Bunting Long-tailed Tit, Cetti’s Warbler, Kingfisher, Siskin, Lesser Redpoll, Song Thrush, Marsh Tit, Great Tit, Blue Tit and even a Willow Tit (a species that until this year we have not caught on the site since 2009!) added to a the grand total of 195 birds caught and processed on this Red Letter Day for ringing at Cranwich. 

Willow tit 

Cetti's Warbler

Bearded Beauties

Head to many of the larger reed bed sites in Norfolk and Suffolk and you have a good chance of encountering these little birds. In many cases you may not even see them. From the tall, waving reeds their nasal ‘ping’ bounces around like a pinball machine. If you do see one, it is often a small, seemingly brown ball of feathers, trailing a long tail zipping across the tops of the reeds. If you are lucky enough to catch site of one stationary you are confronted with a small, beautifully marked and delightful little reedling that is at home gripping on to a vertical reed stem. The brown is revealed as a tawny, orangey brown and there are stripes of creamy white and black on the wings, a long rufous brown tail trailing behind the stocky little body. The males have a silvery blue grey head, small bright yellow bill, brilliant orange eye and stunning black moustaches... so I guess Moustached Tit did not have quite the same ring as Bearded Tit. The females, while lacking the silvery grey head and moustache, are still just as delightful but in a more subtle way. 

So yes, while throughout the year you may be lucky enough to hear or even see these little, restless birds in the larger reed beds of the region. But at our comparatively little reed bed at Cranwich? Well as a matter of fact yes! In the past few years the characteristic pinging of a pair of Bearded Tit has been heard in the reeds fringing the margins of our pools. Clearly while many Bearded Tits remain in their large reed beds year round, some disperse during the winter. The calls at Cranwich have only been heard in the autumn and spring, there is no sign of them breeding… yet.

So with the final session of the season underway it is with some excitement that through the still, cool autumnal early morning we hear that pinball ping. With the sun beginning to warm the cool air it was with delighted surprise that from the bird bag I took out a stunning, male Bearded Tit. The first time I had held this gorgeous bird in my hand. The next net round brought the added pleasure of catching a female. 

A stunning male Bearded Tit

No less beautiful, the female Bearded Tit

So here we are, on our little reed bed site with a pristine pair of Bearded Tits. Both adult and young of the year replace all their feathers at the end of summer, so there is no way of telling whether these were young dispersing or adults moving away from the breeding sites. Where did they come from? In all likelihood to answer is nearby Lakenheath but may be somewhere further afield? But where do they go to? Remain at Cranwich for the winter or carry on to some other destination? And where will they return to breed? One day could the answer to that be Cranwich? Ringing this pair will hopefully help to start providing some answers…

The Isle of Wight Ringing Course

Haseley Manor, in Arreton on the Isle of Wight was built on the site of a Saxon Manor house which existed at the time of the Domesday Book. In its long history it has been owned by four kings, used as a Monastic Grange, accommodation for farm workers and even as a museum. Now it is a privately owned home, filled with many original features from its varied past. Today the land surrounding the house has also been transformed, from agricultural fields into a haven of pools, trees and shrubs. Walking through the reserve, watching birds flit from tree to tree, swallows swoop overhead and hawker dragonflies zip past, transparent wings glinting in the sunlight, or treading the wooden floor boards of the manor house, drinking in the history the walls, beams, fireplaces and ornaments have to offer, I wonder what the previous owners of Haseley Manor would make of the group of 20 people stringing up fine mesh nets to catch birds, only to attach a small ring and let them go!

What would King Harold make of it, or William the Conqueror? Or Henry the Eighth? What would the community living in the abbey think? How times have changed. How the use of the manor has changed with the times. Today not only is the Manor a home and a wedding venue, it is also a place for the scientific study of birds. 

Along the maze of grassy paths throughout the grounds, mist nets have been strategically placed in order to catch the birds that breed amongst the trees, bushes and along the waters edges, but also to catch the birds moving through heading south for the winter.

The setup at the Manor also lends itself to teaching. Over the years the Isle of Wight Ringing Group has grown, and since 2007 so has the Ringing Course, run by the group and providing ringers from all over the UK and beyond to gain more experience and to go for assessments for permits. 

Back in 2007 I gained some of my very first ringing experience on the course, getting a taste that would inspire me to continue and start my training process. In 2010 I returned the island and the course and was recommended for my C permit. Now in 2015 I have returned once more as an A permit holder and a mum!

Over the four days ringing on the course the team processed over a thousand birds, but the set up allowed plenty of time and opportunity for training, exchange of knowledge and assessment. The variety of birds provided opportunity to take a look at resident and migrant birds. While birds like Redstart, Tree Pipit, Spotted Flycatcher, Lesser Whitethroat and Firecrest may have been the highlights, the opportunity to look at plenty of Chiff Chaff, Blackcap and Robins gave the chance to get your eye in to seeing subtle old greater covets and to practice assessing fat scores. 

A stunning male Redstart

The Saturday evening found the entire team basking in a glowing sunset, warm orange light from a dipping sun filtering through the trees. Overhead in a sky fading from deep blue to pale orange thousands of small, pointed wing and tailed hirundines swoop overhead. As dusk approached and the temperature cooled, fleeces replaced sunglasses, and the number of swallows in particular built up so that it seemed a swarm of them swirled over the trees and pools. One, two, three then many more began dipping down to the water’s surface, with an occasional splash a bird would touch the surface either taking a drink or attempting to knock parasites from their feathers. Each splash sent up a tiny fountain of water droplets, twinkling like little gems in the sunlight. Then with the last rays of sunlight and the shadows deepening, they began to plough into the trees and bushes to roost. And there a small proportion of them headed into the mist nets. Once darkness had fully taken hold, in the light of ringing hut 280 odd Swallows and a handful of Sand Martins were ringed, processed and returned to the quiet of roosting bags where they safely spent the night.

Sunset over the Manor

The following morning, and through a deep mist obscuring the landscape of the Manor, the birds were released from their bags, ready to return to their epic journey south. An excellent ending to an excellent course.  

One of the many young Swallows

Thank you to the Anthony and Vivian Roberts for their hospitality and to the Isle of Wight Ringing Group for an excellent course. 

A Delightful Demo

The last bank holiday of the summer and it seems in keeping with the summer in general it was grey and overcast. The rain however seemed to be holding off and while it was grey it was warm enough for t-shirts and there was little wind. Perfect conditions in fact for ringing. As part of the local RSPB and NWT Wild about Brecks event the BTO was running a ringing demo in the grounds of the Nunnery. Nets hidden amongst the tall trees of the woodland surrounding the grounds we brought birds back to a little gazebo stationed outside the main building that had been converted into the BTO HQ. Around us through the grounds are gazebos and stalls of other conservation charities and partnerships promoting wildlife and sustainability in the Breckland area. In the long grass of the meadow kids ran swishing little nets in front of them gathering bugs and insects to be identified and in a secret corner pond dipping was revealing aquatic wildlife. 

The ringing demo all ready to go

Throughout the day a steady stream of birds were brought to our ringing station, where the usual process of ringing, aging, sexing and measuring was completed for each. The main difference between this and a normal ringing session being that there was generally a small crowd of people, especially kids, gathered around us watching, listening and asking questions. It was a perfect opportunity to show them birds up close, many of whom had never seen a bird this close before. It was also a chance to explain the process and benefits of ringing. From young blue tits to young goldfinch, with a few robins, blackcaps, treecreepers and wrens, and added interest of blackbird, marsh, coal tit and cliff chaff, there were plenty of birds to keep us busy and the crowds entertained. 

Treecreeper

One of the many blue tits

In total 162 birds were processed with the rain only arriving once the last bird had been taken for the nets. One particular little Robyn took it all in her rather sleepy stride. 

Me and my little Robyn

A night in the forest

I may be 38 weeks pregnant but that is not going to stop me following my interest and passions, within reason of course. 

So 8pm on a Thursday night finds me standing in chest high bright green bracken in a patch of forest. On all four sides the tall dark green of dense pine trees surrounds this opening. Above the darkening sky is overcast with just a hint of pale gold touching the underside of some clouds as the sun sets. It is very still, not a breath of wind troubles the pine needles or the curling fronds of bracken. Beneath the canopy brown needles have collected along with dead branches that crunch underfoot. Out in the patch beneath the bracken the dusty soil kicks up with each footstep as we head through the bracken in search of a suitable place to position our net. 

In the forest setting up nets

The last few strains of bird song drift through the air, a robin, song thrush and the odd woodpigeon settling down for the night. With the net set we settle on the carpet of pine needles just within the shelter of the trees and wait. The colour drains from the surrounding landscape, the bright green of the bracken turning grey. Against the darkening sky the silhouette of a tiny bat darts across our view, twisting and turning with fluttering wings. A larger bat dashes by, a bold black dot with distinctive shaped wings. Amongst it all a new call begins to echo across the forest and its open spaces. A continuous churr followed by a soft coohick. Then there is the sound of clapping before the source of the unusual sounds is revealed. From the trees and swooping overhead in almost silent flight, comes a dark shape with pointed wings and a long tail. The flight can be direct, but also bouncy, with the bird swooping low to skim the bracken before lifting back up and away over the trees. Still although out of sight the distinctive churr picks up again. This is the nightjar. 

Unfortunately and it seems like many of our distinctive migrant birds the nightjar has experienced major population declines. Fortunately like many of species there are individuals and organisations out there working to understand these declines and the movements and requirements of such species. Nightjars in Britain have actually increased in breeding numbers in recent years (whoop!) thanks to a number of conservation measures. However they are still Red Listed and we still know very little about their movements outside of the breeding season. For a number of years the British Trust for Ornithology has been conducting a tracking study of the nightjars looking at not only the habitat they are using for nesting and feeding during the summer on our shores, but also where they are going during the winter. We know that the species winters in Africa and that they pass through places like France and Spain enroute, the tracking allows us to work out the detail.   

And so with a couple of birds drifting around us it was time to try and catch one. With the help of a system playing the churring call of the male it was not long before one came into investigate and was caught in our mist net. 

The type of tags the team from BTO have been using are known as geolocators, these record light levels allowing position to be calculated by day length and the time of solar noon. More recently novel GPS tags have been used. Both require the birds to be re-caught in order to down load the data. Hence the intensive effort each breeding season to catch the birds. 

Tonight our bird did not have a tag and was also not ringed. But this gave the team the opportunity to attach one to it in order to track its migration south. 

A beautiful nightjar

Up close the nightjar is so cryptic it is stunning. The grey-brown mottled plumage with fine streaks on the breast provides the perfect camouflage against the scrub, heath and dead branches of the forest floor during daylight hours. We know it is a male from the brilliant white patches on the wing and tail. The fresh, consistent plumage indicates it is an adult (born at least 2 years ago). Large dark eyes sit on a relatively large head that appears all feather and has a tiny beak with sturdy bristles along its closed mouth, used for detecting its prey at close quarters. But that mouth holds a secret, give it time and the tiny beak will open revealing a huge wide open gape capable to engulfing moths. 

With a new metal ring and a tag securely attached the bird is ready to return to the dark forest. It sits unhindered for a moment on my hand, its eyes getting re-accustomed to the dark after the torch light. It feels like no weight at all. Then with one dip of the wings it is off becoming once again the churring, wing clapping shadow against the night sky, only this time it will also be collecting valuable data to help its entire species.

What a Rail!

They are a bird that is actually fairly common in the watery habitats of Britain, but one that very few people tend to see. You may however have heard it on many occasions but not realised, wondering what is that harsh screech coming from the dense vegetation. Most are more familiar with their less secretive cousins, the coot and moorhen. While ringing and nesting in the reed beds at Cranwich we often hear this secretive and elusive bird but today’s trip would end with a rather special encounter as we caught one in one our traps. It is the water rail. 

A busy ringing session had seen us process just over 50 birds, numbers bumped up by young recently fledged robins with their speckled brown plumage and long tailed tits with their chocolatey brown faces and deep red eye ring. With the wind picking up and the nets down most of the team had drifted away, to spend their Saturday afternoon elsewhere either checking other sites for nests or even heading home for a nap (well we had all been up since 4 am!). It was the last check of the trap, one final chance to see if we had been successful. The water rail is not the easiest of species to catch, and only three have been ringed on site since we began monitoring years ago. It appears though that Lee seems to have cracked it, with two of those three birds having been ringed this year. It is likely that we only have two or three pairs on site so it’s not like there are huge numbers to go for. However with some careful monitoring of where calling birds have been heard, and with the discovery of a beautiful nest, we are building a picture of the territories on site. Lee suspected that there was another pair at the end of one of our net rides, and so the trap had been set. 

A beautiful water rail nest

Standing in the slightly muddy ride, surrounded by the tall reeds and willows I listen to the sounds of the reed bed. The now constant chatter of reed warblers, their nesting in full swing, the distinctive song of the male cuckoo joined by the bubbling call of females, the song of reed bunting, and the persistent high pitched twitter of those families of long tailed tit. At the end of the ride Lee emerges from the reeds, at first glance he appears to be empty handed, before revealing from behind his back the very bird I had been hoping for. It is a water rail! 

Back at the car, I process the bird with care. It is wriggly, threatening to give me the slip. It is so much smaller than expected. Compared with the coot and moorhen I have held and seen up close, it is tiny! And so much daintier. The classic flailing of legs, scratching out with clawed feet is typical of handling any rail though. It is the perfect opportunity to take a really good look at this bird, one that if you are lucky enough to see it is usually over in a flash. Its long curved bill is red, as is on close inspection its dark eye. The sides of its head, neck and its underparts are a steely, bluish grey, a deep chestnut brown streak runs from the top of its head right the way onto its back where the feathers have deep black centres. Its flanks are barred with white and black. It is a beautiful bird. 

A beautiful water rail

The assessment reveals that this bird is in fact already ringed. Far from being a disappointment this may be the most interesting fact. The bird was ringed at the other side of the pool where we caught it, only a month or so earlier. It seems the bird’s breeding territory may be larger than originally suspected and that the males (which is what we suspect this to be) move around more than we initially thought. It is a very interesting piece to the Cranwich water rail population puzzle.

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We return the bird to the edge of the reed bed where we caught it, where on letting it go it wastes no time in scampering away into the dense growth. Once more becoming just that elusive screech from among the reeds. 

Don't count your robins before they've hatched

It may be one of the most iconic and recognisable garden birds in Britain. With its long, spindly legs, hopping across lawns, pecking at seed and insects on the ground, perching on wall, fence, branch. That beautiful orangey red breast and olive brown back, big dark eyes. Everyone knows the robin. From bossing your feeders (for such a delicate looking bird it is actually the one that tends to rule the roost at the feeder in winter) to it’s confident, melodious song that is heard often well before sunrise and throughout the year. This cheeky bird adorns our Christmas cards as well as often being so confiding they will learn to take meal worms and sunflower hearts from the very tips of ones fingers. It is hard to believe they are disdained in other European countries (which I was shocked to hear from a friend who sent a Christmas card with a robin on to a friend in Denmark!). On these fair shores the robin remains a firm favourite even if it will defend its territory to the death. 

The beautiful robin

For me I love ringing and handling robins. Catching them and learning how to age them (sometimes not as straight forward as they first appear). I also love finding their nests. For a bird that is so ubiquitous their nests can sometimes be quite hard to find. Hidden in all sorts of places on trees, on banks, in a wall or hedgerow, or even more unusual places like a horses muzzle hanging from the back of a door on a shelf in a workshop. The small, delicate nest is made from moss and dead leaves, lined with hair and wool, sometimes so perfectly blending in with the rest of the tree trunk or hedge row. Here usually four or five small eggs ranging from off white with brown speckling to a reddish brown all over, are carefully laid and incubated. The naked blind chicks, with just a bit of almost fuzzy down hatch after a couple of weeks and barely fill the bottom of the nest, squirming over each other, huddling to keep warm as mum and dad begin the furious job of finding enough food to feed them all. The instinctive reaction to lift their heads, mouths wide open showing a bright yellow mouth (a perfect target for a parent in a rush) means that when one checks a nest this is often the heart melting sight they are greeted with. 

Within a couple more weeks they are huge, pretty much full size and filling the nest to bulging point. A careful peer in will now reveal bright eyes, alert and looking back. Time to be really careful. Very very soon the next visit reveals an empty nest, trodden down with poop around it revealing that the chicks have left. It lucky you may catch a glimpse of the brown speckled young in the surrounding trees still scrounging a couple of meals from mum and dad. Soon they will be fully independent and shortly begin a partial moult that will, for all intents and purposes, make them look like an adult. Only in the hand will an experienced ringer be able to tell if a bird hatched that year or the previous. And so the cycle will begin again, where possible birds will spread out and maintain a territory for the winter before looking to pair up and breed themselves the following year. 

One of the more unusual locations of a robin nest

Each year it is my pleasure and honour to find a couple of robin nests, to monitor them where possible from building to egg laying, hatching to fledging. Always they have been nests with four or five eggs. This year though, in the crook of a small stump of a tree, overhung with ivy, I found a nest that once more had five eggs. However a return visit revealed a surprise. Not five, but nine eggs sitting in the bottom of this perfect little nest! Never in all my years of nesting (which are not that many to be honest) have I seen a robin nest with nine eggs, but more than that neither have many of the more experienced nesters I work with! Whether this is just a particularly fecund female, or whether another female has come along and dumped her eggs into the nest to save making her own, I will never know. But the female was good. 

Nine eggs! (last one tucked out of sight)

A couple of visits revealed her sitting tight, and I would leave her be, others she would not be there but I could hear her scolding me in the surrounding leafy foliage, ticking above the rush of traffic beyond. I was unsure how many would hatch but the next visit revealed another pleasant surprise. Eight tiny, squirming chicks crammed in. But how many would survive? How many would mum and dad be able to feed. Only time would tell, but a few days later and all eight were still alive and growing, ready to be ringed. Each now marked with a unique metal ring. Whoever or however many do fledge and survive, if they are ever found again by another ringer or a member of the public I will be able to tell straight away they came from my little miracle nest. 

Eight chicks in  a bag ready for ringing

It is worth saying here both Lee and I are qualified and experienced nest recorders and ringers. These chicks were safe during the whole process, which was quick and completed efficiently. 

A day in the reed bed

With the changing seasons things have really started to pick up pace at the reed bed site at Cranwich. Reed warblers have returned in force and their song can be heard all over the site. In the past few weeks ringing has resumed with the most recent session catching a range of returning warblers, from those reedies to sedge warblers, garden warblers, blackcaps and chiff chaff. While nesting amongst the reeds has largely been restricted to coot, moorhen and swan it will not be too long before the first reed warbler nests are active once again. 

This morning mother nature seemed to have sent a little reminder that things are still early and that despite the warm sunny days we have experienced of late, winter has not quite completely finished with us. It is not quite swim suit weather just yet...

The morning dawned frosty with opaque white crystals covering the grass and the thermometer reading a rather chilly -1. Mist hung low over the pools and there was barely any wind, with the only movement coming from the small ripples created by ducks, swans and the occasional goose gliding gracefully across the smooth, dark surface and through the swirling mist that quickly began to rise like steam off a hot bath. 

Morning mist at Cranwich

At this cold hour of the morning there is little in the way of food for birds awoken by the dawn. Instead they sing. Proclaiming their newly established territory, competing with each other in the most melodious of ways. Among the reed warblers and reed buntings that dominate the chorus of the reeds comes that wonderful call of cuckoo; it is a relief to have them back on patch. From the surrounding trees comes the song of garden warbler, blackcap, chiff chaff, blue tit and wren. 

As the morning progresses and warms up, the skies become filled with swifts who have only just returned to the party and join the swallows and house martins who have been back for a couple weeks. Low over the tallest trees those sickle shaped swifts are joined by another, larger bird with a similar pointed wing appearance. Skimming the tree tops, before circling back up and around, high above the pools are no less than eight hobbies. They streak through the sky chasing down flying insects with acrobatic ease and superb speed. They zip overhead causing us to pause in our work and watch in awe as occasionally one reaches out and grabs an insect that is invisible from ground level. 

A hobby catches a meal mid air

Our work today is to move through the reed bed setting up short mist nets to catch those singing reed warblers. A part of the ongoing study on site our aim is to catch and colour ring as many adult reed warblers as possible, so that once their breeding season does kick off in earnest we will be able to monitor nests and find out which birds are associated with which nests. 

Another reed warbler colour ringed