Lynford Water

It had been a pretty dismal day, raining on and off, not really inspiring a desire to go outside. By the afternoon things seemed to be improving, the rain had stopped and while clouds still hung in the sky it was brightening. The clouds no longer looked ominous blue grey but were brightening to a more silvery grey with a hint of sun beyond. Now we ventured out, heading into the Forest and to Lynford Water. Right next to the arboretum, Lynford Water for many years was used for gravel extraction, during which numerous flint artefacts including handaxes were discovered. Not only that but in 2002 the remains of at least nine woolly mammoths, a woolly rhino, a bear and reindeer along with Neanderthal flint tools were discovered!  What they had discovered was a site where Neanderthal people had butchered mammoths some 60,000 years ago! It is one of the most important Neanderthal sites ever found in Britain. When extraction ceased completely a few years ago the site was restored with the creation of a variety of habitats including dry acid grassland, floodplain grazing marsh, reedswamp mosaic and reedbeds. Not only that the site was opened to the public. To be totally honest it is not the prehistoric history of Lynford Water that now brings me to the site, although it is exciting to think of woolly mammoths and Neanderthal humans living here. These days with the habitat restored it is the bird life which brings me, and many others to Lynford Water.

Barley enjoying Lynford Water. Photo Lee Barber

Wandering down the path from the car park, the pine trees of the Forest open out to reveal a grassland bounded by patches of dark green pine, some recently felled areas which are a tangle of branches, scrub and gorse, and the lakes themselves with small sandy beaches running into the smooth, dark water. From a stand of birch comes the song of a recently returned willow warbler; our first Norfolk swallows dip low over the water; the sound of siskins comes from the tall dark pines surrounding the open grass. The distinctive song of a chiffchaff reveals a bird carrying nesting material, pieces of reddish brown dried leaves stick out from its tiny beak. A little time spent watching reveals the start of a nest being woven amongst the grass at the base of a small tree amongst low gorse bushes.

Chiffchaff 

We walk around the open grassland, its soil a little churned in places, small prickly plants of gorse and bramble, poking through the open soil and yellowy green grass. Yet more bird song, robins in trees, dunnock in the bracken and debris of the clearfell, and in the open grassy meadow… the call of woodlark. On a small thorny bush sits one of these beautiful, cryptically coloured birds. Once again a little time spent watching this bird and listening reveals a nest. The only reason we search for and approach the nest is because we have a Schedule 1 licence to do so. No one should approach a nest of this species without such a licence. Larks, as with many ground nesting species are notorious for leaving the nest at an early age, even before they can fly. An adaptation to help escape predators. These three were already starting to wander just outside of the nest cup itself, even though they had another week or so until they could fly.  A quick call brings a colleague with some kit and the chicks are not only ringed, but also colour ringed, adding to the project being carried out on this species in the Forest. The colour rings means that the birds will be uniquely identifiable in the field without having to recapture them. It is the first woodlark nest we have ever found on our own and not only that, based on the age of the chicks it is the earliest woodlark nest of the year in Breckland!

Three woodlark chicks. Photo Lee Barber

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. 

Number 3 Oakfield Terrace

A row of four small, wooden boxes line the wall of the house, high up just under the eaves. Each looks out over an undulating patchwork of fields, woods, houses and roads, snaking across the valleys like silver ribbons. Leaves, innumerable shades of green, coat the trees of the woods nearby, while the grass of the meadow is growing long and lush. Dotted amongst this wash of green are bright yellow dandelions, and a delicate white that looks like a dusting of snow of the hawthorn bushes. The boxes are a little worn having faced the Welsh elements for years. The paint is peeling and faded, there are cobwebs under the bottom, the wood of the roof is splitting and bowing. But it is what is on the inside that counts. A small brown bullet shoots from Number 3; a short wait and a small brown flash returns, disappearing into the dark hole. Throughout the whole day both male and female dash back and forth.

Oakfield Terrace

Many birds will nest in boxes, blue tit, great tit, robin and given the right location even pied flycatchers and redstarts. In most cases you need to space the boxes out, so that each one is within one bird’s territory in order to avoid fights. There are however some species that really don’t mind, even prefer, being close together and will nest in colonies. House sparrows are one, although they prefer loose colonies rather than being one of top of the other but you need to provide options and Oakfield Terrace does just that.

A careful squint into the box reveals a tightly woven ball of grass within its confines, with a small hole near to the entrance. Even closer inspection reveals four rather fluffy chicks.

Checking the boxes 

House sparrows, a ubiquitous species that we seem to see everywhere, it feels like you cannot walk past a hedgerow, garden or house without hearing their characteristic cheeping. But this little bird, that always seems to be there, has under gone a dramatic decline in numbers, and the fight is on to understand why and to change their fortunes. Recent studies have shown that gardens are leading the fight back. Here in Wales we want to know where the birds that inhabit our garden move to; do they just stay within the confines of our garden or do they move to other gardens? Now sparrows learn quick, catch ‘em once and they ain’t gonna fall for the same trick again. Of course that means it is hard to get repeat information once you have ringed one. The solution? Colour rings. That way you can recognise individuals via the unique combination of colour rings on the leg without having to catch the bird again. So for the last few years we have been colour ringing the house sparrows in Garth, not only those caught free flying but all those raised in the nest boxes of Oakfield Terrace.

One of four colour ringed chicks

While the project is ongoing we have found that most of our house sparrows remain within the garden, with a few venturing a little further to the surrounding local area. And this kind of information is important when it comes to establishing how we conserve the population of this charming species. 

Larking Around

Only recently had the trees been felled, leaving a mosaic of sandy soil, mossy grass, patches of dark heather and tangles of twigs and branches. From the main road this seemingly barren landscape sloped up to the tall dark green conifer trees that surrounded the patch on three sides. While it may seem an extreme change this is the cycle of this forest where trees are planted and felled on a rotation. Add to that the process of returning areas to more natural grassland heath and more of such open areas can be found amongst the blocks of trees. For 100 years ago this landscape was totally different. The entire area was open with grass and heather heaths, open sandy areas, low intensity arable farming and abandoned fields. Rabbits in particular were farmed in large enclosed warrens. Following the First World War the Forestry Commission began the process of afforestation, planting hundreds of hectares of Scots and then Corsican pine to provide a reserve of timber for a country whose trees had been as ravaged by the demands of war as its people. Today the whole of Thetford Forest is a patchwork of pine plantations, broadleaved trees and heath land, and is managed not only for timber, but for recreation and wildlife.

Woodlark carrying food for its chicks

Such barren looking patches of clear fell and grassy heath provide important habitat for a number of scarce breeding birds, including the woodlark. The tufts of short grass, close proximity to bare soil and good high posts for singing, are all perfect for woodlarks to set up home during the summer.

Knowing an area is good for breeding woodlark, seeing a pair there with the male’s sweet song of melancholy notes which includes a lu-lu-lu, giving the bird part of its scientific name Lullula arborea, is one thing. Finding its nest is a whole different ball game, one of patience and knowledge. Even knowing there is a nest within a few square feet in front of you, it is still hard to see, such is the excellent cryptic nature of nest and chick.

A beautiful woodlark nest

But there nestled amongst the grassy stems is a tightly weaved nest, in which four greyish brown chicks are squeezed in. What a privilege to be allowed to approach and view such a nest, which is done under strict licence. Monitoring of this species has never been more important. Since the early 1980s the range and population of woodlark in the UK has actually increased following a severe decline, but it is still comparatively rare and its breeding range restricted. Forestry plantations form a key part of this increase, but interestingly in the Forestry areas of Norfolk and Suffolk numbers of woodlark are in decline. Understanding more about the movements, breeding success and habitat use of birds in such areas is contributing to maintaining and increasing woodlark numbers by feeding into management plans for the forest. To that end this, and other nests are being monitored from egg laying to fledging, and the chicks are being colour ringed to look at movements of birds and where they subsequently return to breed.

Feed me!

On returning these four chicks to their snug nest and stepping carefully away to a safe distance, we watch as both parent birds call with a soft ‘tlewee’ to each other, beaks full of recently foraged insects, before swooping in back to the nest. We turn to leave, happy birds, happy chicks, happy people. 

Catch of the Day

Dawn breaks over the cold beach at Great Yarmouth. The sun’s rays splintering between broken clouds, the lights of the sea front buildings twinkle in the remaining darkness that slowly fills with diffuse morning light. The sand shifts under foot as the group makes its way, laden with gear, to the tide line. Warm breath steaming in the cold air, slowly a large net is stretched out and then furled into a shallow trench in the sand. Canons are buried and the net attached. A long blue cable is wheeled out to a safe distance where a box with switches and buttons reminiscent of a space station sits in the sand. The group disperses to wait. Bait in the form of soaked bread is scattered into the catching area, with dry bits flung into the air in order to attract our quarry. Gulls. But not just any gulls, Mediterranean Gulls.

A beautiful adult Mediterranean Gull

Back in August 2012 a Wild Barley post called The Med in Norfolk discussed the sighting of colour ringed Mediterranean Gulls sighted from this very beach in Great Yarmouth. From such sightings we know that birds ringed in Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany regularly cross the North Sea and spend the winter on our shores. But not all birds on the beach are colour ringed. What about the others? Are they all coming from these countries or from other locations throughout Europe? Do all the birds wintering in Great Yarmouth return to the same places? Now a group of ringers, and birders who regularly come to Great Yarmouth to read the rings of gulls on the beach, are embarking on a new project in order to find out.

The morning progresses; the sea front comes to life with dog walkers and workers making their way to offices, shops, cafes and bars throughout the town which at this time of year is sleepy and quiet. The birds sit in groups away down the beach, occasionally one shows a brief interest in our offering. We wait, and wait. Catching birds in this way, using a canon to fire a net over the top of the birds is not undertaken lightly. Ringers undergo rigorous and lengthy training in order to obtain this licence.

Suddenly there is a loud ‘bang’ and without even looking up the team starts sprinting across the sand to the birds now trapped under the net. Legs pumping, straining against the sand, the runners arrive (yes definitely out of breath) at the net, preventing birds from escaping and starting to remove them from beneath the mesh.

The canon net fires over the group of gulls trapping them beneath © David Pelling

Each bird is bagged, and then ringed with a uniquely numbered metal ring as well as a plastic alpha-numeric colour ring. The birds are aged, their wings measured and they are weighed before being released back along the beach.

A success! The catch has 13 new Mediterranean Gulls with a variety of different aged birds; adults with their clean grey backs, brilliant white wings, deep red bill and legs and smudge of black around the head; a second year bird with remnants of black in the wing feathers; and first year birds, those that have been born this year, with brown feathers scattered amongst the grey of the wings and back.

The three ages of Mediterranean Gull;
first year, second year and adult (left to right) © David Pelling

In addition to these there are three birds with rings on already, all of which herald from Belgium.

Once all the birds are processed and released, the net is set again, and after a cup of steaming hot chocolate to warm the cockles and the fingers, the wait begins again in the hope of a second catch. Almost at the point of accepting one catch for the day, the net is once again fired and once again the team races across the sand to collect the birds. A smaller catch this time, but still another two Mediterranean Gulls ringed and added to the total for this, the projects inaugural catch. 

A Birthday Chat

The rolling downland of Salisbury Plain stretched to the horizon. Tall stalks of grass, their yellowing heads bending over, ripple in the faintest of breezes. Scattered amongst the yellow greens are dark green hawthorn bushes and the bright reds, blues, purples and yellows of wild flowers. Butterflies skip from one to another. Small skippers, marbled whites, ringlets, meadow browns, small tortoiseshells and even a fritillary pause for seconds at each before flittering away.

The sun blazes, its heat pounds down on the grass and tracks. Away from the public roads, tanks and 4x4s kick up plumes of dust from the grey gravel tracks that meander through the landscape. Perched on the tops of the bushes, a dead branch or marker post sits the bird we are searching for. The whinchat. The size of a robin, with a striking white stripe above the eye, streaky brown back and a beautiful washed out, pale orange breast. The whinchat is a summer visitor, mainly to our heaths and moorland, spending the winter in southern Africa.

A beautiful female whinchat

Between 1995 and 2008 the numbers of whinchats more than halved in Britain, all but disappearing from central and eastern England. It is likely that factors in both their wintering grounds, migration routes and breeding areas are playing a role in this decline. Having escaped the intensification of farming practices following World War II, Salisbury Plain remains a haven for whinchats and provides a perfect opportunity to study their habitat choices and nesting success. By colour ringing individuals the aim is to also establish whether fewer adults are returning from Africa each year.

Nest of colour ringed whinchat chicks

First task today was to colour ring a brood of six chicks. Next was to try and catch a rather elusive adult female who so far had avoided capture. Colour ringing of both adults from a nest site is key to understanding which birds are nesting where, and with whom, as well as establishing whether birds are returning. 

Today we were lucky. Strategic placement of our traps around the nest, focusing on favoured perching posts, ended up with the elusive female caught, ringed and colour ringed… Here is hoping that the small part we played today will help yield results that will disentangle the factors affecting whinchat populations and provide solutions to help them recover.

Not a bad way to spend the last day of your twenties….

Happy Birthday to me!