Snor

Snor at Lakenheath; a fine photo by Jay Ward, who clearly saw it better than Dave, or me.

The Dutch name for the Savi’s Warbler is Snor.  At Lakenheath Fen this morning I discovered why.  It must be due to the fact that this damn-difficult-to-see-bird soon had rows of elderly birders falling asleep as they patiently wait in line.

Actually the Google translation service tells us that Snor = v. whir, whirr, drone, hum, purr, whizz, whiz, buzz, which probably has some connection to the strange noise emanating from the reeds just in front of us before a dark shape scuttled through the reeds. 

“Wake up Dave, I think I’ve seen it” said the guy next to me to his mate.

“Are you sure?” 

“No.” 

“Snor.”

Luckily I’m a strange sort of birder that gets as much joy from looking at what the bird was stood on as the bird itself.  Very handy when the actual thing has gone.  I’ve stood on many a spot that many a Snor has landed on and on each occasion thinking

“Why here?”

And each time the dim light bulb up top gets brighter.  Each spot looks exactly the same!

Savi’s Warblers prefer large, tall and dense reedbeds, generally 10+ years old, with a well-developed, often dense, under-storey of old stems, leaves etc, often of sedge or other non-reed vegetation through which these birds walk, climb and hop.   They like shallow water that does not flood the dense understorey but they do need water.  Scattered willows are optimal but not essential.  This is an ‘internal’ reedbed bird, it prefers extensive stands of vegetation where ‘edgey’ structure is not essential.  They don’t like reedbed management.  Their requirements appear to be quite specialised and any old reedbed won’t do.  I wandered off happy to have seen a bit of vegetation well, along with a crap view of a brown blob.  Adding crap views of Golden Oriole, Bittern and Crane made me very happy indeed.

Points of view

From the sublime to the ridiculous, or is it the other way around?

Do we need a clearer view about the design of bird hides on nature reserves?   Recently I spent a couple of days with Tormod Amundsen and Elin Taranger, architects and birders from Vardo in Norway. Their account of the visit is here.  Biotope is Norways first and only architectural office with special expertise on birds and birding.  They design bird hides, shelters, nature trails, outdoor amphitheatres and more.   We looked around Bowers Marsh, the soon-to-be-opened next part of the RSPB South Essex Reserve, and considered what sort of hides would be appropriate.

After many years of dominance by the wooden box, with its narrow viewing flaps and dark corners, we are now seeing grander designs with expanses of glass and metal.   However, these new hides seem to be liked and loathed in equal quantities. Many of the new hides are open, airey structures that are liked by groups, families and newcomers to reserves.   And perhaps that is what is disliked by others; watch a birder enter a hide and they will head for the nearest dark corner to hide away in.  There is a clue in the name ‘hide’.

It is usually not that the new hide provides worse views of wildlife, often quite the reverse, but something gets under the skin of these hide-haters.  However many of these new hides are as much architectural statement as state of the art viewing, and critically, they are not designed by the people who use them.

It seems that we need a variety of different types of ‘hide’ that perform different functions.  Hides could provide medium or long distance views, high views, low views, close views, complex views, and above all, something to view.  There could be big hides, small hides, photographic hides and even mobile hides.  You can’t fit everyone in the same box.  Form should follow function.   And this is where Tormod and Elin come in.  We hope to be working with them some more in the future.

Out for a whipping this week

Spotted Crakes have been appearing at some of their usual haunts over the last week or so, with the first birds arriving towards the end of April.  Often the only indication of their presence is the far-carrying nocturnal ‘whipping’ song of the male. Spotted Crakes return earlier in spring than perhaps many people expect.  In the Mediterranean countries, the peak of passage is in late March and in the Netherlands, they can be present and singing from the first week of April if the weather is right.  Birds singing later in spring (May/June) may be arriving from breeding areas elsewhere in Europe.

Spotted Crakes breed on lowland fen-like or marshy wetland habitats with shallow fresh water interspersed with extensive stands of low plant cover, rich in invertebrates.  They favour areas of sedge, rush, grass and reed with 10-20 cm of water over up to half of their territory. Lightly managed areas, either by occasional cutting or grazing (outside the breeding season) are preferred as they maintain an open-structured vegetation.  On one reserve, where occupied areas were ‘protected’ by removing all grazing, such areas were subsequently deserted, presumably as the vegetation became too dense.

Annual occupancy of sites and singing behaviour are still poorly understood in the Spotted Crake.  Certainly there seems to be considerable annual variation in numbers at regular sites, with some evidence that this is at least partly related to site condition, particularly water levels.   Checking out a couple of regular sites this week, conditions looked poor with very low water levels.  The annual recorded total of 10-30 singing birds is probably an under-estimate.  So if you know a suitably wet marshy site, get out over the next week or so and listen from sunset until past midnight, ideally on a warm, dry and calm night.    Go on, get out for a whipping.

Pics above - Spotted Crake feeding in typical shallow water, marshy habitat. Lower: another regular site, but too dry this year.

Gas gun starts spring sprint

 

After a long cold late winter, spring finally arrived in a wave of migrants, with interesting reports of breeding birds now arriving thick and fast.  Spring also usually means a flurry of site visits for the Grumpy Ecologist and this year has been no different; from East Anglia to the Insh Marshes and across to Wales.   The Nene Washes are always a highlight in the spring.  Reports of a gas gun keeping Cambridgeshire residents awake at night were tracked down to an over enthusiastic booming Bittern in a fenland drain.  The breeding success of waders on the washes has been poor for the past three years, due variously to drought or flood.  Fingers are crossed for a good breeding season this year.  The cold and wet winter has left many wet grasslands in good condition; short swards with a lack of winter growth and brimming pools and ditches.

The trip to the Nene provided evidence of the seasonal changeover.  While 800 islandica Black-tailed Godwits huddled together around the pools, 30+ pairs of limosa noisily ‘wickered’ and chased around the fields.  Snipe chipped and drummed over a feeding flock of Dunlin, Ruff and Ringed Plover. Garganey zipped past the last few Whooper Swans.

Over at Ynys-hir, an early morning visit coincided with an arrival of Wood Warblers, trilling through the woodlands.  Pied Flycatchers and Redstarts were already in good numbers. All three species, typical of these West Atlantic Oakwoods, were seen well from the Ynys-hir canopy hide but the highlight was a Goshawk gliding and twisting through the still bare trees with its entourage of squawking crows marking its passage.  Wood Warblers have declined by 60% in a little over a decade (BBS data), and over a longer period have disappeared from many eastern and southern haunts, yet the reason for this decline is still unclear.  Potential causes include changes in woodland structure, increased predation and a phenological mis-match between egg hatch and the peak of caterpillar emergence. Studies in Wales have failed to point the finger at any of these and indeed have shown that the timing of Wood Warbler breeding can track the annual variation in caterpillar emergence.  Perhaps the answer lies in Africa.

At last

White Stork at Sawbridgeworth.

Not one of the dozens of White Storks I saw on Spanish lamp posts, roofs and pylons last weekend made me cast more than a cursory glance.  However, one seen on a lamp post in Sawbridgeworth by Mike Harris made me move a bit faster. A county ‘bogey bird’ for me was about to fall.  Most obligingly, it flew over the car as I arrived at Pishiobury, disappeared down over Harlow for 10 minutes or so, before re-appearing overhead again, heading north this time.

Apparently only 16 birds have previously managed to sneak past the county committee, mostly in the last decade. Ten of these have turned up between March and May, with the bulk in April, also the peak time for records nationally.  That's good enough for me and my county list increases to 266.  

Come schnell and high water

'Er indoors said she enjoyed last year’s trip down to Seville and Donana; must be the Lynx effect.  So a return trip was in order. Aha, a chance to check out Baillon's Crake habitat and gauge possibilities of northward movement this year.

Arriving at El Rocio on the western edge of the Donana National Park, it was clear that this was no drought year: it was wet, very wet.  Water levels were very high.  A heavy storm forced us into the local restaurant to debate the finer qualities of Coquinas verses Almejas, accompanied by some fried anchovies, and a little octopus of course.  With full bellies and the rain easing, we ventured out to look over the lagoon.  At the tail end of the storm, Sand Martins and Swallows were moving in numbers. An estimated 10,000 passed through over the next hour, the naked eye view appearing as a mass of midges swarming over the water and all moving northwards with purpose.  Slowly the sun broke through and temperatures rose.  The soft rolling ‘prruup’ noises from above broke into the consciousness as dozens of Bee-eaters streamed through.  Now concentrating upwards, Black Kites, Booted Eagles and Red-rumped Swallows dotted the sky in a steady movement. The odd Monty’s and Purple Heron added interest.  Warm sun on the bones and birds on the move; what could be better?

Early next morning we were out looking around the marshes; they were wet.  Spotted Crakes, Baillon’s Crake and Water Rails crept around the flooded swamps.  Not much chance of a major northward push of Baillon’s this year.  In last year’s drought conditions, Baillon’s, Stilts and Glossy Ibis all moved northwards searching for better conditions.  It also delayed the onward passage of Spoonbills due to poor feeding.  No such problems this year.  Feeding groups of Spoonbills, several colour-ringed, were swishing energetically, belly-deep in water and frequently flicking up and gulping down small fish.

There were many birders around and most seemed to be Germans. A beckoning "Come, schnell" provided me with close views of Purple Gallinule.  Savi’s reeled from every swampy hollow, Subalpine Warblers disappeared around every patch of scrub and Woodchats dotted the tops of bushes.  Nightingales sang and Redstarts flitted.  As lunch time approached, the baby lamb chops needed some consideration (oh the flavour!) and after several glasses of rioja, we were surprised to see a Lynx run right through the restaurant.

Below - Lynx in pine wood

Oil platform

A day out this week on the Essex coast at Wallasea with colleagues from Buglife looking for Oil Beetles.  As luck would have it, we hit a warm sunny morning,  with singing Corn Buntings everywhere.  And plenty of the target species; Black Oil Beetles Meloe proscarabaeus, along the seawall, mostly doing what Oil Beetles need to do in the spring..  The name derives from their habit of releasing oily droplets from their joints when disturbed; this contains cantharidin, a chemical apparently causing blistering of the skin and painful swelling.

The life cycle is fascinating.  The female beetle lays up to 1,000 eggs in burrows close to the burrows of mining bees. The larvae, known as triungulins, climb up into flowers and wait for a passing bee collecting pollen.  They then hitch a lift on the bee back to the bee’s nest where they munch their way through the bee’s eggs and pollen supplies.  The adult beetles emerge from the bee burrows after overwintering.  More on the Buglife website here.