Barn Owl Leftovers

After too many years I finally got to do something I had read about as a kid. Growing up in the industrial town of Widnes my chances of seeing a barn owl were pretty limited, but this year I had the pleasure of watching Rich's owls raise a brood (and possibly a second - he thinks at least one made it). I know at least one owl is still around because there is a perch it uses, where pellets can be found.
I'll admit, from a distance they look like something else, but close up you can see the fur and small bones.
A soak in water to loosen it up (gets a bit smelly then) and then pick it apart. I didn't have any tweezers, but I managed with a couple of watchmakers screwdrivers to dissect out some bones from at least 3 rodents (from 3 pellets, I hasten to add), and artfully laid them out on some slate!

Paparazzi Birding

On Saturday 28th November a post on the Gloster Birder (sic) website announced a young Pomarine skua at Beachley, a couple of miles along the Severn. On the 29th it rained almost constantly, and I decided not to go and see. I'm never over comfortable when the birds are surrounded by people, and the light was shocking. And it would probably have gone, wouldn't it?
Over the next week I began to get more regretful, as the bird was still there. In summer I'd have got up early and headed down before work, but at present my journeys to and from work are completed in the dark. Come Friday night and the bird was still there. And the sun was promised - at least for periods - the next day.
So there I was down below the bridge, just as the sun cleared the low cloud. And there, under water was the reason the bird was still around - a very 'distressed' sheep - sort of end-stage Turner prize if you know what I mean. It seemed to be mainly bones and fleece, with little to tempt a hungry skua. No bird, submerged food, and half a dozen of us thinking we'd blown it, as an hour or more drifted by.
The keen ones took to the river ..........
(OK that was a joke, not even birders go that far ............. do they?).
Then the message came that it was along the bank, on the other side of the reedbeds.
Anyway, there followed plenty of opportunity to watch a remarkably unphased, and well fed(not meaning to be rude, but there must be some goodness in that mutton), bird, preening,
watching (and being watched - see why I feel a bit like a paparazzo?),
doing some sort of strange stretch,
and finally having a feed.
(I'd swear it was licking it's lips in the shot below)

My flight shots didn't work out really, although you can just about see the streamers,but there were some nice poses on the carcass, including a couple with my new compact camera (good zoom lens of about 300mm). I also took some video with the little gem which can be seen on my Vimeo site - see links. Bit distant, but you can see the enthusiastic way the bird went about feeding.
So there we are, worth the wait. And finally, courtesy of Birds Britannica, did you know that the real name is, or rather was, pomatorhine skua (pomato lid, rhinos nosed) after the thin plates overlying the base of the bill. You can just about see them on this crop

but if you go to the web album HERE you'll get much better views.

Waiting for the light

I'm glad to see the back of November. A dull, dull and pretty wet month where I was reduced to posting pictures of chaffinches on a birdtable. Last weekend there was a promise of some light between the showers so I headed for Slimbridge. If you are a member you can get in to some parts early, and I was pleased to find the one hide where you can get near the birds was empty. Not that I'm anti-social, but the punters at Slimbridge can be surprisingly noisy. Last time I was there 2 people (yeah. I'll say it - 2 women) had the water rail twitching when they were still 15 yards from the hide, and the volume didn't seem to drop as they came through the door. I know birds can tolerate noise, but there are limits. And they had all the kit - good coats, pricey bins, megaphones ...............
Anyway, there was some sunshine between the clouds, and some birds played ball. As usual the tufties dominated the space near the hide, mostly snoozing, but occasionally giving a sly wink with that lovely golden eye.
The pochards were also about, and if you can find one preening and keep waiting eventually it will have a post-preen flap.
Maddeningly, the shoveller kept it's distance - will I ever get close to one?
But it's the chance to catch birds flying in that makes the fun. The greylags kicked up a spray feet in front of themselves, before settling down and trying to swallow a ball of food that was clearly over-ambitious. Or just plain greedy.
The Canada geese went in for some touching wingtip Red Arrows display flying.
A buzzard flew past, mobbed by crows, and upset the lapwings into flight.
But it was the Bewick's swan that was the star of the show. Looking at the train of pictures I felt I could print them off, hold them in a pile, and then flick through and make them look like they were flying.
Wandering home I called in at the Rushy, to find a shellduck shining
and my favourite (beautiful bird) the pintail doing a bit of posing and then having a damn good splash,

a post-preen flap

and finally a good laugh about it all.

As always better views on the web albums HERE

- look in latest pictures.

....... And blow the birds about the sky

Well that was one windy weekend. The sun on Sunday was a bonus, and I headed over to Rich's field to see what I could find. It seems at least one of the barn owls has survived, although it was well tucked up by the time I got there. I could see some finch flocks coming down to the sacrificial crops, but they were as flighty as most finch flocks are, and I was never going to get close enough for photos. I decided to try putting up the hide near a small feeding area he has set up where I could hopefully catch birds in the crop, but if not, on the table.
Perhaps unsurprisingly the finches were twitchy and at first even the chaffinches stayed in the tree. In the Forest I have found the first finch down to food is usually a female chaffinch, but here it was a male, on, I think, quinoa - or possibly millet. Sadly the best of the crops at are the far side so the shot is a bit distant, and the angle meant the fencing couldn't be blurred out.
In the end it was only the chaffinches that came to the table, but they did provide good views in the morning sunshine, and reminded me of the full range of colours present in the male bird. I love the way they pick up a sunflowers seed and rotate it with their tongue, splitting off the shell (and all with no hands!).
I'm going to leave up some form of hide so they get used to it as he's had linnet and siskin recently. Probably needs a few 'rustic' perches popping in - never was over keen on snapping birds on feeders.

As always the pics look better here on the web album

Running rail, Stepping goose

I've been getting post withdrawal, but you have to have something to post. Slimbridge is always a good bet when the late autumn quiet patch arrives, so after an unsuccessful dawn visit to see if there was any sign of the late barn owl brood at Rich's (no sign - hope they have made it), I headed over the bridge and up to the duckponds.
A water rail had been seen quite regularly at the Robbie Garnet hide, but after initially showing quite well I had heard from Chris G that it was quite skittish. True enough, it sneaked out from the reeds, broke into a surprisingly quick run and flew across the gap to the safety of the next patch of reeds. However being the top class wildlife photographer am I caught this superb image.

Aren't you jealous - hand and eye in harmony?!
A rail often is seen under the feeders in the winter, but the only real interest was the jackdaw that had worked out the peanut feeder and posed quite nicely.

A rather distant snipe showed quite well in the sun, enabling a heavy crop of a prolonged yawn - you really need to look at the web album to see it clearly.

Otherwise we had a goose goose-stepping,

a moorhen enjoying the sunshine

and a few of my favourite duck, the pintail - you must admit he's gorgeous.

I always have a quick look at the captives and had a nice view of this goosander, showing well the 'teeth' that give rise to the name of sawbill. Again you'll need to look at the web album to see this clearly.
On the way home I took the short detour down our little valley to see if any winter thrushes were around and sure enough there were a couple in the grumpy farmer's field. Taking my life in my hands I drove down the farm track and got near enough for my best yet fieldfare shot. That doesn't mean much, mind, but creeping ever closer to an accpetable shot. And best of all I escaped without having to endure any grumpiness. (He's alright really, just a bit glass half empty in personality which isn't ideal when you run a farm with a public footpath which you don't want people to use)

I also snapped this pipit, which I presume is meadow, although I always thought they had pink legs.

As ever better quality images in the web albums HERE

Simon says ..........

When I read that last weeks Autumnwatch programme was going to feature Simon King in the Forest of Dean, I thought OK he'll be looking at the fallow deer and my dismal attempts at catching them on camera will be fully exposed. But ..... he too discussed the difficulties posed by the density of the natural forest. I felt better.
I decided last weekend would be my last chance of trying for some action shots of the bucks, as this coming weekend the Forest is out of bounds for me. So I went back to my recent patch and all was silent apart from the many squirrels delicately picking up the spiky sweet chestnut cases. Then I heard grunting from a few hundred yards up the track. The buck sounded near, so I edged over a hillock to see a buck and half a dozen does. He was fired up, pacing around his little harem, although there was no sight or sound of a challenger. I was peering through a mass of twiggy branches, so over the next 5-10 minutes I worked my way down the side of the hillock, sliding unstoppably but ever so slowly at one stage, just keeping it slow enough to avoid spooking anything and get to a fallen branch for a bit of cover. Although some of the action was hidden by the hill to my left, after a few minutes he appeared giving nearly clear views. Great for watching, but still a bit dark and cluttered for pictures.

I spent about 20-25 minutes watching, and sometimes I felt, being watched, but the deer were never spooked, so I was obviously well enough hidden in my action man outfit. Again these shots are selected because the does were looking my way, not because they were constantly looking at me. Most of the time they were grazing, making little whinnying sounds to the buck. The range of colour forms can be clearly seen.
The light was gradually coming when a bizarre combination of events brought the session to an end. There was a sudden flapping of wings as several woodpigeon hit the air and a female goshawk shot through, and down to the ground. Although it wasn't that near, the deer were spooked, all pricked ears and tails. It seemed every tree had a squirrel in it making those weird, high pitched alarm calls. Then almost immediately a group of cyclists went past on a nearby track, chatting loudly. And suddenly the deer were gone.
I waited a while, but there was no sign of them coming back and I decided that even if they did I didn't want to disturb them again. Still, undoubtedly my best morning's deer watching. As for a decent photo? There's always next year.

"Steam breaking on his brow ...."

Okay, it would be an exaggeration to say that the earth shook, but the crashing left me in no doubt that I had either finally succeeded in getting near to the rutting fallow bucks or stumbled into a kendo tournament. But let's not get ahead of ourselves ...................



Two years ago I spent a really uncomfortable morning trying to get near the grunting, rutting fallow deer bucks in the Forest of Dean, with little to show for it other than aching limbs and a lot of scratches. This year a few more free weekends meant I had the chance to try again to learn ways to get near the deer and maybe get some shots.

I started at Woorgreens where I went last time. The forest had grown even more impenetrable this time, but I could hear the odd grunt, and for a second I thought I had struck it lucky when I glimpsed two deer heads down and head-on. Sadly when they stood up it turned out to be two teenagers having a practice.





I could hear some bucks in the distance, so I headed off to try and track them down, getting lost in the process. Well not really lost, I just wasn't quite sure where I was. I knew the north south bit, but my east west turned out to be somewhat (quite a big somewhat) off the mark! However I did find some more fallow deer, and resolved to return to my new location the following weekend.
Unlike the parkland so often used to snap fallow deer, the Forest is a bit of a jungle with most of the action taking place amongst a tangle of trees. The high quality shots that follow show my point.
That said day 2 left me with some further ideas about where to try and catch the deer as they came along the well used paths (and my closest ever sighting of some boar)
Day 3 started well. I watched my first buck grunting in some relatively open forest, but as I was crawling nearer a doe I had missed over to my left (every time it's a doe!) barked and they all drifted away. Shortly afterwards I could hear some more bucks, and then the locking of antlers, just around the corner. Then .................... as I came round the corner a small group of does were standing on the path. I froze, and for once they didn't take me in.

I slowly got down into a crouch. Seconds later a buck shot across the path, head back, antlers parallel with his spine in the classic vanquished stag pose I've seen so often on Autumnwatch. He was so quick I didn't fire a single shot, but I waited and after about 30 seconds the victor stepped out, still looking a bit excited undercarriage-wise. All that testosterone, or whatever deer have, I guess.

He was evidently exhausted, and stopped on the path for about 6 minutes. Tongue hanging out, his heaving breath created a cloud in the cool morning air. Although he showed no sign of alarm I think he knew full well I was there. The pictures are a bit misleading as he looked in the other direction as often as he looked at me, but when he had recovered, and just before he stepped back into the woods, he did take a few steps down the track for a slightly closer look.
The rest of the morning was a bit of a bust photography-wise although I got some good views of grunting bucks and their entourage through the trees. A one stage a doe came running straight for me swerving only at the last minute, feet away, ears pricked, head up, wild eyes, cocked tail. Another followed, but then morphed into a muzzled lurcher which turned when it saw me and headed back into the trees. Not much chance of pictures up that way then.
Hopefully I'll get at least one more morning this year, but at least I got something in focus and in the open.
Handholding and crouching isn't ideal, but the good old Canon image stabilisation worked wonders, and if not pin sharp the shots are good record shots. Better sized and quality versions can be seen HERE - look in the latest pictures album and use the slideshow for best viewing.