Look who's 'ear...

Wheat right 'ear, while I get the camera.
A useless photo of a Northern Wheatear (Oenanthe oenanthe) Seaford Head, E Sussex, 18/3/12

And another

They're back!

I don't know if it's because I recently turned 30, but I've noticed myself beginning a worrying number sentences along the lines of "It seems like it was just last week that I (did that/went there/etc)..." Such is life. Anyway, it DOES seem like it was just last week that outgoing wheatears were popping all over the place here. But in reality it was 5 months ago. What have YOU done in that time? I bet you haven't flown all the way to Sub-Saharan Africa and back.

I was out on Saturday morning, checking my new BBS square that I'm taking on from an elderly local gent. It's predominantly flat, intensively managed, arable land but given it's slight elavation I had a little inkling in the back of my mind that it might be good for a passage Wheatear or two. Three minutes later...bingo. 50 yards ahead, on the rough farm track, was a fine male bird. The dark mask and wing panel, the 'proud', alert posture - unmistakeable. It wearily clocked my approach and skipped off into the verge, flashing its white rump, before popping up again on a pile of rubble further ahead. 17th March: First Wheatear of the year - it's always a nice moment. Swallows take the glory, but me? Dammit, I'm all about the "White arses". (Disclaimer - this is apparently where the english name 'Wheat-ear ' comes from, that's all I'm talking about)

Wikipedia fun fact of the day: the latin name (Oenanthe) is derived from the greek for 'ainos' (wine) and 'anthos' (flower). Evidently ancient greeks noticed the birds arrived as the spring grapevines blossomed. Cute, but I prefer the english version.

Down on the south coast yesterday, visiting my Grandma, I took a quick detour to Seaford Head. I knew there had to be a Wheatear or two up there. Again, I'd barely reached the top when I set eyes on one. Scanning the rough, tussocky grassland between the cliff edge and the golf course, there it was. Another striking male bird: fresh from a flight across the channel, across Europe, across the Med, across North Africa, across the Sahara, across the Sub-Saharan plains. The migratory instincts of birds such as these never fail to amaze me. Instinct is one thing, ability is another.