Arctic arrivals at Cliffe

Mud: they love it, you love it. Cliffe Pools, 21/7/13

Despite earning some unfortunate tshirt tan lines on a sweltering walk round Cliffe yesterday, there were hints of cooler climes with a smattering of new arrivals from their northern breeding grounds. A nice summer plumaged Knot bobbing amongst the common terns on islands at the back of Conoco had me thinking Curlew Sandpiper for a moment but a better look confirmed otherwise. I like this time of year, having to get wader brain on again, ready for those birds in summer dress or moult, usually more conspicuous here in their muted tones of winter.

On Flamingo beach a good flock of 16 Whimbrel roosted amidst the sea of Shelduck that have been busy at Cliffe this season. Over the Thames Viewpoint, five juveniles took one of their first trips out, accompanied by an adult. The river was flat calm, seemingly stuck to the sky, with a faint easterly as comforting as a stranger's hot breath on your neck on a rush-hour tube.

Down the back track two Yellow wagtails flew over and instantly disappeared into the coarse, bleached rough of the coastguard paddocks. Two Pied wagtails sparred energetically. I love this part of the reserve, the view is one of Hoo's best, several miles of marshes and grassland stretching east, pocked with livestock, ditches and forgotten barns, parched in this heat but still buzzing:

View east from Cliffe Pools, 21/7/13

If Boris and those other soulless crones had their way, everything in the photo above, bar a thin sliver in the foreground, would be tarmac and fences.

Seven Oystercatchers on the jetty, two adult Common gulls looked hot.

I spent a while by Black Barns 1 & 2 but despite some muddy fringes appearing, the levels on the pools are still too high for most waders. A handful of hazy shapes on 4 could be picked out by squinting and refocusing; one or two Greenshank among godwits and lapwings. One or two eclipse Shoveler lurked in the reeds too and a healthy brood of Tufted ducks formed a queue behind their parents. In the top corner of Radar, a gathering of 12 roosting Greenshank were punctuated by a single small wader which turned out to be a nice summer Sanderling. I can't remember the last time I saw one so neat. A Green Sandpiper flew over and several Little egrets probed and preened in the shallows - making it look like a good day to be an egret.

Round at the Radar viewpoint I bumped into a birder who put me onto a Turnstone, another bird I associate more with winter on the estuary than anything. A large flock of brick-red Black-tailed godwits roosted on one the main causeway, alongside Redshank, Lapwing, Greylag geese and more Greenshank. As an annoying microlight flew low over the reserve, the whole lot pitched up and wheeled about, revealing the huge, previously hidden flock of Avocet behind. With the numbers present it was like an unseasonal snowstorm had descended, only to melt away in a flash.

The final wader action came in the form of several Dunlin on Radar, while a check along the rear of the causeway from the Saxon Shore Way eventually turned up a Spotted Redshank. This one wasn't quite suited up so was perhaps a non-breeder, still, a nice looking bird. A pretty good haul, things are hotting up...

Six-spot Burnet on Ragwort

Comma on brambles

No Estuary Airport

Too hot 2 blog

So I'm just gonna catch some rays...

From the best office window we have, at the Centre for Wildlife Gardening, Peckham.

Nightjaaaaaar! 3/6/13

Some footage of a churring male Nightjar in NW Kent on Monday evening:

I've made several trips this week with this species in mind. It was fantastic to track this individual down at a site I've heard has been less productive in recent years. It took some patience to find the spot but on my second visit I'd worked it out and spent an hour watching and listening to one of our most unusual and elusive migrant birds.

At first there was just the sound, that unmistakeable loud chuurrring cutting though the trees, then...silence. But soon enough, from my position at the edge of a clearing of a commercial forestry site, a dark shape, bolted into a nearby tree and the sound resumed. It perched in the open for a while on a dead branch, sometimes swooping off to catch a moth or some other nocturnal insect with a rapid movement of long, pointed wings. Several times it flew off and began again elsewhere but it came back on its loop to its favoured branch in a blink a you'd miss it fashion.

Being largely crepuscular (I love that word), this bird occupies an odd fragment of the day, the hours as dusk descends and dawn breaks, often the hollow between. Like clockwork, each night this bird began churring at around 9.35pm and carried on until 10.10pm when it paused. I even tried the 'hankerchief' trick but only succeeded in cracking myself up. Those superb early views soon became silhouettes, which soon became just whirring noises in a still night.

It's not too often I find myself in the woods after dark, maybe I should do it more often. Here there was a chance to admire other secretive species too - a roding Woodcock squeaking overhead and bats along the woodland edge. Even little things grabbed my attention, like the trees creaking and a Robin's half-song that pierced it all.

A stirring experience and an amazing bird, one of the highlights of the year so far.

Active forestry work helps create Nightjar habitat like this: large clearings with a mix of young-growth scrub, bare areas and  mature trees

Pines at dusk

Nightjar (Caprimulgus europaeus), Kent, June 2013

Dusky Thrush and a Brecks blitz...

Ok, you probably know the deal by now - news went out late on Friday that a Dusky Thrush had been found in Margate Cemetery, the first twitchable individual since 1703 or something. I did a double take when the news buzzed through on my phone early on Saturday morning and lay there for a moment unthinking...until I realised what I should be doing. Arriving in Margate just before 8am, there was already a decent crowd of 70 odd staring rapturously at an ornamental pine in the middle of the cemetery and BAM...there she was - a female Dusky Thrush perched at the top. Incredible. I think the bloke who piled in behind me summed it up best, "f**k (gasps)...F**K!" A minute or two later, the bird flew down into cover between the headstones and continued to show but from denser trees and scrub. After another half or so of shifting positions I was happy with my lot and left it to the ever increasing hordes, of which there were loads by then.

No doubt much debate about the birds' make up will follow but, never having encountered one before, I noted that it looked slightly 'thrushier' in its general jizz compared to a Redwing and more washed out than any pictures I'd seen before. The excellent views showed up the breast band/streaking and some well defined wing tracts. What a score it was by a local patcher, I reckon he did well to find the bird, confirm its ID with help and then stand back to watch the mayhem unfold. And I wonder what the bird makes of Margate, it's a bloody long way from the forests of eastern Asia.

Dusky Thrush record shot, Margate Cemetery, Kent, 18/5/13

After the Thrush I did what everyone else there did and headed along the coast to Reculver to have a look for the Montagu's Harrier that had been hanging around the oyster farm for a couple of days. Word was it was showing well, which happily turned out to be a considerable understatement as the bird drifted up and down the old sea wall near to where I stood, I barely ever get views that good of Marsh Harrier. Feeling pretty chuffed with things I carried on along the wall over the fields to see what else was about. With clouds of insects in the air, I was half thinking about the male Red-backed Shrike that had been present the day before and how good conditions were for it when not more than 50m further I watched as two linnets flicked into a hawthorn bush, on top of which perched a...Red-backed Shrike! Jeez. What a bird and what a morning.

Drifting homewards, I detoured off just before Gravesend and after a fairly massive walk round Shorne Marshes, managed to scope out the Cattle Egret amongst the livestock. True, it was still about half a mile away but I had to earn at least one tick that day. A couple of Common terns and a nice male Wheatear along the sea wall was the icing on an epic bird-shaped cake.

Following my highly original jaunt on Saturday, yesterday I headed up to Suffolk, mostly with the Red-footed Falcon that's found Lakeheath Fen to its liking in mind. Typical of a hot May weekend, the Lakenheath car park was a mass of buses and bumbags but I managed to shuffle along to the New Fen viewpoint where sizeable crowd was gathered. Oddly, the majority seemed more interested in pointing an 8ft long camera lens at anything with wings than the falcon and more than once I overheard one of the MANY hobbies dashing by being passed off as the red-foot, followed by clickclickclick, but whatever. Pretty soon the Red-footed Falcon did turn up and it put on a blinding show right in front of us. In fact when it drifted off twenty minutes later, there was a distinct sigh from the crowd, much like when the credits roll at the end  of a decent movie and reality resumes. Nice. Point and click, some for the scrap book:

Red-footed Falcon (m) (Falco vespertinus) - a really smart bird,  Lakenheath Fen, 19/5/13

Following up the Red-foot with a majestic Common Crane that flew past Joist Fen, several reeling Grasshopper warblers and a Bittern that passed so close I couldn't focus my bins in time, it was an excellent few hours in the Suffolk sunshine. Half an hour with the Weeting Heath Stone Curlews, Spurs put in their rightful place and it was a very happy drive home.

For a weekend that began in a cemetery, it sure was one to remember.

A Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus) in the Lakenheath woodland (digiscoped)

Orange-tip butterfly (m)

RSPB Lakenheath Fen