Week 48: Wintering Chiffchaff & Buntings in the Reed Bed

Buntings in the Reeds

Just five days until Christmas! I feel as though I should be in a state of Yuletide hysteria and sporting inadvertent smatterings of glitter accidentally acquired from cheap Christmas cards. Actually, I’m marvelling at how the year has flown by and that it won’t be long before the Oak and I part company. However, this isn’t the time for reflections. I shall save those for the new year, once the project has finished.

At the start of the week, when temperatures were only just above freezing, I walked both the Hemel moors and the Bovingdon Brickworks site. I was struck by the quiet, cold, stillness. The Brickworks in particular were largely devoid of bird song or movement, there was little breeze and no noticeable insect life. But, all around is potential and promise, with fresh new buds formed on otherwise bare, leafless trees.

On Monday, I wrapped up warm and went Bunting Hunting. Dan Forder had found a couple of Reed Buntings (Emberiza schoeniclus) flitting about near Old Fishery Lane and I was keen to include them in this year’s project. I got lucky and discovered the pair loitering in the tiny reed bed beside Fishery Moor.  Unfortunately, they were up and off to the Gadespring cress beds before I could say "my toes are cold and I have a hankering for a hot mince pie". One of the birds is obviously the ringed male, photographed by Dan last week. The other is either an unusually dark-headed female or is in fact another male. I didn’t get a good look. Anyway, they were lovely to see, especially in their typical habitat, a reed bed (not something we have a great deal of in Hemel Hempstead!)

Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita), feeding on nettle seeds

The south-facing hedgerow, running along the south side of the Bulbourne (as it passes through Fishery Moor and Station Moor), is one place I can guarantee at least 12 species of common birds. It is something of a winter refuge and is particularly lively at the moment. There’s plenty of shelter from chilling winds and, when the sun is shining, birds push through to the outer-most branches and sit or preen in the available warmth.

One not so common species at this time of year, is the Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita). Many (sensible) UK breeding birds migrate south to the Mediterranean and West Africa. Some Scandinavian, mainland European and even Siberian birds migrate from their breeding grounds to winter in Britain. And so, during the coldest months in the UK, there is this sparse population of multinational Chiffchaffs, of varying sub-species, and from a variety of breeding grounds. It made my morning this week when, along the Bulbourne hedgerow, I came across one of these little birds, intently feeding on Common Nettle seeds. I’m no expert in determining sub-species/race but, from the little I know, I think this bird is a fairly standard nominate form P. c. collybita rather than anything Eastern and exotic. Even so, they do make me smile and it was a cheery sight on a frosty winter’s day.

Further up, where the river bends and cuts across Station Moor, a male Kestrel was perched in a sapling, eyeing up the small birds. None appealed and he returned to the air and to patrolling the grass. Over on Harding’s Moor and beyond, I came across 3 Little Egrets and, of course, the Kingfishers were active along the river.

From the footbridge over the Bulbourne. Left (west) is Harding's Moor; right (east) is Bulbourne Meadow

Both the young male and the young female bird were fishing in their favoured areas. I heard at least a third bird and saw what I think was a fourth bird. It’s quite difficult to keep track of them, especially if all you experience is a jet propelled fly past.

Finally, before I get to this week’s Oak photograph, I’d like to wish you all a very happy Christmas. Roll on the Turkey and the ill-advised but irresistibly large quantities of chocolate!

Week 47: Birds along the Bulbourne

I fancied a spot of pre-Christmas birding this week, concentrating on the River Bulbourne between Two Waters Road and where it meets the canal on Station Moor. I’m a sucker for our feathered friends. They have a unique effect on me. I spy a bird and I’m transported to a state of simple, primitive happiness. As my brain catches up: what’s not to like about a creature that is covered in thousands of perfectly formed, downy quills, arranged in patterns subtle or pronounced and which require tending to, with delicate care, through a fascinating life cycle of moult and wear? No other organism can look you in the eye, spread its wings and then rise into the skies come rain or shine. Each species, and each individual within that species, has a unique character or pattern of behaviour which, when observed over time, gives a sense of one connecting with, and relating to, that which is fundamentally wild and free. There’s nothing like it!

Grey Wagtail (Motacilla cinerea), preening

And so, on a bright Monday morning, I set off for the river. At one point, I was crouching down on the bank, photographing the immature female Kingfisher, when a Grey Wagtail flew in. It landed close to me, perching over the water, and began to preen in the sunshine. S/he wasn’t concerned by my watching and spent a good five minutes poking its bill into its feathers, smoothing them out, fluffing them up and doing a very good impression of a contortionist. It’s at moments like this that observing with a camera really comes into its own. Movements which are complete in the blink of an eye are frozen in time and you give yourself the opportunity to see exactly what’s going on. The photographs opposite show the bird grasping a single feather and then running its bill along the length of the shaft to bring each vane into line. Such care and precision. Beautiful.

Just fifteen minutes earlier, the young female Kingfisher had made a similar approach. She’d been perched across the river from where I was sitting but suddenly decided to fly towards me. She touched down only a few metres away and just sat there. I felt as though I should hold my breath, concerned that even the slightest movement would scare her off. Magical.

Other birds along the length of the river included the bobbing, diving Little Grebe; a handful of Mallards; at least 7 Moorhens; a Little Egret; one adult and one immature Grey Heron; flocks of Chaffinches, Goldfinches, Great Tits, Blue Tits and Blackbirds; 4+ Wrens; 15+ House Sparrows and 40+ Starlings; c12 Black-headed Gulls; 7+ Magpies; a handful of Jays, Crows, Jackdaws and Woodpigeons; a few Mistle Thrushes and a number of territorial Robins. Green and Great-spotted Woodpeckers, Nuthatch and Greenfinch are regularly around but I didn’t see/hear them on Monday. Sparrowhawk and Kestrel frequently patrol the area but, again, neither came through whilst I was there at the beginning of the week.

Black-headed Gull

I willed this little Robin to look up before taking flight but telepathy failed

It’s The Box Moor Trust’s volunteers’ Christmas lunch next week so if you’re involved in that, I shall look forward to seeing you there. In the meantime, I’ll finish off with this week’s Oak photograph, taken on Wednesday, just before midday.

Week 44: Barn Owl Pellet Dissection & Analysis

With just 8 weeks left of this year-long Project, I thought it was about time I tackled the Barn Owl (Tyto alba) pellets I’d retrieved from Box Moor Trust land over the summer. These black, shiny regurgitated nuggets are the Rolls Royce of The-Stuff-That-Animals-Leave-Behind. Just one of these little gems can contain the tell-tale remains of a whole night’s feeding.

 

Photo: Barn Owl at a rescue centre in Yorkshire, 2009

Like a lot of birds, Barn Owls swallow the majority of their prey items whole: fur, bones, teeth and all. Unsuspecting Field Voles go down the hatch and, initially, into the glandular stomach (proventriculus) where digestive juices get to work. After this, it’s the muscular stomach or gizzard (ventriculus) which acts as a kind of sieve or filter. All the insoluble stuff like fur, feathers, bones etc are retained in here whilst muscular contractions enable the soluble contents to pass through into the rest of the digestive system (small and large intestines and so on). Once the evening’s feed is done, and before further feeding can take place, the gizzard has to be cleared out. It could be up to 10 hours after feeding has finished that the gizzard-shaped pellet is pushed back up through the glandular stomach and coughed up out through the bill. Pellets can be found on the ground at favoured roost sites and, when nesting, the female uses these as her nesting material. There’s nothing like laying your precious eggs in the fetid remains of partially digested rodents! Having said that, I'm the one who systematically collected more than a dozen of these things and lovingly placed them in her freezer next to the sausages. I’ll press on...

Small mammals, most notably Field Voles (Microtus agrestis), make up a large proportion of a Barn Owl’s diet. Reading suggested that one pellet, following a night’s feeding, could hold 4 full skeletons. I was keen to see if this really was the case and what exactly the Barn Owls had found to eat on/around Box Moor Trust land. I got hold of a copy of D. W. Yalden’s “Analysis of Owl Pellets” and downloaded the Pellet Analysis leaflet from the Barn Owl Trust (the images left/right are linked to the info), and set about dissecting a couple of pellets. The results were really very interesting. A special thanks to Martin Parr, Conservation Manager at Maple Lodge nature reserve, for his patience and help in identifying the prey items from the bones. Neither of us had any experience but we gave it a good go (tweezers and magnifying glass essential!).

Barn Owl pellet, approx 5cm long

Ok, so, this (below) is what came out of the (above) thoroughly dissected Barn Owl pellet (I abandoned the second pellet when I realised what a time consuming and painstaking task it was going to be). The bone fragments I couldn't identify are still in the plastic container. Essentially, within a fur matrix and amongst the 500 bones and bone fragments, the pellet very obviously contained at least 4 similarly sized rodents, identified as 1 Bank Vole (Myodes glareolus) (typically 9-11cm long) and 3 Wood Mice (Apodemus sylvaticus) (typically 8-11cm long). Thankfully, this is consistent with published research. Wood Mice are generally one of the main prey items of Barn Owls whilst Bank Voles also feature but to a much lesser extent (see National Owl Pellet Survey Report 2009 for further details). The most notable skeleton bones were 1 upper jaw set/skull, 4 sets of: lower jaw bones, pelvises, shins, thighs, upper arms and skull fragments. There were 3 sets of shoulder blades and forearms and a good selection of ribs, vertebrae, teeth and other likely limb bones. Ultimately, just as the literature suggested, the pellet contained at least 4 small mammals and was likely the sum of a night’s feeding in the wilds of Hemel Hempstead. It's incredible what you can dig out of something created within the digestive system of an Owl!

Approx 500 bones & bone fragments from 1 dissected Barn Owl pellet

I was lucky that the second pellet I half-heartedly dissected contained a Field Vole (Microtus agrestis), the main prey species for Barn Owls. So, I have a set of upper and lower jaws for Field Vole and Bank Vole, and a set of lower jaws for Wood Mouse.

A few photos (scale in mm) and brief notes follow in case they are of interest or use to others. Hopefully, the IDs are correct but, if not, give me a shout.

Bank Vole Jaws

Field Vole Jaws

Comparing Bank and Field Vole jaws

Similarities

3 cheek teeth in each jaw

Zig-zag chewing surfaces

Differences 

(UJ = upper jaw; LJ = lower jaw)

Bank Vole Jaws UJ: no extra loop on second molar (M2) on inner side. LJ: M2 has loops opposite and M3 has minor 3rd loop (not present in Field Vole)

Field Vole Jaws UJ: M2 has extra loop on inner (tongue) side LJ: M2 has loops alternate and M3 only has 2 loops on outer edge

Wood Mouse (Apodemus sylvaticus) lower jaw

3 cheek teeth, each with rounded cusps

Lower molars have 6 roots (2 on each tooth) [House Mouse (Mus musculus) has 5 roots; Harvest Mouse (Micromys minutus) has 7 roots]

First molar (M1) has 3 cusps along the front edge

Length of lower jaw approx 15mm (incl. incisor tooth)

Wildlife Explorers (Junior RSPB)

Last Saturday, the children of Box Moor Trust’s Wildlife Explorers’ club dissected 5 of the Barn Owl pellets. It was wonderful to hear how enthusiastic the children had been and that their curiosity and fascination had kept them digging for skeleton treasures for more than an hour. I collected the sum of their findings but haven’t yet had time to examine them in any depth. A cursory glance at the upper and lower jaw bones suggest more Field Voles (Microtus agrestis) and Wood Mice (Apodemus sylvaticus). However, there is one lower jaw bone which is particularly interesting. It has all the features of a Harvest Mouse (Micromys minutus), an increasingly scarce and therefore significant species. It’s a similar length to the Wood Mouse jaw; has 3 rounded cusp molars; 7 roots on those molars (3 on M1), and 3 cusps on the leading edge of M1. My only reservation is that it’s actually 1mm longer than the Wood Mouse jaw bone, which is something of an anomaly. However, assuming the other features are diagnostic, I’ll stick with the initial ID of Harvest Mouse (Micromys minutus), until/unless anyone can persuade me otherwise.

Harvest Mouse (Micromys minutus) lower jaw

3 rounded cusp molars; 7 roots (3 on M1); 3 cusps on leading edge of M1

A = Wood Mouse B = Harvest Mouse

Harvest Mouse lower jaw Length = 16mm

This is an exciting record and great work from the Wildlife Explorers. If I uncover anything else of special interest, I’ll be sure to include it in a later post.

Finally, if anyone is planning to dissect an owl pellet, I did discover that although a basic magnifying glass was useful, it didn’t give me enough magnification to be able to pick out the defining tooth features. Photographing the jaw bones with my macro lens was the best way to really see the pertinent details. Also, when the number of roots is significant, I did find that, with care, it was possible to pull the relevant tooth out a short distance (not the whole way) and then photograph the gum line. This enabled me to count the roots accurately.

Box Moor This Week

Although I do seem to have spent most of the week hunched over minuscule bones, clutching tweezers, trying to decipher tooth anatomy, I did escape into the fresh air of Box Moor on Tuesday morning. As temperatures reached around 14 degrees Celsius I shouldn’t have been surprised that a Small Tortoiseshell butterfly was fooled into flight over Fishery Moor. The Oak’s leaves are turning a beautiful orangey, yellow now and, out on the river Bulbourne, the Kingfisher family continue to squabble over territory. The young male was systematically fishing the river on Station Moor, moving from perch to perch, before going back to start all over again. It was interesting to see that the tip of his malformed upper bill looks as though it is in the process of breaking off. A second Kingfisher put in a brief appearance, quarrelled and then flew off east along the canal. The young male resumed fishing, regularly hovering over the water like a humming bird before diving for prey. I never tire of watching Kingfishers…

P.S. If anyone is interested in seeing something of the pellet dissection process, I made a short video here

Week 40: Harrier in Hemel, Migrant Search & Territorial Kingfishers

Young Female Kingfisher in Horse Chestnut on Bulbourne Meadow, overlooking the River Bulbourne

This week, we start off 2.5 miles from Box Moor Trust land, in a Horse Paddock. This is no ordinary Horse Paddock. It is to Interesting Birds what my garden is to the Local Cat Population, irresistible. Dan Forder is passionate about local birding and has spent innumerable hours in the field in and around Hemel Hempstead. When most of us would have given up and headed to Tring reservoirs, Maple Lodge or Tyttenhanger gravel pits, Dan has persevered. His patient dedication has continued to pay off and, over the past few months, at The Horse Paddock, he’s found Wheatears, Whinchats, Stonechats and a Tree Sparrow to name but a few. This week, Monday morning, the Horse Paddock had a new arrival for Dan. A Black Redstart! This is another passage migrant in Hertfordshire and, if not the first record for the Hemel area, it is not far off it. I got there at about 10:30am and, with Dan, excitedly watched the flighty Black Redstart and a couple of Stonechats. Photographs and details of the find are on Dan’s excellent blog here and here.

Spurred on by the presence of a Black Redstart locally, I opted for the Brickworks next. Black Redstarts favour industrial habitats so I hoped that the buildings and brick piles might have lured a second bird down for a pit stop. It wasn’t to be and, although I checked through 3 lively mixed Tit flocks, I couldn't conjure up a Yellow-browed Warbler either (another passage migrant, two of which had been reported at Amwell HMWT near Hertford). The mixed Tit flocks were mostly made up of Goldcrests, Blue Tits, Great Tits, Coal Tits and Long-tailed Tits but one also had a Nuthatch, another a Chiffchaff and also a few Chaffinches. Over head, I heard passage Skylarks and Meadow Pipits and around the Brickworks there were still numerous Hornets, bashful Bullfinches and chirpy Robins.

Home for some lunch and then out again to visit the Oak and Westbrook Hay. The Oak’s leaves are just beginning to take on their Autumn colours.

I searched high and low for migrants but except for an influx of Woodpigeons (really, really not what I was after), all I could find were 3 Redwing in the bushes by Preston Hill pond. Feeling worn out and deflated, I trudged back down hill to the car park at Dellfield.....to be greeted by Dan! He’d just arrived having spotted a Marsh Harrier from his office window in town. There’s a moral/lesson/joke-at-my-expense in there somewhere, I’m sure. Anyway, the bird had flown west and circled over Bulbourne Moor before moving out of sight. We made for higher ground and searched the valley and skies but couldn’t relocate the bird. Remarkably, the following day, Dan received a report that a Marsh Harrier had been spotted roosting on the gas towers by Roughdown Common. This is a great record for Dan and the Box Moor Trust and I only wish I’d seen it.

Tuesday morning, in near gale force winds, blissfully ignorant of roosting Marsh Harriers, I searched Roughdown Common. I found more than 25 sheltering Redwing and couple of Bullfinches before deciding enough was enough and taking shelter myself back home.

By Wednesday, I was worn out. I checked Roughdown again and took a leisurely stroll east along the river Bulbourne from Station Road. I’d walked across Bulbourne Meadow and was just about to carry on down river when I heard Kingfisher calls. I turned around and there, perched in the reflecting willow, were two Kingfishers, facing one another and posturing. Unfortunately, their territorial negotiations were almost instantly disturbed by a passing dog walker but the young female bird didn’t go far. The other bird was a male and I think possibly an adult male rather than the young male observed recently. I heard a third Kingfisher behind me down river. It really is wonderful to have these birds resident: feeding, breeding and thriving here.

I stayed a while and watched the young female fishing from the trees. She was very successful and it’s no wonder she is perhaps reluctant to move on from this territory.

Catch it


Lob it


Stun it

Position it

Bash its head in

Line it up and swallow it down

She looked remarkably pleased with herself having caught, killed and necked that little fish!

Week 37: Migrant Stonechat & Sibling King

Stonechat (Saxicola rubicola) (video grab)

Over the last week, it has been raining Stonechats…sort of! Dainty, orangey-brown puffs of down have been turning up in unusually high numbers, sitting pretty on prominent perches and showing themselves off to all and sundry...if you’re lucky. Ordinarily, a handful on Ivinghoe Beacon constitutes a good year. Last week, 19 were reported in one day! Dan of Hemel Birding found at least 3 at Water End, near Great Gaddesden last week. And, if ever there was a chance for one to turn up on Box Moor Trust land it was now, following what has obviously been an extraordinarily good breeding season. They are a resident species in the south and west of the UK but only really present in Hertfordshire during passage migration, with a few birds over-wintering. Their name, I guess, stems from their call, which starts with a whistle and ends with what sounds like two stones being bashed together.


Wednesday morning was my first opportunity this week to get out around Box Moor and I headed for Roughdown Common. I scoured all the obvious places a Stonechat might hang out and some not so obvious ones, just in case. I walked the moors, from Station Road to Two Waters Road, scanning the fence lines for bundles of feathers propelling themselves up into the air (or down onto the grass) to catch insects. No sign. However, I did come across a good dozen Common Darter dragonflies (Sympetrum striolatum), including a mating pair, on the river Bulbourne in exactly the same area that the damselflies had frequented in June. There is obviously something about the habitat in this location which is just right for damsels and dragons.

Wending my way back upriver, to the area which the Kingfishers favour (just downstream from the footbridge and weir between Harding’s Moor and Bulbourne Meadow), I got lucky. A Kingfisher was perched on a branch, attention firmly on the water. I inched my way nearer, trying to keep myself hidden, eventually getting as close as the cover would allow. I had about 90 precious seconds with the bird before we were disturbed by walkers and the encounter evaporated. But, more on that to follow.

Back to the Stonechat search. Thursday afternoon, off I went to Westbrook Hay. Dellfield had been transformed by the hay cut and, having photographed the Oak, I thought I’d just check Bovingdon Reach meadow for Stonechats or other migrants. It’s not difficult to imagine my delight when, up ahead of me, I saw a little bird fly up into the air and come back down to land on the top of a bush. It was unmistakably a Stonechat, enjoying the flies and insects accompanying the sheep, grazing the meadow. It was favouring the small “island” of vegetation on the south-east side, near Hay Wood. The next hour and half were spent watching and filming the immature male (fledged this year) as he fed on Hawthorn berries and tasty morsels plucked from flight and, on a couple of occasions, looked as though he was about to explode (you'll see what I mean if you watch the clip…). [The HD version is available on Vimeo: just click the HD button, bottom right corner, and follow the link]




Ok, returning to the Kingfisher story. The bird I saw on Wednesday was obviously a male but it wasn’t until I got home and went through the photographs that I was able to put the bird in context. It is in fact another immature bird (white tip to the bill and dark tops to the feet/legs) and is likely the sibling of the immature female I saw last week. He has a slightly deformed/damaged lower mandible, which will make him easy to identify in the near future. It really is fantastic news that the resident adult pair managed to successfully raise at least 2 fledglings this year.

Below are a series of shots of the young male as he preened. Heavy crops and backlit but I thought them worth sharing. I watched the bird dive into the water; emerge; settle, and then set about sorting out his feathers. Wonderful stuff.

This week's Oak photograph and Dellfield after the hay cut

Finally, the mothing team have trapped on Trust land a few times in recent weeks. You can read Ben’s latest reports and enjoy their best finds here and here.

Week 36: New Kingfisher & Menu of the Oak

Dellfield meadow underwent its annual hay cut on Monday which felt like the final nail in Summer’s coffin. It is officially Autumn. October looms large on the horizon. With limited time this week for Box Moor visits, I decided to make a bit of an effort to photograph the resident Kingfishers. Ah yes, I hear you cry, “limited time” is just what you need to photograph Kingfishers?! OK, as with anything, you make the best of what you have. Tuesday’s weather looked promising, I’d observed the Kingfishers regularly along the Bulbourne on Monday, and I’d found and erected a great looking new perch for them just where I had seen them fishing.

Tuesday morning, I rose, bleary-eyed thanks to my local Tawny Owl screeching its little feathery socks off seemingly all night. I arrived at Bulbourne Meadow at about 9:20am and set up under the willow, opposite the perch. What I hadn’t realised, in my haste on Monday afternoon, was that that stretch of the river is in shade until about 11:40am….  I ploughed on, hoping for some luck. 4 or 5 fly pasts, including a pair together but only two touchdowns, not on my perch but on the concrete surround of the inlet pipe from the canal, which was actually closer to me. The second time, having waited patiently for 1 hour and 40 long minutes, I managed 4 frames before a walker disturbed the bird and the opportunity was gone. I stuck it out another half an hour before I decided I couldn’t tolerate my numb bum any longer. I returned in the afternoon for another hour but there was far more disturbance and although I could hear the Kingfishers around the area, they didn’t even fly past this time.

I can’t complain. In fact, after chatting with a very experienced birder friend, it appears I managed to photograph one of this year’s young. It was the fine white tip to the bill which initially made me wonder about the age of this bird. My friend then pointed out that the tops of the feet are slightly darker than you’d expect on a mature adult and the red base to the bill covers a smaller area than you’d expect. When I filmed the adult pair courting/nesting back in March, I never dreamt I’d actually get a good look at one of the young they produced. I guess that over the next few weeks the resident adult pair will encourage this first year bird to move on and find her own territory, hopefully not too far away.

Below is the stretch of the river Bulbourne which I staked out from Bulbourne Meadow. Across the river is Bulbourne Moor and beyond the fence, behind the bench, is Harding’s Moor.

Bulbourne River

Although my new perch wasn’t tempting to the Kingfishers, a Grey Wagtail had a go. Shame about it being in deep shade but best laid plans and all that...


On Monday, I’d returned to the spot from which I’d photographed Bulbourne Meadow in February. This time the trees are in leaf and the shadows dense. (Both photographs together here)

Monday afternoon, having set up my ever-so-promising new Kingfisher perch, I headed up to Dellfield to photograph the Oak. The sun was shining, the air was still...and....a tractor was scything its way through the hay. It’s strange. On some level, I had obviously thought that the approach of Autumn could be halted if only the meadow remained wild and uncut. In that instance, the seasons changed and I was confronted with the unyielding nature of time. Summer has passed.

I stayed for a while, watching the meadow slowly succumb to the scythe. It was oddly poignant, having spent so many hours considering the life and interactions of that parcel of land. From the mycorrhizal fungi deep within the earth, sustaining the Oak; to the rampant worms enriching the soil; the emergence of that magnificent carpet of Cowslips....the Dandelions and wild flowers; the orchids; the Tortoise beetles; the hours spent chasing little moths and butterflies around until they settled; the Kestrel family fledging and feeding over the meadow; the Barn Owls hunting for Field Voles scurrying through the long grasses; and finally, last week, the Hornet catching and eating the Crane Fly out there in the meadow. All of it over for another year. But, of course, the cycle will begin again and for now the land rests, seeds bed down and the cut hay goes on to sustain Box Moor’s cattle through the winter.

Dellfield's Annual Hay Cut

By the time I left, 6+ Red Kites were following the tractor, diving down to pick off small mammals which had been exposed or fallen prey to the process

Finally, the Oak is determined to feed me. This week, a new edible fungus has sprouted from another old wound in the trunk. First it was Chicken, now it’s Beefsteak (Fistulina hepatica). In fact, it looks like the tree is sticking its tongue out at me (go on, tell me that doesn't look like a tongue?!). The upper surface of the fungus is rough and red (see upper right insert in photograph below), the lower surface is creamy-white and densely packed with tiny little pores (lower right insert). From these pores, which are the openings of tiny tubules, the spores are released. “The genus name is a diminutive of the Latin word fistula and means "small tube", whilst the species name hepatica means "liver-like", referring to the consistency of the flesh” (Wikipedia). What is more, apparently, when cut, “it bleeds a dull red juice” making it look all the more like meat. Tempted...?!

Beefsteak Fungus (Fistulina hepatica)