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.