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 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)