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Written by Jeff Clarke
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Wednesday, 28 December 2011 15:57 |
Waiting
All images unless otherwise stated © Jeff Clarke 2011
Wednesday 28th December dawned with a promising glimpse of blue sky and the forecast suggested a prolonged period of unbroken sunshine from 9.00am onwards. A quick gathering of the equipment and I headed off towards Moore Nature Reserve, just south of the Mersey, on the west side of Warrington. I planned to spend a few hours trying to get a flight shot of one of our most enigmatic birds.
I entered the hide at 9.00am, joining a real bird photographer and settled down to wait in anticipation. This sort of photography is just that waiting, waiting a bit longer, and then just to break the tedium strolling around for a few seconds to get the blood back to your feet before commencing waiting a bit more. Every once in a while a muscle tensioned state ensues provoked by the possibility that something might fly, or walk, within acceptable photographic range.
After about 40mins the Bittern obliged by walking a across an open patch between two reedbeds, a staccato stutter of shutters and a few record shots were secured. The low light conditions created a slightly grainy image. Not an image to get over excited about. A short while later the sun popped out from behind the last bank of cloud. Sadly the bittern failed to re-materialise and so I contented myself with some very average shots of Common Buzzard and Grey Heron.
Definitely a day of so close and yet so far. I'll get that flight shot one day. |
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Written by Jeff Clarke
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Sunday, 04 December 2011 14:27 |
Banishing the Winter Blues
All images unless otherwise stated © Jeff Clarke 2011
As I sit typing this blog the weather outside is cold, wet and dank. It's the sort of day when winter starts to grip your body. My left wrist is aching, a legacy of a break when I was eight years old, a sure sign that a long mild autumn is finally drawing to close. I feel like entering hibernation.
In recent days I've been putting together a new talk on 'Green Spain' and it has really helped me to re-live some fondly remembered days in the Picos de Europa and Pyrenees earlier this year. The myriad images of twirling, gliding, cavorting butterflies are especially vivid. I gave up obsessively listing how many species I'd seen many years ago but just for a bit of fun and background for this blog, I quickly totted up my butterfly year list and discovered I'd seen a creditable 105 species, the vast majority in just 20 days in Northern Spain.
Many eye-catching species, like the myriad members of the Nymphalidae, are prominent on the list, indeed I remember a few occasions suffering what can only be described as 'Fritillary Meltdown' trying to get to grips with half a dozen different species of these orange and black blurs as they zipped around meadows so vibrantly dotted with colour that it reminded me of those colour-blindness charts they test you with at school.
For me though the most indelible memory is of the dazzling and dainty members of the Lycaenidae; AKA the hairsteaks,coppers and blues. Even keeping some of these in vision is a challenge. I recall standing with Paul Hill as we watched a tiny blue butterfly whirring in concentric circles a matter of feet away and yet neither of us could follow its path for more than a few seconds before losing it from view, a trick of the eye as effective as chucking a Klingon Cloaking Mechanism over it, after a a series of manic flights it finally settled in binocular view range and we were able to confirm it as Lang's Short-tailed Blue.
The Picos de Europa in Spring and Summer is alive with blue butterflies and without doubt the most obvious is the checkerboard edged Adonis Blue. Fresh specimens are so electric blue they could make a kingfisher feel dowdy. At the opposite end of the spectrum is the Brown Argus, a blue butterfly, whose upperwings are anything but colourful. Yet when they sit on a flower head with wings closed suddenly revealed is an exquisitely marked underwing, sprinkled with black dots and orange chevrons. Getting to grips with the complex underwing patterns of the blues is a bit like platting fog, but gradually things click into place and quite soon it is possible to decipher some of the more cryptic species so that separating Little Blue from Osiris, or Green Underside from Black Eyed Blue becomes more of an exciting challenge and less of a daunting prospect.
Without doubt my most abiding memory of the blue butterflies of Northern Spain this year were the hordes of Silver-studded Blues, avidly drinking up moisture and nutrients from damp patches of mud and gravel. When disturbed they would ripple en-masse like football crowd at the moment a goal is scored. Mesmerising and beautiful. The perfect antidote to chase away the winter blues!
For more information on the Butterflies of the Picos de Europa visit Teresa Farino's Iberian Wildlife Tours website
The 2012 tour of the Picos de Europa is timed to hit a major peak of butterfly diversity and abundance. Click the link for details.
The following two butterfly identification guides are recommended for anyone interested in Europe's butterflies.
Collins: Field Guide to the Butterflies of Britain & Europe.
Tristan Lafranchis Butterflies of Europe - Field Guide and Key |
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Written by Jeff Clarke
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Sunday, 30 October 2011 20:08 |
Otter Than July
All images unless otherwise stated © Jeff Clarke 2011
As dawn crept slowly over the eastern horizon I was ploughing north up the M6 headed for Leighton Moss RSPB Reserve, where I would be leading my
'Birdcraft' adult education group around one of the UK's premier wetland sites. I arrived well ahead of time and intended to spend an hour or so looking for some of the special wildlife that resides there. The sun was still below the horizon as I slowly walked down the public causeway. Cetti's Warbler blasted from cover and the 'tching ping' calls of Bearded Tit's chimed in the reeds. I reached the viewing area for the gritting trays and in no time I was watching several of these delightful Parrotbills taking on board their morning grit load in preparation for grinding up a winter diet of seeds.
After a time I wondered down the causeway in pursuit of Otters, I was soon running out of time and needed to head back to meet my group as I did so my path was crossed by a party of 5 otters; a mother and her 4 cubs. The crowd of people 100 metres up the track watching the grit trays were oblivious to their presence.It was obvious where I would be bringing my group a little later that morning.
An hour later my group and I reached the Lower Hide and proceeded to have a truly magical hours wildlife watching. I've spent many a happy time at this hide observing otters, but most views are fleeting, but not today as the family party cavorted in the water, playing, tumbling and hunting eels, we had them in view for a least 30 mins. As if that wasn't enough a pair juvenile Marsh Harriers hunted the reedbed together with a 'ringtail' Hen Harrier
It was one of those rare days when it all comes together and the bonus was the beautiful weather. We finished on a real high.As dusk approached we entered the Grizedale Hide and in low sunlight we had stunning views of a juvenile and an adult female Marsh Harrier, Red Deer feeding out on the marsh and to top it all off a mesmerising Starling roost, several hundred thousand strong but on a 'sky blackening' finale to a stellar day. |
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Written by Jeff Clarke
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Monday, 17 October 2011 12:17 |
The Big Push
All images unless otherwise stated © Jeff Clarke 2011
On Saturday 15th October I left my house well before dawn. The starry sky promised to turn into a stunningly blue autumn day. I arrived in a Hale village as the first glimmers of dawn were stealing over the eastern horizon. I headed for the watchpoint and the flitting forms of Blackbirds, uttering the odd "chuck" and minor alarm call, suggested there had been a significant arrival overnight. This was a good omen for the planned migration watch. After a twenty minute hike I reached my favourite Hale Head Watchpoint and prepared for what I hoped would be a momentus migration of birds through the peninsula.
I was joined by Rob Cockbain and Kath Edwards just as the first onslaught of migrants began to pulse through. As so often on these 'blue sky' days the birds were pretty high. The first to show were Redwings at first in small parties. Shortly after the first trickle of Woodpigeons began to pass over. Over the next hour this became a torrent of birds. Three species dominated the action, the aforementioned Redwings and Woodpigeons, strongly backed up by Fieldfares.
Although the Woodpigeon count was fairly accurate I know we missed many flocks of the Scandinavian thrushes, some of which were so high they were almost invisible even with binoculars. We also missed lots of finches as they were engulfed by the mass of other birds. We eventually switched to another watchpoint where we were able to pick up the finches. Dominated by Chaffinches but a fair sprinkling of other birds joined them, notably a tight group of three Lapland Bunting that scooted by. By the end of the watch we had recorded a remarkable 25,370 birds
The full results of one of my most memorable Hale Head migration watches can be viewed on the Trektellen website where you can also see returns from other migration watchpoints around Europe.
Postcript: I've had several more visits in recent days, not as spectacular but still superb. I've added a few extra pictures from these visits. |
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Written by Jeff Clarke
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Wednesday, 28 September 2011 21:19 |
Water Water Everywhere
All images unless otherwise stated © Jeff Clarke 2011
What a day of contrasts this turned out to be. First thing this morning I set about photographing a ladybird 'first for Cheshire', a wee tiny thing called Rhyzobius chrysomeliodes, only to see it flip out of the specimen tube as I uncorked it and disappear somewhere, never to be seen again.
I then set off for Parkgate Marsh, on the Wirral, to run a birdwatching session for an adult education group. It was a stunningly warm and beautiful day; not good for high tide birding at Parkgate. I arrived early and decided to tap a few bushes around the car park, to try and add a few dots to the maps for the forthcoming ladybird atlas. I headed for a Tamarisk. Two taps later and I was staring at 97 Water Ladybirds and a couple of 11-spot Ladybirds as a bonus. I was completely non-plussed. Water Ladybird is not associated with Tamarisks, it is a ladybird of Common Reed and Reedmace beds.
A short while later my group arrived and after 3 largely unproductive hours, due to high pressure and contrary winds suppressing the tide and a problematic heat-haze we decided to call it quits. I then took a couple of the group with me as I explored the ladybird phenomena further. All along the coast, no matter what I tapped or suckered using my converted leaf-blower, I was getting dozens of Water ladybirds. In total I only sampled a tiny proportion of the area and recorded at least a four figure count. I've never seen or heard of anything like this before. Even in the ordinary grassland behind the seawall they were out-scoring the more anticipated 24-spot ladybirds by 10 to 1. My provisional theory is that the very high tides of recent days forced the Water Ladybirds off the saltmarsh and they have taken refuge along the coastal strip.
I contacted the UK Ladybird Survey and they confirmed they had never heard of anything like this concentration of Water ladybirds anywhere in the UK. So all in all a memorable day of contrasting fortunes. |
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