Gulls are great... ... no really!

Small ones are great. Large ones, well I am playing hard to get. But what a difference actually seeing something interesting in your large flocks of larid layabouts can make. Quietly wandering across the football pitches towards the Alex, for another round of count the ducks, a red bill caught my attention. It was bright and big. Hang about, it also showed no black on its wings at all. When it finally came to rest it also had bright red legs, result! My text was soon responded to by Tim and Jono, but I had already had my fill of Med Gull and was off to tote up the tufties. This now meant I would have to stay and refind the bird. JL was first on the scene, a stop off while taking his kids to school. Tick and run, though to be fair he was going to see if the children were enthusiastic about adding MG to their Wanstead lists and before he could get back an elderly gent and his dog had gone straight through the gull flock scattering them to the four corners. Luckily the Med went westward where Tim caught up with it on the brick fields (his first on the patch having missed last Summer's bird). Job done.




Having forgotten the hours I've spent looking at countless BH Gull to make one MG, it always surprises me how bloody obvious they are. No matter, I will be back searching fruitlessly next week at countless BH Gull to make one MG.



Back on track I was filled with a fresh sense of optimism and endeavour with regards larids. I started scanning the reassembled flocks between myself and the lake. A couple of Herring Gull, two or three LBBGs and many Common and Black-heads. The group immediately in front of me, mainly CGs in various states of lethargy, contained something slightly more interesting at the back. In that at first glance through bins (which need constant wiping against the drizzle), the alert bird was significantly larger than its companions. It was also not so cute as the soporific Commons before it, but no way as angry looking as the couple of Herring Gulls paddling for worms. Bill much larger with a prominent dark ring, dark markings on the neck and head, probably not a Common Gull I summised. Which left my knowledge of gulls with only one suggestion. Now I've seen Rossi a couple of times when year listing: take a train to Westcliffe on Sea, walk to the front by the Icecream parlour look on the street lamps, on the groynes - bingo if he's there job done. No more than ten minutes work each time (I did miss him once), and your back on a train. He is to say the least rather obvious. You know he's likely to be there and so looking is easier. Take a similar bird out of context and its harder. Strangely though just as when I saw the Westcliffe bird there was absolutely no elation whatsoever, that built up later. First I wanted Tim to see the bird for confirmation or correction. He was still wandering around after some small winter plumaged black headed gull with a bright blood red beak. The bird flew off to the south. I should have noticed mirrors'n'stuff, I should have taken a picture (but judging from the woeful results of the morning these would probably have been less than helpful), I should be better at taking notes (which for me still amount to 1 or 2 or perhaps a bigger number!). I can say it had fairly extensive black on the wing ends and thus little white. I should have noted where it went, but I got distracted by a text. Bugger! Couldn't find it, though now all flying birds were looking like it. Bugger! But not being one to give up easily I scanned the few patches of white things and gave up. Bugger! Tim says they are loyal to a patch e.g. Rossi. So it will be back tomorrow and so will Wanstead Birders... ... with telescopes. We'll pin the bugger down.



... what the Mediterranean Gull might have looked like it if it had been last year in the summer, still leaves plenty of room for the imagination. I can't fathom why Tim chose Jono's picture for his wonderful The Birds of Wanstead 2010.

Halcyon

The Kingfishers look to be back, as if from a long vacation the way they were scooting up and down the river checking out what had changed. What a heart lifter the first glimpse of the metallic spear shooting off down the river was, but then to have two chasing each other over the woods and playing fields made my day. And with the male Blackcap pottering about the hedges by the stables and later the singing Treecreeper I was loathed to go to work (when am I not!). A good day.



... and signing out on a high, have some catkins just about to pop out in all their furry loveliness

Saturday, 5 February

A late post, but I had to cut short my amble round the patch yesterday to go to Cambridge to sort out a phone. It always the same the less time you have the more you want to stay out, the delusion being that you think your going to see something special, because you've seen something 'quite' special. I was hoping that a J Snipe might be confirmed today, but there was nothing on the first walk through the bog. I had to go to the Cat and Dog pond to get a Snipe, which was possibly the one I flushed later from the aforementioned boggy bit of the SSSI. The species were rattling up and it looked good for 50 on the flats, missing were Skylark, Fieldfare (haven't seen any for some time now), Sparrowhawk, Goldcrest, RN Parakeet (also seemingly thin on the ground). A coffee beckoned so down to the little tea shop of happiness, for a mug and a slice. It was too early, so I dinked round the corner to see if I could catch up with the Rail, not showing, and to see if there were any large sawbills on Perch, there weren't. Ah well a mug and slice then. Refreshed I made off to the old sewage works, a Kestrel - probably the same one I'd just seen over the Alex - patch tick. By the little sluice a white object appeared on the side of the Roding. Little Egret, I thought, but I've made this mistake before so checking it wasn't another plastic bag with my bins, it's identity was confirmed (#77 for Wanstead this year). It was then flushed by some golfers teeing off just across the river. It lazily flapped south and round the corner. I followed. I was checking out the opposite bank when I heard a plonk as a errant golf ball hit the water. The Little Egret, which must have been on the bank below me and obscured from view, flopped westward and then over the park. Bad shot, but then I noticed other white objects in the mud and on the far shore, the results of sliced tee shots. I decided that I too might be in danger from the swaggering oafs on the other bank so headed back to the park.




Lots of Tufties, loads of noisy Siskin, but still no Kingfisher. Caught up with the Egret again as it fished with success just south of the pumping station.



And here's what it looks like after a bit of a touch up in photoshop...

The blustery day

With strong winds over night the odds were high that there might be something interesting on or over the patch this morning. I intended to get up early. I didn't. That meant that a full circuit was off the agenda and that staring into bushes would have to be cut to a minimum. A male Peregrine followed the line of the trees on the south edge of the flats and gaining height disappeared over Forest Gate (yay! year tick). The Heron was on Jubilee, patiently watching. Two Cormorants dived for god knows what and the wheeling Starling remained stubbornly starling and not Waxwings. No blown in lost birds either. The Fairground was empty bar a group of crows, Skylarks absent. Just before the SSSI a "snipe" flushed from the boggy ground near my feet and silently whizzed over the trees and out of sight. It appeared smaller, it appeared to have a shorter bill, it appeared to have a heavily streaked (with gold) back, it appeared to have a pointy tail. The regular Snipe was under its favoured tree and it to obliged me by taking flight. Both were silent. Now I've never seen a Jack Snipe in flight so I don't really know what to expect. I consulted Stuart (F), who said they fly straight and quickly dive for cover, which mine didn't. The fact that it had sat tight till I was nearly on top of it favoured JS, but I really don't know; it's one of those moments that you start influencing your thoughts to suit your initial reaction. So a possible. Bugger! Must do better. And like the possible YB Warbler, the possible Black Redstart and probably a host of other possibles - not counted.



No such problems in the Park. The Water Rail had not been incorporated into a Heron's diet, the Egyptian Geese were still in situ after trying out the Basin the day before, and there appeared to be many more Siskin in evidence. It's always the same though, I could and wanted to stay longer, but my contract says that I have to go to work. Bugger! The sharp-eyed will have noticed that my enforced paragraph break today is brought to you by the word Cormorant and the number 1.

Swan ate my trousers

A man from east London was today in shock after a vicious and un-provoked attack on his person by one of the Queen's own swans gone rogue. The man was set upon, by the so called Shoulder of Mutton pond, in Wanstead Park this morning by a pack of delinquent wildfowl whilst going about his business counting the less offensive members of the waterfowl to be found on ponds in the area. "It had gnashing, slavering teeth and a rabid look in its eyes, I feared for my life", said the man. "It's those pesky do-gooders who are feeding these birds filth to which they finally become addicted, and their behaviour gets quite outrageous as they try and score more white bread." This was not the first time the man has been subject to the un-wanted attentions of theCygnus family, prior to Christmas he had his finger severely beaked as an adolescent grabbed for his cheese and onion pasty.



The bastard swan in question



Meanwhile: Skylark feeding on the Fairground, with a few mipits in attendance, some duck and stuff, and in the Park some ducks and stuff and 9 Linnets in the old sewage works. Cast your mind back to my impressively brilliant chart of the other day and you will notice that some months are better than others. From this scientific resource we can see that one could, feasibly stay in bed till late March/early April, go back to bed again in late May through to mid August and not miss a hell of a lot. As an idea it has a lot going for it.



I was going to finish with something eloquent regarding the beauty of certain trees at this time of the year, but considering the shot above I would be hard pressed to make it believable!

More Therapy

We left our Heron standing around Wanstead's Perch Pond, motionless - physically still. What a difference two days of standing about in the cold water make. Today he was still there, but had chosen to stand on a branch instead.