220 for 2022 – July Update

Welcome to my 220 for 2022 – July Update. I seldom indulge in much birding during these hot, barren summer months. Normally my time would be spent looking for butterflies, dragonflies and suchlike rather than probing the slim pickings of the birding season. This year is different of course, with the irrepressible nag that time is ticking by, translating to the sense that I have to get out there and fill the quota. All a self imposed illusion, with the consequence that if I’m not careful, what should be an enjoyable escapade will morph into something of a chore. In that context, July has been a mixed bag. Early on there were some magical moments, but as the sun beat down and the vegetation shrivelled, things became far less pleasurable. Despite all, I managed to see some good birds, albeit with most of them at long range. Read on…..

1st July 2022 – time was when a pair of Honey Buzzards would take up residence in central Norfolk and attempt to breed with varying degrees of success. They alternated between Swanton Novers Great Wood and, latterly, Sennowe Park a couple of miles to the south. On our annual pilgrimages, we occasionally had superb views of birds flying above our heads at tree top level, but mainly they were distant glimpses as one soared over the canopy; satisfying nonetheless. As far as I can tell, the last successful nesting took place in 2009, and although birds have been seen off and on since then, no breeding attempt has been made in that area. 2022 looks like bucking the trend with up to 4 birds reported recently – time for a visit don’t you think?

With banks of dark, brooding cloud bubbling up from the west, we took up position at the quite well patronised watchpoint. A few exchanges with the birders close to told of good action earlier in the morning, so things seemed promising. I scanned the canopy of the nearby ancient woodland, where after a short while I saw a flat winged raptor gliding towards me. Initially it looked good, but as it turned it was obviously not the right shape, and a further twist showed off the forked tail. Red Kite. As I continued to watch this lovely bird, another raptor flew out of the wood and across my field of view. I instantly knew this to be a Goshawk – large, powerful, white leggings on display. Others were quickly on to the bird and we watched together as it glided along the woodland edge revealing itself to be a cracking male.

As spots of light rain began to fall, I contemplated sitting in the car to ride it out, but am rather glad I didn’t. Another scan of the tree line resulted in a tantalising glimpse of a large raptor, which I was pretty certain was a Honey Buzzard. I alerted those around me, and sure enough the bird flew out into the open and treated us to a fantastic spiral which showed off every key feature you could hope for: flat wings, ‘cuckoo’ head, long, sparsely banded tail, and beautifully spotted underwings, all in all a stonker of a bird. This individual, showing seriously abraded primary feathers, flew around for a bit before soaring over our heads, when the distinctive shape could be appreciated to the full. I was a happy man.

Later, with the ominous dark skies approaching from the west, we spent an hour or so at Cley watching the local Marsh Harriers getting mobbed by protective Avocets, Lapwings and Redshanks. Just as well the harriers were not minded to hunt along the Catchwater Drain, because this little chap might well have ended up as a tasty snack.

3rd July 2022 – towards the end of June we attempted to add Nightjar to the list by visiting the nearest place to home where we know they breed, Buxton Heath. Despite staying until well past 10pm, we failed on that occasion to see or hear a single bird, which was rather disconcerting, especially since conditions seemed perfectly fine. Scroll on a few days, and we decided another attempt was a must, but this time we would give ourselves maximum chances by spending the twilight hours at Salthouse Heath, where the birds have never failed us. We arrived way too early, fooled as we were by lowering cloud near home which made it seem darker than it actually was. Once parked at the top of the heath looking over a distant and flat calm North sea, we realised the sun was still well above the horizon and wouldn’t plummet below that plane for some time hence. In fact as we munched a sandwich and sipped our tea, the sun broke through a band of dark cloud to illuminate the area around us with soft, golden light. It was 8.30 but felt like mid afternoon. Well, at least there was Greatest Hits to listen to on the radio.

Slowly the shadows crept further away from the car and the light began to fade. 9.15pm and time to get out and have a good scan of the tree line and tune ears into the sounds around. If you’ve never been out Nighjarring (and why on earth haven’t you?), you may not be able to appreciate the wonderful feeling of being alone on an open heath as dusk creeps inexorably across the land surrounding you. The air stills, enabling sound to carry an amazing distance. It was almost full dark as I looked east and south, but a 180 degree swivel showed a sky of pale blue still streaked with pastel shades of orange and red as a legacy of a superb sunset.

Standing still in the gloom, I could hear a Songthrush, a Blackbird, several Woodpigeons, a Linnet and a Yellowhammer eking out the last of the daylight to ply their musical signatures. A car passing on the road into Salthouse half a mile distant, with radio blaring, sounded as though it were almost next to me, and twinkling across the Wash were the lights of Skegness in Lincolnshire. Distance and sound condensed in time and space. 9.30pm, and surely it was dark enough for the birds to tune up and begin churring? Seemingly not. But then as I returned to the car after a short walkabout, I was sure I caught a snatch of song far away on the other side of the clearing. It had to be, but there was no follow up, so perhaps I was mistaken. 9.45pm and still nothing of note. A scan through binoculars of the sea scape below revealed the lights of trawlers, while the lines of distant wind turbines stood sentinel against the metallic sheen of the sea and the tangerine sky, as a crescent moon shone down on all. So beautiful, and there was no other souls bar us to see this wonderful sight.

Nearly 10pm and time for another walkabout – it was still bright enough to see exactly where I was going. As I rounded a bend, I saw a dark shape swoop across the path, too quick to be sure. I followed in the direction of the phantom, and within a few seconds was watching a Nightjar dance around me like a newly emerged mayfly. The bird bounced around the surrounding shrubs and gorse, at times coming within a couple of feet. I vainly tried to focus the camera on this ethereal being, but gave up and just watched. Never have I seen such a bird so close, never have I been so transfixed. Nature watching provides many moments of divine pleasure, and this was surely one of them. And then it was over, the bird floated away into the dark and the spell was broken.

5th July 2022 – for several months there have been reports of Caspian Gulls roosting on the beach at Cromer. Lured by this Larid, Allan and me spent a few hours today scrutinising every large gull we saw along the seafront of that fine Victorian town. Gulls are a difficult group to get to grips with, they go through a variety of plumages as they mature, and within each stage there is tremendous variation between individuals: eye colour, leg colour, bill markings, bleaching, general wear and tear and so on. To add to the misery, there is size differential between the sexes and also between peers. Best to leave them well alone then you may think, and you’d probably be right, but in this crazy year it seems any price is worth paying for a new tick. Anyway, the sun was shining, we could sit drinking coffee while looking out over the beach, so it wasn’t exactly heavy duty work.

Caspian Gulls are part of a great complex of similar sized and plumaged gulls that range around large chunks of the Northern Hemisphere. To the vast majority of people they would simply be another seagull with a grey back and a penchant for free handouts, but to a gull nerd they present some neat identification challenges. Field guides would have you think their distinctive features make them a doddle to sort out from the crowd; field guides can be over optimistic in this regard. We scrutinised every gull we saw, dismissing most as Herring Gulls (as they indeed were), slotting a couple into the Lesser Black-backed category and one as a small 2nd summer Great Black-backed. So far, so good, but what about the others? This is where the mind plays tricks. We were looking for distinct features: small head, sloping forehead, dark eye, longish straight sided bill, dark tertials, long legs and so on, and we thought we had found them on certain birds. ‘That beak looks long and straight’ one of us would say ‘Hmmmm, but the eye is pale’, a pause before ‘What about that one, head shape looks good’ another pause ‘That’s a pigeon Barry’. Try as we might we couldn’t find anything that caused us to really sit up and take notice, the conclusion was that we simply couldn’t find it. But we did learn a lot about Herring Gulls.

As the tide receded, a flock of gulls assembled on the beach near a fresh water outlet. Here they drink and bathe, but still afforded no glimpse of the sought after bird. We left, defeated in battle, but determined to win the war. There’s no rush, the bird isn’t going anywhere, and we can return to have another bash. Naturally, a hour after we got home a Caspian Gull was reported from Cromer beach.

25th July 2022 – boy, do we need rain. Everywhere is so parched and lifeless. A trip to RSPB Titchwell Marsh today revealed large areas of cracked, dried mud with the only open water concentrated at the north-eastern side of the reserve. Unfortunately that is the area furthest from the public hides, so everything was a long way off. The primary purpose for this visit was to catch sight of a Lesser Yellowlegs that has turned up to strut its stuff. We saw it after a bit of searching – a distant view of a pale, long legged wader feeding along the edge of one of the islands. Shame to consign such a lovely bird to a simple smudge on the horizon, but there you are. Further scrutiny of the assembled blobs of feeding birds revealed a pair of Spotted Redshank and a Green Sandpiper, which at least had the decency to fly across my field of view leaving no mistake as to its identity.

Later at Cley, we had an unfulfilling view of another rarity, a Night Heron, hunkered down at the base of a line of reeds and obscured by a nearer curtain of thick cover that only allowed brief views of the bird when the stiff breeze caused it to sway violently one way or another. Even then, just the head of the bird was visible, but it was a Night Heron so down on the list it goes. I would happily have hung around for an hour hoping for a flight view, but with the need for sustenance growing strong, decided to settle for what I had.

27th July 2022 – a reverse run of 25th, starting at Cley with Elizabeth where the scrapes showed little and a sea watch was as productive as waiting for Norwich City to win a game. Determining that both those activities were a total bust, we moved to Titchwell, where once again a parched scene stretched before us. I set up the scope to slowly scan the muddy wastes, upon which slowly, one by one, various waders could be sorted from the pack. The Lesser Yellowlegs briefly appeared, as did a Spotted Redshank, but I was more interested in a group of smaller waders busy feeding in the shallows. Nearly all were Dunlin, most easily told by the varying degree of black underbelly still remaining from their breeding dress, but scurrying around a few yards from them were a pair of smaller birds feeding in a far more earnest manner, Little Stints. Beyond them were a trio of bigger, more dumpy waders with russet red underparts, very welcome Knot. A Whimbrel arrived and a Spoonbill woke up before me and another chap noticed one of the Dunlin wasn’t a Dunlin. It was much paler, had an apricot coloured wash on its breast and a much clearer supercilium, a Curlew Sandpiper. Despite the distances involved and the necessity for a scope, I rather enjoyed this session which plugged some gaps in the year list rather nicely. In fact Titchwell has proved most profitable this week, supplying 6 new species of wader. Thank you Titchwell. We shall return no doubt, when nature decides to let us have a drop or two of rain.

Everybody has struggled a little this month to add much to their list. My Titchwell visits allowed me to get a respectable tally for the month and I’m just shy of the 200. Darren is closing the gap with some great birds during the month, some of which were close to home and/or seen from his garden. You can read about his exploits here. Sean has found getting out and about difficult during July, and unsurprisingly has pushed his tally forward by only 2, read about his monthly highlights here, while Tim added not a single bird. The lower order places are getting interesting with Ros moving off the bottom to leapfrog Allan, (I could have stuck to an alphabetical ordering, but I’m a gentleman, so ladies first). Her elevated status is a result of a fruitful trip to Shetland, where you can’t fail to see some great species at close quarters. Allan did add a few corkers – Bee-eaters, Rock Pipit – but enjoyed the gull hunting at Cromer the best (as did I). Elizabeth pretty much added the same species as me, moving her score forward by 9.

A few images of Shetland and its wildlife provided by Ros, thanks Ros.

We have 5 months left to reach the target, problem is some of us are running out of birds to tick. Hopefully a few northerly blows over the coming weeks will enable a bit of sea-watching, when those otherwise pretty much invisible birds will be forced towards our shores. As always, those in the right place at the right time will reap rewards.

Participant	Overall Score	5K Challenge	Garden List
Barry Madden	199	76	31
Darren Archer	193	111	50
Tim Oxborough	190	63
Sean Locke	160
Elizabeth Dack	148
Ros Burrough	144	55	42
Allan Archer	144

That concludes the 220 for 2022 – July Update. For previous monthly updates click here.