Late winter in England's West Country

Rural Dorset is probably one the last places in England where its possible to imagine you are in times long since gone.  Beautiful puffed-up hills, bisected by deep and remote coombes bottomed with gin-clear streams where the only sound you might hear is the mewing call of a Buzzard.  A coast to die for, containing spectacular cliffs and arches and, in the western part of the county, the Fleet lagoon banked on its seaward side by the gigantic Chesil Beach.  Climatically too this part of the world is a bit special with a climate so mild it could have been invented for clotted cream.  Everything is more advanced, indicated perhaps most clearly by jaunty daffodils, the first of which we saw braving the cold in early January. 

Aunt Mary's Bottom - Dorset

All Saints Church Nether Cerne - Dorset

Durdle Door - Dorset

It being late winter I was here to see predominantly winter resident species likes divers, ducks, geese and waders.  However, I was also keen to see a beautiful finch I had last seen 30 years ago in Devon, the Cirl Bunting, even if this would necessitate a bit of travelling.  Great Northern and Black Throated Divers are quite common here and can be found on any stretch of sheltered sea.  Portland Harbour provides ideal conditions and played host to several Salvonian and Black Necked Grebes, a Black Guillemot and a Great Northern when I called in.  Unfortunately the birds were too distant for photographs, bobbing up and down amongst the waves.  Some more obliging closer to Red-breasted Mergansers provided better opportunities.  Despite coming to these parts on and off all my life, I paid my first proper visit to the Ferrybridge - the point at which the Fleet is connected to the sea.  A raft of Mediterranean Gulls, some of which were close to being in summer plumage, were welcome.  I remember when this species was national rarity and yet now they can be counted at some local roosts in their high hundreds.  A fantastic white-winged gull set off with a spanking black hood and heavy red bill.  Some Brent Geese were mulling around on the far shore.  Just as was about to leave a Skylark dropped in before flying off in the direction of Portland.  What a beautiful and brave little bird.

Mediterranean Gulls - Ferrybridge

Brent Geese - Ferrybridge

Skylark - Ferrybridge

The waters of the Fleet lagoon are tidal, being filled and partially emptied by the ebb and flow of the tide under the Ferrybridge and into Portland Harbour.  The lagoon, which is 11 kilometers long, is also fed by a series of streams along its landward side meaning that the water is brackish.  As the water surges in, the ever diminishing amount of mud forces feeding birds up the Fleet and eventually into Rodden Hive.  So getting the tide right is important. Today I arrived on time but, because the day's high tide wasn't particularly high, there weren't a large number of birds to see.  A couple of Long-tailed Ducks swimming with Red-breasted Mergansers, Widgeon, Pintail and Shovellers were great to see, especially since the former tend to hide in the inaccessible Abbotsbury end of the lagoon.  On the wader front there were plenty of Redshanks and some Dunlin, some gulls, the pick of which were two Mediterranean, some Oystercatchers and a Little Egret.  Not bad, but I've seen better here.

Lesser Black Backed Gull - Rodden Hive

Red-breasted Merganser - Rodden Hive

Redshanks and Oystercatchers - Rodden Hive

Tufted Ducks and Teals - Rodden Hive

The beautiful Cirl Bunting was formally widespread throughout England but in the second half of the 20 Century began to decline drastically so that by the turn of the Century its remnant population was restricted to a narrow coastal strip in Devon.  The Cirl Bunting is mainly a Mediterranean species and is at the northern limit of its range in the UK.  Fortunately, intense conservation measures, concentrating on the introduction of less intensive farming techniques, have enabled a substantial increase in the bird's numbers.  Whilst it now numbers about 800 breeding pairs, its expansion more widely throughout Devon and more into neighbouring Cornwall and Dorset, has been frustratingly slow.  Thanks to active intervention, Cirl Buntings now breed in Cornwall, but we patiently await their return to Dorset. 

Labrador Bay RSPB reserve - south of Teignmouth in Devon

Male Cirl Bunting - Labrador Bay

Male Cirl Bunting - Labrador Bay

Female Cirl Bunting - Labrador Bay

Stepping out the car at Labrador Bay RSPB reserve, I immediately heard a Cirl Bunting signing - spring can't be too far away!  Walking into the reserve I quickly found a flock of about 40 birds feeding on seeds deliberately left in a stubble field.  The sun was out and the birds obliging flying up into trees affording wonderful views.  With them, but not amongst them, a similar sized flock of Linnets were also feeding.  One could not help have a sense of how rural Britain must have looked before the era of intensive farming, capable of supporting large flocks of formally common species.  I last saw Cirl Buntings about 20 years ago and so it was wonderful to watch this emblematic species again in its natural habitat. 

Wren - Labrador Bay

Dunnock - Labrador Bay

Linnets - Labrador Bay

Linnets - Labrador Bay

The Isle of Portland is a mythical place - reliant for many years on quarrying and the military - it is linked to the mainland by the Ferrybridge and juts 6 kilometers into the western approaches.  Its position makes it a magnet for migratory sea birds both passing its southerly tip - the Bill - and for passerines and raptors using it as a spring board for the 100 kilometer crossing to France.  Today I was accompanied by an old friend and we spent as much time catching up and making plans for the future as we did birding.  Birds today were few though our passage was livened by some smart Rock Pipits, a majestic Peregrine, some Stonechats and a small amount of sea traffic off the Bill.  It didn't matter really as I cast my eyes east and west along Dorset's spectacular coast.  In a few weeks the first Wheatears and Chiffchaffs will be making their eternal landfall before passing inland to their breeding grounds.  Today was more about reflection and reminiscing about all the wonderful times we had had on this magical island.

Rock Pipit - Portland Bill

Peregrine Falcon - Western cliffs Portland

Stonechat - Portland

Guillemot - Portland Bill

Black-necked or Slavonian Grebe - Portland Harbour

Poole Harbour is one of the largest natural harbours in the world,  It is a fantastic place for watching birds, especially in winter, as they feed on the abundant supply of fish and invertebrates within the mudflats and slat marshes.  There are dozens of locations from which to watch birds to choose from and the area includes the famous RSPB reserve of Arne - home to Dartford Warblers amongst other things.  My favourite vantage point is the Avocet Hide at Middlebere.  From here I have seen wonderful spectacles involving hundreds of Avocets, spring-time Ospreys, Hen and Marsh Harriers, raiding Peregrines and Merlins and many more species besides.  Like Rodden Hive, or indeed any coastal location, arriving just before high tide is vital.  Middlebere at low tide is hardly worth a visit.

Map extract of Poole Harbour in Dorset.

And today the tide was out - I knew it would be but I had no choice as I was travelling east towards London for the night before heading to the Continent the next morning.  Notwithstanding, I hoped to see a harrier or Merlin and of course there is always the chance of turning up something unusual.  Never was Robert Louis Stevenson's famous dictum 'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive' truer as I saw very little except for some good looking Dark-bellied Brent Geese, a solitary Canada Goose, some Curlews, Shellduck and a handful of distant Teals. Never mind, it was great just to sit snuggly in the hide, sheltered from the wind and rain reminiscing about times gone by.  As I left I could not help but notice the hawthorn leaf coming out - bright green against the monochrome late afternoon light.  A sure harbinger of spring.  

Grazing Dark-bellied Brent Geese - Middlebere

Canada Goose - Middlebere

Little Egret - Middlebere

Curlew - Middlebere

Drömling - winter and sound of silence

January is for most people in the northern hemisphere the hardest month.  The days are short and the weather cold - especially in Germany.  That said, this winter has so far been extraordinary mild save for a recent cold snap that brought snow and ice.  And so it was with some trepidation that I set off this morning for the Drömling to see what bird life I could find.  The spring and summer seasons of plenty seem a distant memory and I knew today's trip was likely to offer sparse pickings.  I approached the reserve through Kaiserwinkel and parked the car at the Schwarze Brücke - no more for me the long approach on foot.  The weather was cold - about 2 - 3C even though a weak sun was trying to break through a thin layer of high cloud.  Mercifully there was no wind.

Drömling - north east sector.

Drömling - north east sector.  A typically bleak winter scene soon to be enriched by 2 Cranes.

Drömling - north east sector.  The trees on the left hand side contained 30 - 40 Siskins.  Note also the extent of water.

And so I set off with dog in tow scurrying across the icy path.  The first thing I noticed was the quiet.  Normally the Drömling is a noisy place with Cranes trumpeting or passerines signing from nearly every bush and reed bed.  Not today.  Near silence pervaded with little evidence of life.  Quite soon I spotted some snow white blobs which increasing proximity quickly transformed into Great White Egrets - 5 of them standing conspicuously in a field presumably hoping to catch some mice or other invertebrates in the dank grass.  Much more common in winter than summer there must be some good reason that attracts them to these intemperate winter parts.  Behind them in the distance a large flock of Mute Swans were grazing on the sward.

Drömling - Great White Egret.

Drömling - Common (alas) Buzzard

Drömling - Mute Swans.

Drömling - a solitary Mute Swan closer to.

Walking on I picked up several Common Buzzards - closely checking for Rough Legged which I am yet to see here.  Other than some Blackbirds and a couple of beautiful Blue Tits there was very little - just as I had expected really!  After several minutes peaceful walking my reverie was broken by the familiar sound of some Cranes flying low across the landscape.  It is interesting to note that some spend the winter here electing to conserve their energies here where there must presumably be enough food.  In total I may have seen 5 on 2 separate occasions.  Then, scanning the bedraggled meadows, I picked up a female Hen Harrier before she quickly disappeared into the distance.  I was pleased - these are beautiful birds not often seen here.  Great to see, even if I wasn't able to photograph her.

Drömling - 2 Blue Tits.

Drömling - 2 of possibly 5 Common Cranes.

Slightly further on I heard a high pitched buzzing announcing a party of roving Siskins - 40 to 50 in total feeding I think on seeds - though I'm ashamed to say I don't know of which type of tree.  Wonderful winter birds which, though not especially difficult to see, are great fun to watch.  I never see them in the summer as there are probably dispersed deep within the forests and only engage in this type of flock activity in the winter.  Just after I had extracted my dog from an interesting wood pile, I caught a glimpse of a Great Grey Shrike bounding across the meadows.  Unfortunately, I wasn't able to locate it, but another classic winter bird -  even though they breed here.

Drömling - 1 of approximately 40 roving Siskins.

Drömling - Great Spotted Woodpecker

And so my outing came to an end with a fine view of a Great Spotted Woodpecker snuffling up and down some small trees looking for food.  Amazingly I saw no ducks who may have moved south west following the onset of our recent cold snap - most of the water here was covered with a thin layer of ice.  Nor did I see any geese who I believe frequent these parts in winter, nor any winter thrushes save a Song Thrush when I got back to the car.  Nonetheless, I was satisfied with what I had seen, adding further to my knowledge and understanding of this wonderful place.

That was the year that was

Twenty posts later and with nearly 2,000 page views but no comments - thanks I think to 'blogger.com's' annoying insistence that those wanting to leave a comment set up a Google account first - I approach the end of the year.  I wrote my first blog in April, describing my fruitless search in the Groβer Graben for Montagu's Harriers and, thereafter, my ornithological activities throughout Saxon Anhalt, Dorset and, finally this autumn, in Cyprus.  Along the way I have seen many wonderful birds and discovered some great country - the Elbe valley springs to mind.  I have in Cyprus also witnessed appalling barbarity.  Man's inhumanity to man is well-documented, but his neglect of the environment and unkindness to God's birds and beasts sometimes has to be seen to be believed - and usually all in the pursuit of money.

Barnacle Geese in Feb - Roden Hive, the Fleet, Dorset, England.

Dark-bellied Brent Geese in Feb - Roden Hive, the Fleet, Dorset, England.

I suppose I ought to start the year with Rodden Hive in Dorset on the Fleet.  This is one of those places for which the season is important.  Quiet throughout the summer, though with some interest in spring and autumn, the Fleet in winter plays host to thousands of Coots and an amazing array of ducks and geese.  This was my first winter here and so the site and its secrets were new to me.  Long-tailed Ducks are a speciality here at this time of the year and, since I missed them last year, I'll make a special effort to find them this winter.  Rodden Hive is also off the beaten track and so I usually have the place to my self.  Well worth a visit at any time throughout the winter, especially if the weather is hard.

Bonaparte's Gull (flying) - Radipole Lake, Weymouth, Dorset

Goldcrest - Radipole, Dorset

Staying in Dorset, and just up the road is Radipole Lake in the middle of Weymouth - famous in British bird watching circles as a temporary home for all sorts of rarities.  In March the reserve was graced by a Bonaparte's Gull which I was lucky enough to see.  I also managed to get close to a beautiful tiny Goldcrest which was obligingly foraging his way along the footpath.  But I suppose my Dorset highlight must have been in May when in a single day I saw a Purple Heron at Lodmoor and a female Red-footed Falcon hawking above the water meadows near Wareham.  This year I failed to find any Dartford Warblers which, being one of my favourite birds, was a bit disappointing.  Usually quite easy to find on the right habitat but I sense their numbers are low following some hard winters.

Robin - Lodmoor, Dorset

A baby Coot hoping not to be eaten by a Pike! - Lodmoor, Dorset

In terms of landscape the Elbe is hard to beat both in terms of scale and beauty.  There is simply too much to see in a single trip and I've learnt to take a longer term view in discovering its secrets.  Nevertheless my visit in June was simply fantastic in terms of what I saw.  The highlight I would have to say were Black Terns - gracefully skimming across luxuriant ponds.  And I should recall my early morning walk in Prester on the outskirts of Magdeburg - a semi-urban environment bursting with life.  Later in the summer I would retrace my tracks along the Elbe with my youngest son Max , except this time by bike.  A brilliant way of seeing the countryside if ever there was one and something I will repeat next year.

Flood plain landscape around Jericho, Elbe - note the tall grass and small lake middle right

Black Tern - Jericho, Elbe.

Two special birds that had grabbed my attention by the fact that they bred locally were Hoopoes and Bee-eaters.  I'd seen the later before in Germany but only fleetingly and so find and visit a colony less than an hour away thereby securing this most beautiful of birds as a regular local, was actually quite special.  Little did I know at the time that I would end up seeing them quite frequently as the summer progressed hawking across reed beds at Frose.  For my Hoopoe, however, I had to work quite hard.  I knew the rough location - the Orainenbaumer Heide - a huge area of heath and young forest, but not the detail and so it was with eventual relief that I came across a bird.  Next year I'll need to spend more time here in order to watch and study them better.  I should also mention the fantastic male Goshawk I saw pitch perfect against a bright blue sky.

Bee-eater - Osmarsleben.

Hoopoe - Orainenbaumer Heide.

Male Goshawk - Orainenbaumer Heide.

I suppose the highlight of my year must have been the 3 weeks I spent working for the Committee Against Bird Slaughter (CABS) in Cyprus. CABS's 'raison être' is to combat the illegal hunting of birds which, in Cyprus, is at epidemic levels.  It is assessed that over 100 million birds visit Cyprus every spring and autumn and over 2.5 million birds are killed by trappers on the island every year.  I have recently seen the CABS autumn Cyprus report which states that percentage of live trapping sites visited during the autumn has decreased, which I suppose must be good news.  Nevertheless, the practice of illegal trapping remains a significant blot on Cyprus' reputation and pressure must be maintained to reduce this barbaric activity. 

Female Blackcap or 'ambelopouri' about to be released by a CABS volunteer.

Clockwise from bottom right: a dead Ortolan Bunting, Red-backed Shrike, Wood Warbler, Blackcap, Chiffchaff, Lesser Whitethroat and Great Reed Warbler

The autumn has been quiet and, living in the middle of the central European land mass, bird migration is more difficult to note than in, Dorset where migrants concentrate in places like Portland before flying south to France.  What is always notable, however, is the passage of thousands of Cranes.  I observed my first birds at the end of August and saw my last on 27 November near Weimar passing south in a wintry sky.  The only other record of note was a probable Lesser-spotted Eagle flying south west low across the countryside east of the Harz.  Summer here passes more with a whimper than with a bang - thousands of migrants must pass through - but on a broad front and therefore largely unseen.

Migrating Cranes and an aircraft's vapour trail, near Weimar.

Winter seems hardly to arrived this year.  As I write, temperatures are in the low teens and there seems to be little chance of a white Christmas, even in the Oberharz.  In the new year I will visit the Drömling and the Wulfener Bruch near Dessau on the Elbe.  Both contain huge areas of wet meadow land and are an oasis for ducks and geese.  I am also still waiting for my Siskins, Bramblings and Hawfinches all of which visit my garden.  I think that there must still be too much food easily available and I hope it stays that way for them too.

Wulfener Bruch landscape in winter.

Before signing off, its worth mentioning some of those I didn't get round to seeing this year.  High on my list of disappointments must be Corncrakes which are locally, shall we say 'hearable', and of course Montagu's Harriers which I spent many hours looking for in vain.  Another notable exception were Honey Buzzards which breed widely but scarcely throughout the area.  I can usually count on finding a pair or two in the Harz but this year apparently not.  Finally, I really missed my Dartford Warblers this year.  Living in Germany I can only see them when visiting England and I never got round to visiting the heathland habitat on which they depend. 

So that was the year that was.   If anyone wants advice on any of the sites I have visited, please get on touch and I'd be very happy to share my secrets.  A Happy Christmas and successful New Year to you all.

Der Harz

It is the most uplifting and the most depressing of places - to paraphrase Charles Dickens.  I have known the Harz for 20 years and have seen it in all seasons and in all types of weather.  It and I have a complicated relationship.  The Harz Mountain range is about 110 kilometres long, stretching from the town of Seesen in the northwest to Eisleben in the east, and is about 35 kilometres wide.  It occupies an area of 2,226 square kilometres, and is divided into the Upper Harz (Oberharz) in the northwest, which is up to 800 m high, apart from the 1,100 m high Brocken massif, and the Lower Harz (Unterharz) in the east which is up to around 400 m high and whose plateaus are capable of supporting arable farming.



Topographical map of the Harz.  Goslar, where I live, is large red triangle at the top centre left.

A view of the Brocken massif on a fine autumnal day.

There is not a lot of information about birding in the Harz, either in literature or on the internet.  Indeed the few sites that one does come across usually encourage their reader to look for birds elsewhere!  There can be no doubt that bird watching in the Oberharz especially, can be hard work, but the Unterharz can offer much better and interesting prospects if one is prepared to persevere.  The reason for this is that the Oberharz was heavily industrialised by mining in the 18th Century and planted with coniferous plantations to support tunnelling.  The result is a monoculture environment, depressing and dark to walk through and devoid of life other than the occasional visitation by flocks of roving tits and Goldcrests.  Whilst the authorities have embarked on a process of felling and replanting with natural species of tree, we are talking about a period of renewal measured in decades not years.

Raben (Raven) Klippe near Bad Harzberg.

Winter scene above Sankt Andreasberg.

The Unterharz comprises mainly the eastern part of the Harz and its forests are characterised by beech, oak, rowan, birch and other natural indigenous species of pine.  The result, not surprisingly, is a far greater array of fauna and flora and a much more satisfying experience all round.  This region contains some stunning valleys such as the Bodetal - a gorge that can challenge the Grand Canyon (well not quite) and, in the far south east, the Silketal which can invoke, in the right weather, feelings of being lost in an everlasting arboreal wonderland.  Throughout this area there are birds a plenty including Wood Warblers, Pied Flycatchers, Wrynecks, all four species of woodpecker, Redstarts, Dippers, Honey Buzzards (widespread but scarce), Goshawks (widespread but scarce), Peregrines (20 - 30 pairs), Ravens and Black Storks (20 - 30 pairs).

My wicked (not really) stepmother Pauline, with Oscar and Max in the Bodetal.



The Ilsetal above Ilsenburg.

Winter scene above Bad Harzberg.

The Harz also plays host to some bigger beasties including, according to a Forstmiester I met, wolves.  Lynx have also been recently successfully reintroduced and can be seen in an enclosure near Bad Harzberg.  The forests also abound with deer and with wild boar which, despite their relative abundance, I've yet to encounter in 20 years of walking.  Sadly not present in these giant hills are Auehuhns or Capercaillies which are extinct despite attempts - half hearted I sense - to re-introduce them.  This is especially sad since their legacy lives on in many place names throughout the hills.  In summer a walk as high as 500 m will reveal a typical array of common species including Blackcaps, Willow Warblers and Chiffchaffs, as well as Goldcrests, most tits, including of course Crested, Siskins, Crossbills, Hawfinches, Nutcrackers and Jays.  A friend of mine recently saw a Great Grey Shrike 600 m up in early winter - the only shrike I have heard of at this altitude through Red-backed Shrikes can be found quite easily at lower altitudes. Tengmalm's Owls breed in nest boxes throughout the south though I have never sought them out.

Oberharz above Goslar.

Above Bad Harzberg.

So, there are birds to be found here but it can be hard work finding them.  Most bird watching guides recommend visiting only the Brocken plateau for transient Ring Ouzels (which I have never seen) and little else.  This is probably a reflection of the fact that life in general is pretty hard in the Harz - reflected in its poverty and remoteness - and that there are many far better places to watch birds at ground level - Frose springs to mind.  Most of these places lie on eastern rain shadow of this range where summers are generally warm and dry.  Whatever I think of the Harz, the Germans love them.  These hills and the Brocken are full of legends and feature prominently in German legend and literature, especially Heinemann and Goethe. Witches still dance on and fly around the Brocken and beautiful princesses, fleeing on foam flecked horses from terrible giants, still gallop across the hills.  This is the way the Harz should stay, steeped in legend and mystery and slowly returning to their green cloaked original state.