Category: Birds

People often tell me they don’t know what that bird is they can hear singing or calling but cannot see. There’s an international crowd-sourced project called Xeno Canto that has the calls and songs of almost every bird around the world. But, for local friends and family who might want to know what they can hear in the gardens, here’s a small selection of some of the more likely in England:

Chaffinch

Greenfinch

Robin

Blackbird

Great Tit

Blue Tit

Dunnock

Wood Pigeon

Collared Dove

Starling

House Sparrow

Most of these birds will have a song and a call, some of them seem to improvise or do abbreviated versions of their songs and calls. The sound files you can listen to above are just a starting point for learning how to identify birds you might hear in your garden and then associate them with a visual ID.

As regular Sciencebase readers will be well aware, I often work from my laptop in the garden in the summer time, when the weather is fine…I reach right up and grab a camera sometimes…

Showing well today, a rather bold Wren, Troglodytes troglodytes, munching on grubs and caterpillars from various bushes and not worrying too much about my presence. I’ve been making efforts to let the garden go a bit wild, without it simply turning into a couch grass, thistle, and nestle patch. Lots of wildflower seeds are in, the pond is buzzing. Red Valerian and Green Alkanet are thriving, foxgloves are about to burst into bloom (hopefully). There are bird seed (mixed, sunflower, nyjer) and fat (suet) feeders aplenty.

Fans of the Facebook page may have seen the various Live broadcasts I’ve done in the “Watch” series, all very tongue in cheek and an excuse for me to broadcast some of my music or offer some relaxing video – there’s been PondWatch, LawnWatch, FeederWatch, and the fascinating ShedWatch.

Today, I once more put my phone on a tripod and pointed it at a feeder hanging in our apple tree for SuetWatch. Robins, Erithacus rubecula, have been pecking at this all week. I hoped to catch them on video. I don’t think I did, but when I went to terminate the video I noticed for the first time a nest in an old homemade nest box hanging on the shed. I wondered whether it was the Robins, so pointed the phone camera there and stepped back so as not to disturb the birds.

A quick scan through the video revealed a Dunnock, Prunella modularis, sitting on top of it at one point, so perhaps most likely that bird’s nest rather than that of the Robin.

The footage is awful and the bird activity so brief I won’t bother posting it. But, do take a look at my Facebook as there will most likely be more in the Watch series coming soon…

Dave Bradley on Facebook here.

I mentioned noc migging at the end of last year as something I planned to do in the spring of 2020. “Nocmig” or Night flight call (NFC) recording as the Americans know it, is basically making an audio (or indeed video) recording of the sky above you at night with the aim of plucking from the audio the calls of birds flying overhead as they migrate.

We’re coming into the main migratory season in the UK with a few of our summer visitors already here, many more heading this way and crossing the Iberian Peninsula and other parts of the continent lying between their winter holiday homes further south and The British Isles. Of course, the wintering birds are also returning to their summer roosts and mating grounds further north, in the far reaches of Scotland, Scandinavia, Siberia, and The Arctic.

So…I just need to waterproof a microphone to stick out of the window and setup some audio recording software to run overnight. I’ll use my music software as it has lots of options for cleaning up the sound. With a “tape” in hand it can either be scrolled manually looking for bursts of sound in the waveform and these sampled out to be analysed spectrally or it fed into a second bit of software such as a spectrogram to filter out barking dogs and vehicles and other non-avian noises. Cornell University then has an app – Raven – that can take the cropped analysis and identify the birds from their calls in your recording.

I’ll keep you posted…

Back in the pre-covid good old days, when you could take a countryside or woodland walk and chat to others on the highways and byways, the conversation would almost always turn to birds, especially if one of you were carrying a set of bins or a camera with a big lens.

If you reveal any sort of knowledge about which bird is which, people are even more surprised if you know which call or song you can here. I’ve not counted how many birds I recognise from their songs and calls but a few of the ones I know for definite would be: Blackbird, Robin, Dunnock, Wren, Song and Mistle Thrush, Magpie, Jay, Rook, Raven, Carrion Crow, Jackdaw, Blue, Great, and Long-tailed Tit, Buzzard, Goldcrest, Treecreeper, Yellowhammer, White Throat, Black Cap, Chiff Chaff, Reed Warbler, Reed Bunting, Bearded Reedling, Green and Great Spotted Woodpecker…I’ll stop now…

Anyway, there’s a crowdsourced website called Xeno-Canto where you can hear recordings of the calls and songs of birds from around the world.

But, as we’re all at home now, here’s a selection you might hear from an open window in your self-isolation.

Chaffinch – song, call

Blackbird – song, alarm call

Song Thrush – song

Robin – song, call

Dunnock – song, call

Wren – song

Great Tit – song

Chiffchaff – song

You can find the complete tick list for our garden birding here.

UPDATE: 20:45, same day – The National Trust has issued a new statement just hours after I posted this, no longer allowing access to their land other than the public places they manage.

UPDATE: March 2020. Oh, the irony. I wrote this article for our village newsletter long before the Covid-19 pandemic had arisen. Since then, so much has changed and so many places are shut down. The countryside is still open, of course.

So, if you’re not self-isolating, you’re not in a vulnerable group, and you’re practicing social distancing, there are still plenty of places to visit to see the wildlife. The very wildlife that is entirely unaware of humanity’s woes and may benefit in some way from falling pollution levels through lower numbers of flights and other activities.

Anyway, on with the original newsletter report:

I occasionally mention sightings of interesting bird species from places other than in and around Cottenham itself. It is possible, nay probable, that some readers might not know about other patches they might visit that are just a short hop from the village. Most, I’d admit are not within a short walk, but some are accessible by bicycle and certainly by car. I’ll leave readers to plot their own route and decide on their means of transport if they fancy visiting.

Among the more well-known spots is the National Trust’s Wicken Fen, which is always worth a visit, although it can get busy, which means less chance of seeing birds closeup. They usually have a noticeboard listing sightings, but I think that’s their overall tick-list and chances of seeing a range of species will depend on time of day, time of year, and the weather. There are commonly marsh harriers quartering over the parts farthest from the visitor centre, as well as some hen harriers. But, your mileage will vary.

You will be almost certain to see a buzzard or a kestrel, but they’re quite common over much of our local countryside. In the summer months you might catch sight of a hobby catching and eating dragonflies on the wing. Hobbies are a falcon that resembles the peregrine and the kestrel but sits, in size between the two, it’s a summer visitor. There are lots of Reed Buntings at the Fen and in the summer, you’ll likely see and hear various warblers, including reed warbler, sedge warbler, white throat, and others.

Head out beyond Wicken itself to Adventurer’s Fen and Burwell and Tubney Fens. If you want to see the short-eared owls that have taken to Burwell Fen and mentioned in my previous report, you will probably have to wait until next winter when they come back from their far-north breeding grounds. But, you will see barn owls anywhere around these fens at dusk on a good day. Oh, and on your way back don’t forget Kingfisher Bridge Nature Reserve, which has some interesting species as well as a couple of constructed nesting sites to attract sand martins.

There are plenty of fens around and plenty of lakes, commonly ex-gravel pits that play host to quite a range of species, with the odd rarity turning up every now and then. Check the lakes and land of RSPB Ouse Fen (coming from either the Needingworth or Over entrances) and if you’re keen-eyed you will almost undoubtedly see any of the above depending, again, depending on conditions and time of year. There are often snipe and green sandpipers to be spotted at the Reedbed Trail side of the reserve (Over) and a couple of pockets of bearded reedlings (formerly known as bearded tits). That species is quite shy and does not like the wind much, but if you hear a pinging type call from the reeds watch out for this unique species darting about, the males sporting their black sideburns on a grey face.

Great white egret, little egret, and grey heron frequent this area too and you might hear booming bitterns in the mating season or if you’re lucky spot one taking a short flight between nestling areas of the reedbeds. As mentioned in an earlier report, occasionally cranes will fly high over this, and other reserves, and in the summer months on a hot day replete with lots of dragonflies you might see half a dozen, if not more, hobbies.

On the Needingworth side and other areas waders, gulls, terns (in the summer, including black terns) are all keen on the feeding here. At the time of writing there were numerous smew on one lake as well as a plethora of more common waterfowl such as tufted duck and wigeon. Cormorants are frequent flyers here too and you will often see them on the water’s edge perched and drying off their wet wings in the classic pose of this sooty species.

So, where else might you visit for a bit of bird watching? RSPB Fen Drayton (which we used to known as Swavesey Lakes) has a similar profile to Ouse Fen but often has good-sized starling murmurations on winter dusks. NT Anglesey Abbey and Wimpole Hall are perhaps less for bird watching than tree and flower watching, but there are woodpeckers, treecreepers, hawfinches (sometimes at Wimpole), nuthatches, and the usual range of what we might call “garden birds” to see there, but in a more natural habitat than the garden. Milton Country Park at quiet times is also as good a place as any for a quick avian detour It has plenty of different types of gull and several kingfishers, which you might see darting back and forth across a lake to a central island. Rarities do turn up, such dunlins, goosander, some of the more obscure warblers, and others.

As I’ve hopefully helped you note in previous reports you don’t have to go far from your home in Cottenham to see any of dozens of species of bird. Check the back issues for more info on local warblers, owls, cranes, raptors, garden birds, and more.

A bit of social distancing, walking, and birding in the Tyne Valley:

Birds seen during a couple of days of walking up and down each bank of the river:

Blackbird, Bullfinch, Buzzard, Chaffinch, Chiff Chaff (heard), Collared Dove, Cormorant,  Crow (Carrion),  Dove (Stock), Dunnock, Fieldfare, Goldcrest (heard), Goldfinch, Goosander, Gulls – Black headed, Herring, Lesser Black-backed, Heron, Jackdaw, Jay, Kestrel, Kittiwakes, Magpie, Mallard, Oystercatcher, Redwing, Robin, Rook, Swan – Mute and Whooper, Tit – Blue , Coal, Great – Wagtail – Gray and Pied – Wood pigeon, Wren, Yellowhammer.

Final morning along the river in Newcastle itself observing the Kittiwakes that nest and breed on the Tyne Bridge itself, this is essentially an inland colony, and uniquely nesting that fathest inland of any colony of this species anywhere in the world.

TL:DR – There are lots of regional slang names for the House Sparrow.

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Do you have a local word for Passer domesticus, the House Sparrow? Where I grew up in the North East of England we called them Spuggies, I hear from a Shropshire lad that it’s a common nickname for this species in that part of the country too. They’re also sometimes simply called spugs in Northern England. In the South P. domesticus is known as a sparr, sparrer (or Cockney sparrar), spadger (Northern Ireland too), spadgick, and phip or philip. That latter one is intriguing.

In Scotland, they’re often known as a spur or sprig (also Spriggies after a Mr Sprigg, apparently, that sounds unlikely given spriggies sounds like a dialact variation on spuggies). One contact on twitter (hahah!) said that his father who grew up in North Lanarkshire called them speugs, pronounced “spee-ugs”.

It’s very difficult to discern the etymology of these nicknames some sources cite spadger as originating in Leeds in the North rather than the South of England. But just as nicknames for games and people often arise with -er on the end. Bradders, was an occasional nickname for me as a bairn (child). Soccer is short for association football as Rugger is short for Rugby Football. Sparrow perhaps became sparrah, spugger, spuggie…

The same species is often called an English Sparrow in North America where its nicknames are commonly spatzie or spotsie, from the German Spatz. Australians might know the immigrant species as a Spag or Spoggie. And, perhaps less common Sprog or Sproggy and even spridgy or spudgy.

There are others: spyng, spurdie (from The Orkneys), chummy, craff, hoosie, row-dow, thatch sparrow, tile sparrow, and eave sparrow. (Cited here).

In Dutch, the species is known as a mus, or more specifically huismus, but that’s the official common name not a nickname. Spatz in German.

Reader Steve E emailed to tell us that in East London sparrows are often known as squidgers.

In Stephen Rutt’s second book, Wintering, we follow him on a journey around the British Isles to find the elusive species and sub-species of what might at first light seem a rather dull and innocuous class of birds, the geese. The geese, you say? As in “what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander”? What could be more interesting?

Well, hang fire, Rutt’s tale takes back through mediaeval droves to the ancient Greeks and the ancient Egyptians even, by way of the marshlands and reedy wetlands of Suffolk, Northumberland, and the wide rivers of the Scottish borderlands. It also takes us back and forth across oceans to Scandinavia for the geese have been with us a long, long time and are an integral part of British history in ways you cannot imagine, they are in historical festive diet, and embedded in our folklore.

Rutt’s poetic prose tells tale of Beans and Barnacles, of Canada, and Brent and Brant. He talks of Pink-foots of Greylags, and White-fronts. He writes with an empathy and an enthusiasm that has grown in him and grows in us the reader with each waft of the figurative quill. It’s a tale of chasing, of tracking, of falling in love with place and nature. A tale of missed opportunity and the luckiest of finds.