Category: Birds

One swallow doth not a summer make, but there are dozens to be seen around these parts now; have been for a couple of weeks at least. They’re relatively easy to photograph when they’re perched on a telegraph wire staring you out, but not so much when they’re flying over water hunting and drinking.

Barn Swallows (Hirundo rustica) at RSPB Ouse Washes 18th May 2019.

The Brood Parasite…sounds like a schlock horror video nasty from the 1980s only available under the counter from your video shop on a dodgy, copied VHS (no Betamax). Of course, it’s a biological term to describe certain species that allow another species to raise their young as their own. For the duped species, this is a real-life horror story.

On the 18th May, 2019, Mrs Sciencebase and I once more visited RSPB Ouse Washes, near Manea, Cambridgeshire, and witnessed one such brood parasite, the European Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus), as it emerged from a reedbed where there were lots of Reed Warblers, Sedge Warblers, and Reed Buntings chattering and calling.

We can only assume this was a female, recently mated having arrived with the male cuckoos from Southern Africa in the last couple of weeks. As every schoolchild knows, the Cuckoo builds no nest, instead, it lays its eggs in the nests of other birds and then abandons them, leaving the hapless warblers to incubate the Cuckoo’s egg alongside their own. When the Cuckoo hatches it will commonly nudge out any warbler eggs in the nest and leave its tiny surrogate parents to run themselves ragged feeding it and raising it as their own.

Neither the surrogates, parasitised in the truest sense of that word nor the imprinted Cuckoo chick is aware that anything is wrong with this scenario…but we do…and it is horrific. I say the adult cuckoos are unaware…but if so, why do they look so guilty?

 

The Eurasian Hobby is back over RSPB Ouse Fen (May 2019), one of 6 or 7 seen hunting on the wing. The bird’s scientific name is Falco subbuteo means “falcon below the buzzard”. But, yes, that’s where the name of the football game – Subbuteo – comes from, the inventor wanted to call it “Hobby”, but the company said that couldn’t be trademarked, so he went all cod Latin.

As you can probably tell, they fit into a sequence of falcons found in the British Isles, from largest to smallest: Peregrine > Hobby > Kestrel > Merlin. Hobbies mainly eat dragonflies on the wing and you can see them clipping off the wings and discarding everything but the insects’ bodies as the bird flies over you. I have also seen them take swifts out of the air on a couple of occasions, both midsummer above our garden with the hobby flying out of the sun towards the screaming, circling swifts high above.

Taking photos of birds on the wing is difficult at the best of times, but photographic quality is also compromised at this time of year by atmospheric disturbance (you cannot filter out the heat haze, unfortunately).

Rather pleasantly surprised to have seen a male Montagu’s Harrier, Circus pygargus recently on a day away from my desk. The bird’s altitude and the atmospheric conditions (heat haze) precluded clearer photos. It circled above me, climbing as it did so.

This is a +ID, confirmed by 2-3 other birders on Facebook from the snaps.

According to the RSPB website: The Monty is an extremely rare breeding bird in the British Isles. It is a Schedule 1 listed species and each pair has to be specially protected because its survival is precarious. A summer visitor (wintering in Africa), it seems that whereas like other Harriers, such as the Marsh Harrier it would favour marshes, over arable farmland is a more likely place to see them.

The “song” of the Cetti’s Warbler (Cettia cetti) is anything but a warble, but what’s a warbler anyway? It’s a shockingly loud call for such a tiny bird; listen here. Been hearing a lot of them around RSPB Ouse Fen over the last few weeks and caught sight of a few. Also heard at least one or two during a walk around NT Wicken Fen on 26th April 2019, then heading back to the car via one of the hides thought we’d have a quick look to see if we could see the Reed Warblers (we could hear their raucous, but less tuneful calls from the reeds)…a Cetti’s called out and darted into the corner of the pond and scuttled around among the reeds search out titbits from the water.

After a couple of minutes, it grappled its way up a reed from water level, called again, and then darted out of sight. I fired off a couple of reels of film (actually 60 shots on a digital camera) in an attempt to get one of this furtive fellow feeding. The contact sheet did not look promising…

A closer inspection, cropping into the area where the warbler was, turned up a few almost shots…see above and below

Many readers will perhaps have heard the music hall song “My Old Man (Said Follow the Van)” by Fred W. Leigh and Charles Collins and made popular just after The Great War by singer Marie Lloyd (who never actually recorded it). The song contains the lyric:

I walked behind wiv me old cock linnet.

The “cock linnet” mentioned is the male of the passerine bird species Linaria cannabina (previously known as Carduelis cannabina until DNA analysis separated it from the genus that carries the likes of the Goldfinch, Carduelis carduelis). Captive songbirds were a favourite of all classes for centuries and certainly at the time of the writing of this song may well have been a favoured pet of a Cockney housewife.

The male of the species takes on a rather suggestive blush to its breast when in its mating plumage at the height of spring. The allusion to the male member being rather obvious and commented upon in several sources including the excellent “The Red Canary: The Story of the First Genetically Engineered Animal” by Tim Birkhead:

It’s always amusing to hear someone say “there’s not much about” when you’re working your way through a nature reserve. Depends on what you mean by not much…I only saw the following at RSPB Ouse Fen this morning:

Willow Warbler
Chiffchaff
White Throat
Blackcap, Swallow
Sandmartins
Chaffinch
House Sparrow
Rook
Carrion Crow

Green Woodpecker
Buzzard
Marsh Harrier
Kestrel
Bittern
Great Black-backed Gull
Lesser Black-backed Gull
Black-headed Gull
Mallard

Tufted Duck
Greylag Geese (and goslings)
Mute Swan
Grey Heron
Little Egret
Cormorant
Coot
Wigeon
Moorhen
Wood Pigeon
Stock Dove
Bearded Reedling
Reed Bunting
Linnet
Meadow Pipit
Snipe
Green Sandpiper
Skylark
Goldfinch
Sedge Warbler
Cetti’s Warbler

Mayfly
Hoverfly
European Peacock
Small Tortoiseshell
Brimstone
Small White
Large White
Ladybird
Various Bumblebees, flies, and other flying insects

I think that’s all…not much about at all. Admittedly, the person who said it was cycling…

This blog post isn’t about some supernatural Geordie, rather a species of owl that haunts the northern parts of the Americas and Eurasia- the Great Grey Owl (Strix nebulosa). It’s the largest species of owl we have, by length, although ignore the feathers and it isn’t quite so impressive looking, but then which bird is? Also known as the cinereous owl, spectral owl, Lapland owl, spruce owl, bearded owl, and sooty owl.

The sub-species S. n. nebulosa flies from central Alaska eastward across Canada to south-western Quebec, and south to northern California, northern Idaho, western Montana, Wyoming and north-eastern Minnesota. S. n. lapponica can be found in Fennoscandia through Siberia to Sakhalin and Kamchatka Krai to Lithuania, Lake Baikal, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, Manchuria and north-eastern China.