There is an ongoing Bohemian Waxwing irruption in the UK with hundreds, if not thousands, of this most northerly species of bird having headed south in search of food over the last couple of months. I heard some flying over our house in November, but finally saw a tiny flock of four feeding on rowan trees outside somebody’s house opposite the primary school in the Cambridgeshire village of Coton. I got some nice photos but it was a dull day, so it was lovely to have a sunny New Year’s Day and to know that some had arrived to feed on rowans next to the railway station in another nearby village, Great Shelford.
We’d actually tried to see them them week before and noted a flock of about 20 in flight heading away from the station. But, on New Year’s Day, there were 11 glowering from the tall trees next to the railway station. They were plucking ivy berries from the plants growing on those trees but because there were so many birders, twitchers, and toggers near their favoured rowans, the birds had to choose their moments carefully to fly in and snatch a few berries in very brief bursts of feeding activity.
Waxwings head south from Scandinavia when the food supply falls short, usually in large numbers when they’ve had a good breeding season, and there’s simply not enough berries to go round. Each bird can eat hundreds of berries each day. Hence the irruptions. I check BirdGuides most days and they are still present in our neck of the woods in good-sized flocks that come and go. Next decent sunny day, I will head out to track down the closest flock. It’d be wonderful if they turned up in our village again (there was one at the start of the year).
A few natural highlights from another year of trying to get a perfect wildlife snap! You can find the photos I took of these highlights littered around the Sciencebase website, in my Imaging Storm galleries, on my Instagram and Mastodon.
We started the year on the North Norfolk coast as usual, with Pink-footed Geese etc at Wells, and Shorelarks, Snow Buntings, and a White-tailed Eagle at Holkham, and various other sightings of avian life elsewhere on our walks.
Soon after we got home there was an alert for a relative rarity and so I saw a couple of Smew at Meadowlane Pits, St Ives. Later that month, Mrs Sciencebase and I went to NT Burwell Fen for the Short-eared Owls. I wrote about processing my SEO photo earlier in the year, you may recall. If I remember rightly there was just one at that time but at least a couple of Barn Owls. There were seven or so when I went back to Burwell Fen in November, also saw one of the pair of Little Owl, and on my way home, a Merlin flew across the footpath in front of me, calling all the while.
Lots of Red Kites still hanging around the A10 dump viewed from Long Drove, Cottenham. They peaked at between 40 and 50 at the end of 2022, although my record count of them among the Long Drove hedgerows and trees behind the dump was 26, which is still amazing for this part of the world and testament to how well this species, once extinct in the UK, is now doing. Last time I checked there were a dozen or so, early December.
Mrs Sciencebase and I had made another visit to Norfolk in February for an early-morning Wader Spectacular at RSPB Snettisham. It was dark and drizzly when we got up, but worth the effort to see the thousands, if not tens of thousands, of Knot, countless Oystercatcher, lots of Avocet etc doing their thing as the high tide peaked. Spectacular.
Then, in March, I suffered an injury, which precluded any driving, cycling, or walking for several weeks. Moreover, that injury, coupled with bad weather, did nothing much for my getting outdoors and exploring nature. However, closer to home, our son counted 34 frogs in and around our pond one night and we had lots of frogspawn again this year. Plenty of damselflies used the pond over the summer and some dragonflies too. Incredibly, one morning, stuck in the house, I saw a Spoonbill fly up the street, which was quite astonishing. At the time, there had been reports of one south of us that ended up on a reserve north of us.
I got a decent shot of a Green Hairstreak at the local Les King Wood, which later in the year won me an award. We also had some butterfly species in the back garden that I’ve not seen in the garden before, notably Common Blue and Small Copper.
We saw our first Choughs on a trip to Anglesey in May as well as Guillemots, Fulmars, Kittiwakes, Razorbills, a couple of Puffins and an egg-stealing Raven.
The weather wasn’t great during the main butterfly season, but I still managed to catch sight of Black Hairstreak, Purple Hairstreak, and Purple Emperor again. Ticked just one new butterfly species this year, despite efforts to find one or two others off our local patch, that was Dingy Skipper at Devil’s Dyke, Newmarket. In the previous two butterflying seasons, I’d added 5 or 6 each year to my “tick list” and found new colonies, previously unreported, of a couple of hairstreak species. The White-letter and Purple were again present in Rampton Spinney too.
I headed to Magog Down nature reserve at what I hoped would be the height of the Small Blue butterfly season and saw dozens and dozens of these dainty little creatures. Many of them landed on camera and bag and coat and trousers while I was trying to photograph their activities among the wildflower meadows there! My one or two trips to Trumpington Meadows this year were relatively fruitless. See also the Edwards’ Wood in Dry Drayton, quite a few Marbled White there again this year though.
Mrs Sciencebase and I headed back to North Norfolk for a camping trip in Stiffkey where I did a bit of toilet-block mothing and saw my first Beautiful China-mark and Marbled Brown moths. We also camped much more locally near RSPB Ouse Fen this year and had early morning Bittern but little else. Cambridge Folk Festival this year had us camping under a Horse Chestnut tree and seeing dozens of Horse Chestnut Leaf-miner moth, which I’d seen in the garden once or twice this season.
While we were staying in Stiffkey we headed to Trimingham where Bee-eaters were attempting to nest and breed in a disused quarry. We had good views of them sporadically over the course of an hour or two.
First sighting of an Orange Conch micro moth at Les King Wood. Also saw Small Eggar larval nest, Brampton Wood. Brassy Longhorns once more on Cottenham Lode. It’s such a shame that even after my eco efforts the Environment Agency still feels the need to hack back the lode banks and destroy the flourishing wildflowers on the upper part of the slope so early in the season.
Another owl sighting was a Tawny Owl that flew out in front of us on the High Street in the village as we cycled home at dusk from choir rehearsal one evening. We heard Tawny Owls on the village green, but also in our neighbours’ gardens on several occasions in the late summer and into the autumn. Little Owl also heard occasionally somewhere on the village green after dark.
I took part in a mothing morning at Coton Orchard in the summer, which was very interesting. That did mean I missed out on a butterflying event at Chippenham Fen. So I headed there the day after and ticked Scarlet Tiger moth and Silver Barred (although I only have photographic evidence of the former).
2022 was an irruption year for Clouded Yellow but we had to go overseas, Cala’n Porter on Menorca specifically to see them this year. While we were there we also saw Cleopatra, Swallowtail, and possibly Two-tail Pasha, an African species of Blue butterfly in numbers. Also Pine Processionary moth after the rains of our final night in the hotel. A highlight was perhaps Booted Eagle flying low over our hotel, Egyptian Vultures at a beautiful cove we walked miles to and swam at. There were also lots of Pied Flycatcher, Shrike, and Black Redstart on an early morning walk, and numerous Blue Rock Thrush at the aforementioned cove.
Our next trip involved a short stop at rellies, who were not surprisingly incensed by an Indian Meal Moth infestation in their home. That stopover was on the way to Dorset and Corfe Castle. We saw Sika Deer again at RSPB Arne as well as Osprey, but no White-tailed Eagles there this year. We did catch sight of a lot of Red Squirrels and dozens of Spoonbill on Brownsea Island on a Poole Harbour trip. I also did a bit of mothing in the courtyard garden at our Corfe Castle holiday cottage and recorded my first Autumnal Rustic, Feathered Ranunculus, Heath Rustic, and Horse Chestnut moth there.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch. I’ve recorded well over 8000 moth specimens in our back garden in 2023 of 324 species. 44 of those were new for the garden this year and included some of the most wonderful vernacular names for micro and macro moths: Acer Sober, Alder Signal, Birch Conch, Blackthorn Slender, Breckland Plume, Brindled Shoot, Bud Moth, Bordered Carl, Common Cosmet, Common Slender, Corn Moth, Cypress Groundling, Dark-barred Twist, Dark Pin Knot-horn, Dusky Groundling, Early Oak-piercer, Ermine Knot-horn, Feathered Bright, Fruitlet Mining Tortrix, Fulvous Clothes Moth, Leopard Moth, Lesser Tawny Tubic, Little Grass-veneer, Horse Chestnut Leaf-miner, Mallow Groundling, Marbled Orchard Tortrix, Netted Argent, Northern Deep-brown Dart, Pale-backed Clothes Moth, Pale-streak Grass-veneer, Pine Leaf-mining Moth, Pine Marble, Pointed Groundling, Poplar Kitten, Red-brindled Dwarf, Red Chestnut, Ruddy Flat-body, Small Wainscot, Smoky-barred Marble, Spruce Knot-horn, Strawberry Tortrix, Thatch Groundling etc.
Late November, we knew there were a few Short-eared Owls (perhaps) five at NT Burwell Fen. It’s only 20 minutes drive from here, so we headed out on a Monday lumchtime with a picnic. Got there just after 1pm, 5 or 6 Shorties were up and at it by about 2:30pm. The light was pretty much gone by about 3:15pm. My usual feeling is that these birds seem to be most active about an hour before sunset, but it felt like sunset happened an hour early. The various photographers hanging around and complaining that there were too many people there reminded me of a comment someone made about how it’s “all the bloody tourists” that spoil it for them when they go travelling!
Towards the end of November, I was picking up the sound of an occasional Waxwing flying over the house (audio birding with the Merlin app) and at the same time, the birding reports were heralding the arrival of small flocks reaching England. As I update this, 24th December 2023, I can report that I’ve visited three local spots that have had reports of Waxwing and have seen four feeding on rowan trees opposite Coton primary school. Those flocks have moved on, but others seem to be coming in, there’s plenty of time this winter to catch sight of Waxwing again. I’ve written about the interesting places where you might see Waxwing before. In addition, I know there are lots in the North East, a very large flock of 150+ in Jesmond, numerous on the Norfolk coast, and at least one flock of 70+ in Norwich. There were early reports of flocks of 500+ in Scotland.
Anyway, I’m hoping for a better year in terms of improved mobility in 2024 and given better weather and the opportunity to make the most of the butterfly and birding seasons, I will hopefully have some new wildlife to show you this time next year!
I was chuffed to bits to catch up with these delightful winter visitors not 20 minutes from home. There were just 4 of the 20+ that had been showing an hour or so before I arrived #waxwings.
There are two four flocks local to Cambridge, possibly more. Their preference is for Rowan berries so anywhere you see those, you might see Waxwings. B&Q car parks, bus stations, hospitals etc etc. See my previous post on this specific topic.
Given that it seems we are definitely seeing an irruption winter with sightings all across the UK and some relatively large flocks showing up, chances of catching sight of them are fairly high.
They tend to gather at the tops of tall trees, occasionally calling “trrrreeee, trrrreee, trreeeee” and then dropping down to feast on the berries. They can quickly strip even the most fecund of Rowan trees before moving on, leaving little for the resident blackbirds or any incoming Fieldfares or Redwings (also winter visitors, but thrushes). In the photo below you can perhaps see that the bird’s tongue appears to be barbed. If it is, then that is presumably an adaptation for being able to grab these berries so efficiently. Not how many “ends” on those twigs are missing a berry!
I hadn’t had a chance to see any since early in 2017, which i think was the previous irruption year.
Word on the birding street is that this winter is going to be bright for lovers of one of our winter visitors – the Waxwing, Bombycilla garrulus. This bird is more formally known as the Bohemian Waxwing as opposed to the American bird, the Cedar Waxwing, B. cedrorum. There were quite a few sightings early on in Scotland as these birds that spend the summer much further north than that began to head south.
Sightings in England have been on the rise as of late November, early December 2023. The nearest relatively large flock for me is in Norwich. Too far for me to make that trip just for the birds. However, word went out that a solitary bird was in trees next to the recreation ground in a village just up the road, Stretham. Usually, the flocks tend to congregate in places with large plantings of berry-laden trees, like rowans, such as supermarket car parks, transport hubs and service stations, as I’ve mentioned before.
It wasn’t such a long twitch to head to Stretham from here to have a look for the bird. I scanned every tree in the vicinity, took a long walk around the village scouting out rowans and cherry trees to no avail.
I didn’t see the Waxwing. I dipped out, as birders say (check out my tongue-in-beak birding glossary for definitions of such terms).
However, I had the Merlin app running on my phone all the while for audio birding, you might say. There was the off-chance that it would pick up the Waxwing calling and I might be able to find it. But, unfortunately, I didn’t. I heard various birds as did the app: Carrion Crow, Collared Dove, Common Pheasant, Common Starling, Eurasian Blue Tit, Eurasian Jackdaw, Eurasian Skylark, European Greenfinch, European Robin, Great Tit, House Sparrow, Long-tailed Tit, Meadow Pipit, Redwing, Rook. All of these birds are quite likely in the area.
The app, however, also claimed to have heard a Hooded Crow, but they are rather rare this far south and I haven’t seen one mentioned in Cambridgeshire for several years. So, I suspect it was a misidentified Carrion Crow call.
Where is the best place to catch sight of one of the most beautiful of winter visitors, when it comes to birds? The Bohemian Waxwing, Bombycilla garrulus.
You might imagine it would be some delightful hill or vale, a nature reserve, or perhaps a remote woodland. Well, that’s not the case. This distinctive species heads south to the UK when it gets too cold for it in northern parts and when the supply of berries on which it feeds dries up. As of December 2023, it seems like we are in the middle of an irruption of these birds with relatively large numbers turning up in all sorts of places right across the UK.
Best places to see them are where there are lots of trees with lots of berries, rowans and other species. They seem to like to observe their “feeding station” from on high, so if there are other taller trees, like poplar and ash overlooking the rowans, all the better, but tall lamp posts might do just as well as a perch. So, where might those places be? Well, town planners and architects like to put these attractive trees on trading estates, retail parks, next to bus stops and bus stations, science parks, road junctions, brickyards, city parks, pub beer gardens, service stations, school playing fields, supermarket car parks and the like! If you’re very lucky and have a decent feast for them, you might even get them in your garden.
Just scanning the Birdguides page for recent sightings during this wonderful 23/24 winter irruption of Boho Wx, here are some of the sites:
Tram stop, Didsbury
Quarry, Flintshire
Churchyard, Aldermaston
Cemetery, Romsey
Car park, Garforth
Road junction, Wharfedale
Canal towpath, Aylstone
Road junction, Skipton
Cobbler’s Walk, Bushy Park, London
Car park, Rodborough
Road junction, Leuchars
Road junction, Colchester
Road junction, East Hunsbury
Community centre, Watford
Pub, Tonbridge
Pub, Chafford Hundred
Retail park, Middlesborough
Road bypass, Nescliffe Hill
High School, Earlston
Roundabout, Maresfield
Caravan park, Fife
Airbase, Brize Norton
Road junction, Waltham Cross
Historical building, Rodborough
Car showroom, Elgin
Cricket club, Long Hanborough
Shop, Hailsham
Station car park, Merstham
Roundabout, Thringstone
Nature reserve car park, Hesketh
Birds have incredible visual systems. This is especially true of the birds of prey, the raptors, which includes the hawks, falcons, eagles, buzzards, harriers, owls, and others.
Unlike many other types of birds, the raptors have binocular vision, their eyes face forward, like ours, which means they have a 3D view of the world ahead of them. This allows them to pinpoint prey incredibly well even from great distances as is the case with the Peregrine Falcon. That species, and others, also have two fovea, the most sensitive regions of the light-sensitive retinas at the back of their eyes. They use one for homing in on prey from a distance but switch to other for greater precision as they get closer to their prey. There are many other adaptations in raptor vision.
I was photographing a Red Kite recently when I noticed one such adaptation that I hadn’t seen before. The bird was perched atop a conifer and I approached slowly to get a relatively close view without disturbing it. It ignored me to begin with and I got a nice photo of it staring out of the surrounding farmland.
I took a burst of photos and in one when the bird had turned to stare at me on the ground I could see that half of its face was in sunlight, the other half in the shadow of its beak. If you look closely at my photo, you can see that the pupil of its right eye, the one in the sunlight, is smaller, while the one in shadow is larger. The bird is adjusting pupil size independently depending on how much light is reaching the eyes. This is not something that we humans can do. If one eye is in the light and the other the dark, both pupils will still be the same size.
This is a remarkable adaptation – independent pupil control or pupil asymmetry, also known as anisocoria. It allows many birds to finely adjust the size and shape of each pupil. Anisocoria is a general term for having pupils of different size. Famously, musician David Bowie had a fully dilated left eye pupil having sustained an injury to that eye as a youth. My late mother had a viral infection when she was middle-aged that also left her with an unresponsive, and almost fully dilated pupil in one eye. Apparently, one in five people have anisocoria, but in raptors its a positive trait rather than a problem.
This independent pupil control serves various purposes. One key advantage is the regulation of light entering each eye independently, optimizing vision in different lighting conditions. The ability to control each pupil independently aids in maintaining a stable image on the retina, crucial during activities like flying or hunting, where motion is involved.
From an optics point of view, photographers know that a larger aperture on their camera, which is equivalent to the pupil being more dilated in the eye means more light can reach the sensor or film, analogously to reaching the retina. But, this comes at the cost of a shorter depth of field. So, if the camera or eye is focused on a subject, then much of what is closer or further from this focus point will be out of focus or blurred. Make the aperture smaller and there is less light entering camera or eye, but the depth of field is greater.
Another adaptation that many more bird species have is a third eyelid. This is known technically as a nictitating membrane, it lies beneath the upper and lower eyelid and can sweep across the eye independently of the outer two lids. It has usually transparenty or semi-transparent. It has various purposes, fundamentally it acts as a protective layer that closes over the eye when a bird is feeding chicks or killing prey. It can also protect the eye from glare or allow a diving bird to enter the water without being temporarily blind but without the risk of damage from the impact or, again, impact with its prey or objects hidden from view under the water.
One of my Red Kites (there were a dozen around the patch on the day) obliged with a quick view of its nictitating membranes among the burst of photos I took.
I have previously talked about the pupils of another type of bird, the Wood Pigeon, Columba palumbus. In this species, the shape of the pupil seems unusually asymmetric, but this is an illusion due to the presence of a portion of pigment in the eye adjacent to the bird’s pupils.
Broadly speaking, birders are avian enthusiasts, people interesting in seeing birds. Sometimes birders are twitchers, they like to see a bird so they can “tick” that species off a list, often it involves travelling far from their patch to see a species new to them. Twitchers are often not birders, they’re more akin to collectors, but aren’t necessarily interested in the birds per se. Then there are people with cameras who are also birders, twitchers, or both. Birders and twitchers often refer to these birding photographers as toggers, it’s a rather derogatory word.
Now, if a bird of interest shows up on a patch, the Short-eared Owl for instance, several of which we see out on the Cambridgeshire Fens in winter, then birders, twitchers, and toggers, and every permutation thereof, will generally hear about it and head for the patch, to get a look at the bird through their binoculars, and scopes, to tick their list, and to get that perfect photo.
Often the groups overlap, especially on a small patch, or where there’s a good vantage point. There’s often some sneering among the snobbish members of whichever group who see their particular hobby as being the more righteous.
None of these hobbies have any real claim to righteousness, all of us who indulge are impinging in some way on the wild patch that the birds have chosen to inhabit however temporarily. The presence of humans may well be disrupting the birds’ normal behaviour. So, it’s interesting to hear different people complain about the presence of members of the other groups of enthusiasts if they perceive the activity of the others as being more detrimental to the birds and the environment than their own activity. There is an argument to say that people should leave the wild to the wildlife.
One comment I read on a birding group recently was lamenting the number of people who had turned up at one of our local Cambridgeshire Fens to see and photograph the aforementioned Short-eared Owls (Shorties or SEOs). They said, apparently in all seriousness while lugging their scope up and down the Fen, that all these toggers running around were agitating the birds and making the place like a theme park. They asked the question: “How many photos of one bird do they need?”
Well, without getting into the art and craft of bird photography and why you might need to take more than one photograph, I wonder how they perceive their own position in terms of simply looking at the bird…surely the question might be asked of them “How many times do you need to look at one bird?”
Anyway, I personally feel that I’m just a bird enthusiast with a camera. I don’t think of myself as a proper birder, I don’t know enough. I’m not a twitcher, I’ve rarely “twitched” a species (successfully the European Roller that turned up not far from here, the European Bee-eaters in Norfolk when we were visiting, and the Black-browed Albatross that we failed to see at Bempton Cliffs). And, what photographer would call themselves a “togger”?
Enthusiasts and hobbyists of all creeds need to get over themselves, get over their self-righteousness. They need to not start this kind of argument on a public forum for the sake of assuaging what is probably their own guilt about their hobby and whether it is ethical to impinge on the wild in the first place.
We should all take more care to minimise any detrimental impact we have on wildlife and the environment. And, we should all take care to minimise our snarky comments, which can lead to bad feeling between different factions within a wider community that are to all intents and purposes seeking the same positive satisfaction from their interaction with nature.
At this time of year, you might spot Snow Buntings pecking about the shingle and driftwood on a remote windswept beach, perhaps in north Norfolk or Dorset. One Studland birder tweeted earlier that this species has now reached their shores.
The birds are apparently on the beach edge just north of the nudist beach…
The twitter birder was at pains to point out to anyone who fancies seeing these birds that the nudist track is a “Wellies only track”.
It’s worth adding that there’s also at least one nudist beach where you might see Snow Bunts in north Norfolk. I have no idea whether Wellies are allowed there or not…but it’s less than 10 degrees Celsius up there and taking wind chill into account, I’m sure the local “club” won’t mind you carrying a muff, just in case it gets too nippy.
The Bearded Reedling, Panurus biarmicus, is the only known avian species in its genus. It was originally named the Bearded Tit because of its superficial resemblance to the Long-tailed Tit perhaps, but it is definitely not closely related to that bird nor any other tit.
The odd thing though is that the “bearded” part of its name refers to the facial markings of the males. They have long, droopy-looking black patches either side of their bills, whimsically resembling male facial hair but perhaps sideburns or moustaches rather than a beard. I’ve no idea why it wasn’t originally called the Moustached Tit. Either way, it’s not political correctness that is morphing the tit into the reedling it’s simply that it isn’t a tit, as mentioned.
The species is sexually dimorphic, the “clean-shaven” females lack the sideburns/moustaches/beard as well as differing in size and other aspects of their plumage. They’re often quite shy and tend not to show well when it’s windy. That said, you can commonly catch small groups and sometimes larger flocks darting back and forth making their characteristic “pinging”, or “pew-pewing” contact call as the fly. When they settle on a reed, they often shuffle from a lower portion up to the top of the stem. On other occasions, they will dance about the lower parts of the reeds almost at water level.
During the original covid lockdown in March-April of 2020, you may recall that I mentioned an activity known as noc migging. Essentially, it’s birding at night with a microphone and a sound recording device. You record the sounds of birds passing overhead, many birds migrate at night, and then process the recording to pluck out the sounds of our feathered friends for identification. Oh, by the way, here’s my garden birding tick list.
You can do the ID by ear or you can use software that analyses the sonogram and selects out the bird calls from the background noise of foxes and deer, motorbikes, cars, and other sounds of the night, and then passes it to ID software. Cornell University’s widely available birding app, Merlin, is a very useful introduction to NocMig and Audio Birding, in general.
Of course, there’s an app that can do the recording and the ID all-in-one, and has been for some time: the Merlin app from, Cornell University. Commonly, it’s used by birders and others when they hear a tweet or a chirp when they’re out and about to give them an ID for a sight unseen. The app records and analyses the avian sounds and gives you an ID for the species you’re hearing, usually within a split second. Actually, all that said, you can feed the app bird photos too, for a visual ID.
I’ve used Merlin sporadically for that purpose for quite some time. But, hearing lots of bird activity in the garden a few days ago I set my phone up with the app running, to hear what was around, even though I could ID most of them, hahah!
I wasn’t surprised by the majority of the IDs that popped up as I could hear the likes of Blackbird, Robin, Starling, Chaffinch, Dunnock, Carrion Crow, Goldfinch, Wren, Great Tit, Blue Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Collared Dove, Wood Pigeon, House Sparrow, Rook, Jackdaw, Pied Wagtail, and Magpie and identify them myself.
There were a few more obscure species that it identified that were a little surprising, Goldcrest, for instance. We have had that species in the garden before and I usually recognise their call but hadn’t noticed them toing and froing in our garden lately. The app also picked up a Redwing, one of the winter thrushes, which is likely to be arriving in our area at this time of year and was presumably flying overhead although I didn’t see it. There was an ID that the app labelled as uncertain – Brambling. I didn’t hear it, but it is nice to imagine that this species might be nearby. It also picked up Ringed Plover. Another I didn’t hear, but interesting to note.
Early morning of Sunday 29th October the app had red dots next to two birds it thinks it picked up – Raven and Barn Owl. Ravens are not commonly seen around here and while Barns Owls are not rare 7:30am over our house seems odd, but who knows? Spotted Flycatcher and Wood Warbler here, at the end of October? Almost certainly not.
I later fired up the app on a walk close to one of our local ponds and picked up a perhaps unsurprising Reed Bunting, confirming that I had indeed heard it. After dark that day I was also able to use the app to confirm a solitary Tawny Owl calling from a tree in a neighbour’s garden. Mrs Sciencebase recorded Greenfinch and Bullfinch as well as some others mentioned above on her expedition with friends. We’ve also now had Grey Wagtail over the house.
The app is yet to suggest an ID for anything that would be very unlikely around here. So, I’m taking it on trust that it’s giving me accurate data. The common birds above are definitely seen and heard in this area. The likes of Redwing and Brambling too. We’ve had Redwing in our garden in past winters, although not yet Brambling, just yet…
You can see my complete garden tick list for birds spotted and heard here.
UPDATE: Morning of 30th October 2023. I set up a studio condenser microphone and directed it to record from my office window. I recorded twenty minutes of sound from the mic, saved the file, and fed it to Merlin. It came back with some spurious IDs like Spotless Starling (Mediterranean bird), Verdin (a new world penduline tit), a laughingthrush (Asian/Indian species), Eastern Towhee, a New World sparrow, reported once or twice only on Shetland . But, there were a couple of species that we are likely to have locally that hadn’t been picked up when I was running Merlin with my phone’s mic on previous sessions: Fieldfare (one of our winter thrush visitors along with Redwing), Blackcap (presumably a wintering arrival from east Europe), Song Thrush (relatively common around here).
UPDATE: 30th October 2023 – RSPB Ouse Fen (Over) app and us picked up Bearded Reedling (formerly known as a Bearded Tit), which we saw a dozen of, Cetti’s Warbler (3-4x), Skylark, Meadow Pipit (half a dozen), Crossbill (possibly, we didn’t hear it though). 11th November: Common Redpoll, Siskin, very unlikely Hawfinch.
My good friend Keith W, a steel industry professional, responded to my social media post about audio birding. He reminisced about how, as a youngster, he used to set up his Pifco cassette recorder on the garage roof at home and head off to school. He would come home to find that the big cylinder batteries were completely run down in the recorder, but he’d have a tape full of bird calls and birdsong. He would then listen to the tape and compare what he heard with the recording on an LP of birdsong.