Category: Biology

Watching the Starlings murmurate over Broad Lane balancing pond, I estimated that there were 3-4 large flocks of about 1000 birds each and then maybe a dozen smaller flocks of 50-100. But, then I found an interesting image analysis tool called Dot-Count into which you feed a photo with objects you wish to count that you have made monochrome and boosted the contrast. I used a cropped version of the above photo:

You set a threshold for the smallest object and the largest object (dot) and a threshold for contrast and ask it to “Count Dots”. It reckons there were 1291 “dots” in this image, but a quick look showed it had missed a few overlapping birds. So, let’s just guesstimate there are 1300, so my 1000 guess wasn’t too far off.

Three or four similarly sized flocks were wheeling around the sky at the time as well as those smaller ones. I reckon the Broad Lane reedbed roost is host to a staggering 4000-5000 Starlings each night.

Interestingly, the Dot-Count page at the Reuter Laboratory at MIT, uses Starlings as one of its examples. The first photo they show has roughly the density of my flock and a count of 800, so same ballpark figure. They reckon you can count lots of other types of object in a photo as long as they’re non-contiguous and you can increase the contrast sufficiently to allow the software to do its job: windows on a skyscraper, eggs in a basket, nanoparticles and neurons, freckles on a face etc. Presumably, you could even use it for counting crows…

In case you missed it, you can watch my documentary about the Cottenham Murmurations narrated by Sir David Attenbradley here.

UPDATE: March 2024 – My estimates of the various and vast Starling murmurations at RSPB Ouse Fen (Earith) would suggest there were around 500-750k birds!

Whooper Swan (Cygnus cygnus) photographed over RSPB Ouse Washes, five of thousands that arrive from Scandinavia to overwinter in The Fens.

If you’re wondering about that scientific binomial, it’s a tautonym, the same word used twice to indicate that this species “cygnus” is the “type” of the genus Cygnus. It’s worth noting that not all genus types names are tautonyms.

There are dozens of example Buteo buteo (Common Buzzard), Carduelis carduelis (Goldfinch) Bufo bufo (common toad), Cricetus cricetus (hamster), Lutra lutra (European otter). There are many more, some are given in triplicate Gorilla gorilla gorilla (Western lowland gorilla).

There’s another I could add: Grey Partridge (Perdix perdix)

Then there’s the seemingly nonsensical sentence: “Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.”

It does make sense. Google it. You’ll see.

Some birds have several names (think Peewit, Green Plover, and Northern Lapwing, all Vanellus vanellus). The scientific binomial is usually the definitive name, but even that can change especially in the age of DNA analysis. Either way, there are common names, colloquial names, and others that can add to the rich tapestry of birding life. I asked the members of the UK Bird Identification group on Facebook for a few of their favourite examples, having myself offered Bonxie (the Great Skua), Yaffle (Green Woodpecker), and Spuggie (House Sparrow), as some of my favourites.

Mick pointed out that his word for a Spuggie is a Spudge and Maggie added that spuggies thrive in Yorkshire as well as Geordieland (from whence I hail and from where Sarah’s family also hail and she calls House Sparrows spuggies too and knows someone who refers to Long-tailed Tits as “flying teaspoons”). Wendy added that an older bird-watching friend calls Great Tits (Parus major) Tomtits. Interesting because tomtit is also Petroica macrocephala, an Australian Robin, endemic to New Zealand. Wendy also revealed that she used to refer to Ring-necked Parakeets as “Marmite Parakeets”, presumably because you either love them or hate them (or maybe it was just the colour, although if your Marmite has turned green, it’s time to get a new jar.

Darryl added that another Yorkshire dialect name is Fleck-lenny for the Chaffinch and his mother called Starlings “Sheps”. While people in The Orkneys call puffins “Tammie Norries”.

Alex pointed out that Kestrels used to be known seemingly rather crudely as Windf*ckers, but, of course, in Old English that modern expletive perhaps meant “beater”. The same bird was also known as a Windhover.

Michael Murphy gave us Tystie, Butterbump, and Sprosser as all brilliant. A quick search on DuckDuckGo (obvs) confirmed those as: Black Guillemot, European Bittern, and Thrush Nightingale. Meanwhile, Lesley tells us that a Dabchick is a Little Grebe.

Stuart told the group that he had a parrot called Neil. I do wonder if that’s fakenews though…maybe not, I knew a black and white cat called Peter once. He adds that Toastie is another name for the Black Guillemot, apparently available in cheese and ham, similar to the aforementioned Tystie. Dave tells us a Stormcock is a Mistle Thrush and Chris says Throstle for Song Thrush. Bob also points out that in Leicester House Sparrows are also Spuggies and highlights Peewit for Lapwing too, although I had already mentioned that in the introduction to this post.

Other nicknames coming home to roost: Robin has Rosy Pastor (Rosy Starling) and Goatsucker (Nightjar), Ginny mentioned how Puffling – describes Puffin chicks perfectly. Les tells us that in Liverpool Woodpigeons are called Wood Micks but says he hasn’t a clue why; I think we might offer a good guess.

A blackwit is Black-tailed Godwit. A barwit a Bar-tailed-Godwit.

Gropper – Grasshopper Warbler.

Oh and for anyone wondering, yes it was Professor Yaffle who was the bookend Green Woodpecker in Bagpuss!

This post is essentially an appendix to my tongue-in-beak birding glossary.

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 2: GOLDFINCH DYNASTY

from the BBC, the British Bradcasting Corporation

All the leaves may be brown but the sky certainly isn’t grey It’s early December in this Cottenham garden on the edge of the Cambridgeshire Fens. A family of Goldfinches are keeping the winter chills at bay by eating the abundance of high-energy nyjer seeds from a feeder hanging in the beech tree.

There is a definite avian hierarchy at play with the dominant members of the group perching in prime position to nibble at the tasty but tiny black seeds with their seed-crushing beaks.

As we can see, there is space on the feeder for four birds and yet those lower down the hierarchy seem keen to shuffle up and down nearby branches and make a play for an occupied perch only to be rebuffed by its resident with raucous calling and a great flapping of golden wings. Perhaps there is social climbing involved or maybe the birds simply perceive the occupied perches as being somehow better. After all, those higher up the family tree are feeding well on those. That said, it is rare to see all four perches occupied simultaneously and the sequence of perch occupation changes periodically.

Without extensive scientific analysis it would seem impossible to probe the minds of our feathered friends. But, more to the point, it’s getting rather cold in the garden and it’s time for my morning coffee.

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 1: I Heard a Murmur
EPISODE 2: Goldfinch Dynasty
EPISODE 3: Young People’s Beat Combo
EPISODE 4: The Cumulus Dynasty

Ask anyone how long they imagine wild birds live, and the answer might be a 2-3 years, perhaps, or maybe a bit longer, certainly not as long as a cat or a dog. Well, the truth might surprise you. While it is true that some of the common garden species we know and love have quite short lifespans, there is evidence (from scientific ringing) that wading birds, like Oystercatchers and Woodcocks, can live for several decades.

One Oystercatcher, well known to birders, was first ringed by by Adrian Blackburn in on the Lincolnshire  coast (Eastern England) and was last logged just over 40 years later in 2010 in roughly the same part of the world. It might well still be alive today, we don’t know.

The website Wader Tales mentions that Oystercatcher and also points out that one Manx Shearwater was ringed and logged at the age of almost 51 years. A Pink-footed Goose of more than 38.5 years is on record and a Rook of almost 23. A Black-tailed Godwit was hatched in Iceland in 1977 and ringed in the October of that in Butley, Suffolk. It was caught and logged in 1993 on The Wash and again in 1996. Last time it was seen was 2001.

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 1: I HEARD A MURMUR

from the BBC, the Bradley Broadcasting Corporation

Sunset is still a long way off. But, there’s a peace settling over the reed bed at the Broad Lane balancing pond in Cottenham. Nevertheless, it seems an unlikely place to spend the night. But, that’s exactly what several hundred local residents are planning to do. They’re just waiting for the sun to go down and in they’ll come to make their bed.

The time is drawing near, a few birds have come home to roost and are calling from the trees. Almost as soon as the sun dips below the horizon, the first of the overnighters arrive, winging their way in from the local fields and making a flap about who gets to sleep where. And, then the crowds begin to arrive, everyone jostling for pole position in the race to find the most comfortable and safest spot to bed down for the night.

The arrivals are, of course, starlings (Sturnus vulgaris), and this is murmuration time. We do not see quite the magnificent flocks of millions that appear over the African savannah nor even the multitude that murmurates along Brighton Pier. But, this is Cottenham on the edge of the Cambridgeshire Fens and we have to make do with a mere two or three thousand of these birds settling down each winter night. Wave after wave arrives to find a roosting place among the reeds.

And then, the stragglers, the less prompt late back from the fields. Thankfully, there’s always a snug bed among the reeds. And, there’s no panic about who gets the top or the bottom bunk. Every roost is the same and every roost is as safe as the next from night-hunting predators with a taste for our feathered friends. They just have to hope there are no pike in that balancing pond.

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 1: I Heard a Murmur
EPISODE 2: Goldfinch Dynasty
EPISODE 3: Young People’s Beat Combo
EPISODE 4: The Cumulus Dynasty