Category: Biology

The halcyon days of the fisher king

The Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis) (a.k.a. the Eurasian Kingfisher, and the River Kingfisher is one of seven resident subspecies that range across Eurasia and North Africa. Some do migrate when their rivers freeze although they are mostly resident. There are at least two residing in Milton Country Park, north of Cambridge. Here’s one of them, a male. Is that his tongue poking out? I stalked him and saw him dive for a fish, this snap was moments after that.

The English name has a fairly obvious and yet colourful emtyology. The Kingfisher is a bird that catches fish and it has majestic plumage: an electric blue upper body and head, vivid orange breast, white neck patch and vivid blue streak down its back. Hence fisher king, Kingfisher. The female’s lower bill also is orange-red with a black tip. Mnemonically speaking, many birders refer to this as the female’s “lipstick” so they can sex the bird at a distance or from photographs. The scientific binomial, Alcedo atthis is even more romantic, however.

Alcedo is from the Latin for kingfisher, which in turn comes from the Greek word halcyon. A halcyon was a mythical bird (not a kingfisher) that made its nest on still waters, hence our notion of halcyon days, peaceful days, when a nest might be built even on water. Atthis, of course, was a beautiful maiden from Greek mythology known to be a favourite of Saphos of Lesbos

The Wheatear has nothing to do with ears of wheat

UPDATE: Just reading in “Wonderland” by Stephen Moss (the bird bits, I assume) and Brett Westwood (the other bits) about how in 1766, naturalist Thomas Pennant noted that 20000 Wheatear were caught on Eastbourne downs and sold in town by the dozen for sixpence as a tasty snack.

Shocking to the modern ear as that sounds in terms of this delicate little bird being a foodstuff it’s not really any worse than eating any other animal. But, it’s the numbers they caught that seem staggering. This was the pre-industrialisation era when flora and fauna boasted far greater numbers than we ever see today in the age of plastic and pollution. The RSPB website says there are about 240,000 breeding pairs in the British Isles each summer.

Wheatear at the Slaughden end of Aldeburgh, Suffolk, May 2017

The Wheatear (Oenanthe oenanthe) is a small, old-world flycatcher. It’s scientific binomial is a tautonym, both words are the same meaning it is the archetype of its class. The word itself comes from the Greek for wine, oenos and anthos meaning flower and is linked to the bird’s return to Greece in the spring when the grapevine is in blossom.

Wheatear RSPB North Warren, Aldeburgh, Suffolk, April 2017

Its English name, Wheatear, conjures up farmland perhaps, crops swaying in the breeze as the bird hops about foraging for insects and grubs. But, it’s nothing of the sort, it comes from the late 16th Century and refers to the colouration of the bird’s rump, it was known as a “white-ears”, which eventually morphed into wheatear. But, it’s not its “ears” that are white, rather it has an obviously white rump seen in flight. “ears” (aers) meaning hindquarters, or buttocks, dating back hundreds of years, thence “arse” in modern English (etymology here). In French the bird is a “cul blanc”, same thing, white rump.

To feed or not to feed – fat is the question

Recently, I posted about whether or not you should feed wild birds in your garden. The obvious answer if you like birds, is: of course!

Research in the news today asks the same question in the context of emergent diseases that are afflicing avian populations. Here’s the paper.

The bottom line is they don’t really know. You are assisting wild birds if you put out food and keep feeders and bird tables clean. Some birds lacking food and water in harsh weather would otherwise die. But, if lots of different species congregate on dirty feeders with mouldy or rotten food and guano, then emerging diseases can spread more quickly than they would in the wild and birds might be exposed to potentially lethal mycotoxins. The scientists suggest that recruiting citizen scientists could be important to understand better the risk-benefits of feeding wild birds.

In the meantime, the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) and the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) stress that we should continue to put food and water out, but make sure feeding and drinking stations are kept clean and guano free and any rotten food residues removed regularly.

If you notice lethargic birds in your garden or birds that seem to look dishevelled and don’t end up preening themselves smart again, then you need to remove all the food you’ve put out, disinfect cleaners, tables, etc and not put any more food out for at least a month.

Song Thrush versus Mistle Thrush

If you saw and heard a Song Thrush (Turdus philomelos) sat next to a Mistle Thrush (Turdus viscivorus), you’d probably be able to tell immediately that they were different, even if you’re not a birder, although they’re both very similar. However, a lone thrush sat high up in a neighbour’s tree (coincidentally near the mistletoe) is it a Song or a Mistle?

The lone bird Mrs Sciencebase spotted this morning was cackling like the Mistle in this video from BTO and it did seem to be slightly bigger than a Blackbird (Turdus merulea). When it sang it was melodious but didn’t repeat itself; a Song Thrush would repeat a phrase 2-4 times before ad libbing another lick and then coming back to earlier ones. Song Thrushes are also a bit smaller than Blackbirds.

It seemed upright and pot-bellied, its breast was not rusty/rufous like that of the Song Thrush although it’s overcast and grey, so that might be the light? However, the spots on its breast are circular splodges rather than arrow-shaped, so that hints at Mistle Thrush too

Here’s the bird, is it a Mistle Thrush or a Song Thrush? The upper photo is sharp on the eye, the other sharp on the breast spots.

Photographing the Cambridge Peregrines – Part 2

Having recently photographed the Peregrines (Falco peregrinus) that share their time between the few high buildings of Cambridge (see Cambridge Peregrines Part 1), Mrs Sciencebase and myself ventured a little further afield (having had a tipoff from a birder friend about another local pair).

So, this morning we found ourselves in the wastelands of Cherry Hinton the southeastern suburb of the city of Cambridge. We ventured into a local wildlife reserve there that was originally a chalk quarry that back in the day mainly supplied materials for college construction and local building work.

Mrs Sciencebase spotted first one Peregrine, which flew across the East Pit and then a second that entered and settled on a chalk cliff face, a sight you most definitely wouldn’t expect to see in a Cambridge suburb. I got shots of the second and then moving slightly closer it took flight and alighted on the opposite cliff, basking in the sun for a few moments before flying off in the direction of its partner and out of the pit.

Siskins at Lackford Lakes

A cold and grey day at Lackford Lakes (Suffolk Wildlife Trust) a few miles north-ish of Bury St Edmunds turned wet and properly cold while we were stalking a flock of 100+ Siskin (Carduelis spinus also known as Spinus spinus). I got a few shots in between showers, but as we were leaving the sun came out, so went back around the short walk at the site and snapped a few birds we’d seen in low light earlier in the day, including a solitary female Siskin on a nijer seed feeder. Pictured immediately below, female.

Siskins used to be known as Black-headed Goldfinch, because of the male’s black cap and their close resemblance to Carduelis carduelis, the Goldfinch. Male Siskins pictured below.

Cottenham-upon-Sea

The Cambridgeshire village of Cottenham lies partly on an ancient (early Cretaceous) lower greensand ridge just 8 metres above sea level and until the draining of the Fens in the 17th century it was essentially the only dry land between the city of Cambridge and the Isle of Ely almost 20 km northeast of the village. Regardless, the nearest stretch of seaside is about 60 km away (as the crow flies) and so you don’t necessarily expect to see seabirds in this village…unless, of course, you head northeast out of the village on Long Drove until you reach the gravel pits.

There you enter a world of wonder visible from the passing places along the drove: Gulls of many kinds, including recently an Iceland Gull, but more commonly Lesser Black-backed, Greater Black-backed, Herring, Black-headed Gull,
Gadwall, Shoveler, Tufted Duck, Teal, Coot, Mallard, Wigeon. It’s like having a waterfowl bird reserve in our back garden. Of course, strolling around such a site would be dangerous and as it’s private property, I did not venture beyond their boundaries, snapping from the safe side of the gate.

Going for a song (thrush)

It’s been a week of Turdidae, what with the Fieldfares (Turdus pilaris) arriving in our gardens and the Blackbirds (Turdus merula) chasing off Redwings (Turdus iliacus). Then, a quick stop at Wimpole Hall to check in on the Hawfinches (none seen, this time) led to my witnessing and recording a tussle between two Song Thrush (Turdus philomelos), I assume with all this aggression it was a fight rather than courtship.

Funny-looking Thrushes

What are all these funny-looking thrushes that have turned up in our gardens looking fed-up and fluffed up. Well, regular readers will know they’re Fieldfares (Turdus pilaris). I’ve put together a very short and simple documentary based on some footage of the Fieldfare that is using our firethorn like Airbnb with benefits. It’s hardly Attenborough’s Life of Birds, but hey…this is Sciencebase not BBC America!

Sound recording of Fieldfare by Mikael Litsgård, XC375213. Accessible at http://www.xeno-canto.org/375213.

Why feed the birds?

A friend asked me why we should feed wild birds, especially given the harsh weather conditions, wouldn’t it just be natural to let them fend for themselves, he suggested.

Well, isn’t it kinder to help? But, more to the point, it’s human behaviour (intensive farming practices, pollution, industrialisation) that has meant that so many species face extinction, surely we have an obligation to assist where we can? I spoke to an experienced birdwatcher not too long ago who told me of the flocks of birds that he used to see as a child, species that rarely make an appearance these days. And, yes, while there have been increases in numbers and some species have bounced back from extinction, the figures are not pretty overall.

For a nation of bird/animal lovers, we don’t have a good record. (Perhaps not as bad as nations that trap birds illegally in nets or on limed trees like so many aerial fish nor those places where shooting birds for sport or out of sheer malice (which also includes this country) is regarded as acceptable.

So, I will continue to break the ice on our birdbath, fill the feeders with expensive nijer seeds and sunflower hearts (as opposed to the cheap mixed bags of seed that are mostly filler that the birds discard anyway). I will keep adding suet pellets to other feeders and scatter meal worm on to a tray under a refuge that small ground feeders, but not rats nor corvids can enter.

This week, we have had a small influx of Fieldfares coming in from the cold fields, there is a pair of Pied Wagtails flitting about and seeking shelter under our lean-to, and a Song Thrush turned up recently, not seen one of those in the garden for a while. There are also the dozen or so Goldfinches that enjoy the nijer seeds, one Redpoll, the usual Blackbirds, Robin, Starlings, overwintering Blackcaps, Greenfinches, and Tits – Blue, Great, and Coal – in the garden on and off, as well as the Collared Doves and Wood Pigeons.

What else? Oh, yes, a few Jackdaws, Magpies, and Rooks. And, hopefully, any time soon, seeking out our berry bushes (Firethorn, pyracantha) Waxwings (I can only hope). No Bramblings nor Hawfinches yet, although they’re not far away according to bird reports.

Many bird species have gone extinct in recent decades, you are very unlikely to see a Bluethroat in the UK ever again, but there are many others. Most of the decline is our fault, it’s not a natural decline, it is farming, industry, and transport that have removed the natural world the birds previously inhabited, so, yes, we should feed the birds, even it is no longer “tuppence a bag”.