|Ah, the humble Corn Bunting... (digiscoped video grab)|
Six months since my last post. It’s going to be a miracle if anyone passes by this neck of the woods any more but….I’m back (I think)!
A new year, a new strategy! We’re going for quality (ha!) over quantity. The plan is to post once or twice a month with a pick of what’s crossed my path, brightened my day or made my heart sing. That should give me enough slack to fashion a post in my more, shall we say, functional moments. Never
So, where to begin? Each winter I am struck by the reality that barren branches and a muted landscape masks a season full of hope and potential and tactical preparations. As Autumn nudged into Winter, many trees and shrubs had already formed ripe buds. They were Getting Ready. I don't think there's a January that’s passed where I haven’t heard Woodpecker’s drumming, birds singing and courtships beginning. It is the month which see-saws between extremes: one moment creatures struggle to survive another second; the next they're taking advantage of crisp, sunny days to begin searching for a mate and setting up territory.
|A pair of Roe Deer sitting in the January sunshine, north of Hampton Lucy|
As the year came to an end, with pockets of snow still on the ground, my heart soared as I watched a pair of Ravens
courting over Bath Hill Wood
just north-east of Walton Hall
. My previous experience of this species has always been flyovers - it wasn’t a resident, to my knowledge, in/around Hemel Hempstead. The pair were synchronising flight, calling repeatedly, meeting and tumbling in the air and, in unison, covering the breadth of the woodland, two-thirds of a mile, this way and that. In that moment, it was completely beautiful. Hope, the future and the prospect of Spring collided and lifted and swelled over the dormant landscape. Ravens eh, I never would have pegged them for a source of encouragement!
Since then, the stepping stones which have brought me through a difficult January have included garden feeders all a fluster with feathers (....including a SISKIN!
and an all too brief encounter with a Goldcrest
), and learning that just a couple of miles from home there are BUNTINGS….lots of Buntings! And finches. Presumably, as part of a Stewardship or Set-Aside scheme
, the farmer has left an area of stubble and seed crop to sustain farmland birds over winter. It is alive with Corn Buntings
, Reed Buntings
, Yellowhammer, Linnet
. I’ve never seen anything like it. Single species, large flocks, yes, but never all of them together. Brilliant yellow baubles adorn the hedgerow and flashes of white outer tail feathers dart and swerve, moving from perch to food to perch. Flurries of little birds come back and forth, perch and preen, and then they're off again. It’s totally mesmerising and, if nothing else, it highlights just how imperative these conservation measures are if we are to keep our most vulnerable birds. (Corn Buntings down by 86%
, Yellowhammer down by 56%
between 1967 and 2008, BTO).
|The context: behind the feeding area, the Corn Buntings gathered, jangling quietly as sunset approached.|
|Corn Bunting pre-roost gathering 11/1/2018. Digiscoped video-grab|
|The count....Some Buntings. Two were in an adjacent tree and I suspect a handful elsewhere. A total of at least 26-30.|
When I left Hertfordshire/Buckinghamshire, with the Corn Buntings at Pitstone Hill
and the roost at Marsworth Reservoir
, I did wonder whether I would encounter it as easily here in Warwickshire. I needn't have worried. Hearing the flock delicately jangling just before sunset flooded me with feelings of home and blessed relief. Many thanks to Roland, Gus and Dan, fellow local birders, for sharing this gem of a site with me.
Finally, to the mundane. My camera is on its last legs (White Balance & Exposure are completely off 90% of the time, even when set manually, and Autofocus often doesn't work) so photography is more miss than hit and will only get worse (there's a limit to rescue attempts in Photoshop)! Did I say I was aiming for quality?…Oh well.