Nomansland Wood Warbler

Nomansland nr Wheathamsptead: I’m glad today’s Wood Warbler (Phylloscopus sibilatrix) sighting wasn’t the first time I’d seen or heard this species. It was a beauty but it was underwhelming in the “it stayed high up in the canopy, not singing, against a dazzling white, cloudy sky” kind of a way. But, the great thing about having experienced the species before is that you can superimpose previous joy and delight into the now. You can borrow from the past to enhance the present. And that’s what I did today. I remembered the first and only other time I’ve seen this species. It was in May 2012 at Frogmore Lakes in Hertfordshire, and it remains one of my top 10 birding moments, ever.

Wood Warbler, Frogmore Lakes, 27/05/2012. Throwing back his head in full song

Wood Warbler, Nomansland, 19/04/2015 (record shot)

It was a warm, sunny, blue-sky May day. Gathered under beech trees, bathed in dappled light, a group formed, completely captivated by a lemon-chested, white-bellied, singing male Wood Warbler. Although still back-lit and fast moving, he was lower in the trees than the bird at Nomansland. And, he was a singer. Boy, was he a singer...heart and soul and body. He was singing like his life depended on it and, in a way, I suppose it did. If you’ve never witnessed a Wood Warbler in full song, you’ve missed out. It is something to behold. He starts off slow and subdued, trills rolling out, and then the speed and volume increase until finally, head thrown back, the last notes are ballooned up into the canopy, far and wide, as his whole body shakes with the force of the crescendo. It is something incredibly pure, and wonderful to watch. I hope I get the opportunity again in the not too distant future and I’m very glad to have seen the shadow of it today.

Distracted by a Shrew

Bovingdon Brickworks (BMT): I spent this morning at the Brickworks in pursuit of mining bees and Dotted Bee-flies (Bombylius discolor). I got slightly distracted by a freshly dead Common Shrew (Sorex araneus), lying on the path. There wasn't any sign of injury but, like the Common Toads from earlier in the month, the main defence mechanism of this little mammal is to secrete a foul tasting liquid from glands in the skin. Predators can quickly abandon them without tucking in.

Unless you have a license to trap and handle live mammals, it's rare you get to see these creatures up close. I wouldn't wish it dead but, since it was, I took the opportunity to check out and photograph its main features.

Common Shrew (Sorex araneus). Body = 70mm long (against my little finger), tail = 35mm (0.5 x length of body)

Pointed nose, small eyes and ears

Alternative view of the long, pointed nose & tiny eyes

Red-tipped teeth

Back feet (from above)

Back feet (from below)

Back foot (from the side)

Front feet

5 Facts About Common Shrews (Sorex araneus)

1. They rarely live beyond 12 months
2. They feed on insects but also eat earthworms and small slugs and snails
3. They don't hibernate but during the winter they actually shrink to make survival easier
4. Their main predators are Tawny Owls, Barn Owls and larger mammals
5. During breeding, if the nest is disturbed or the mother wants to train the young, they form a "caravan". Each shrew grasps the base of the tail (or rump) of the one in front of it, forming a caravan of little shrews all running along behind the mother!

The Mammal Society have a great leaflet on Common Shrews HERE, if you'd like to know more.

As for the mining bees, there was plenty of activity but I'll need to sort out IDs etc before posting. No sign yet of the Common Whitethroats but a Willow Warbler was singing.

Serenaded by a Wheatear

Last Spring, I had a severe Meniere's flare up (degenerative inner ear condition) and was essentially confined to home or to within a 5 mile radius of home….for 3 months. I missed Spring migration! It's not surprising then that this year's sights and sounds are especially fresh and exhilarating. Every Wheatear is a bonus! And, when 23+ were reported on Ivinghoe Beacon on Wednesday, it seemed silly not to go and take a look. I didn't bother counting them. I just enjoyed them. I sat on the hillside, in the sunshine, and watched these pretty little travellers flitting and calling and even singing.

I'd never heard a Wheatear sing before. I'd heard the tongue-clicking "chack", which these guys also did but, in flight, and especially from a prominent perch on the hillside, one male in particular was singing.

The best, similar recording I can find on Xeno Canto is this one:


What made my day, though, was, as I sat in the warmth, that male (photographed above, in the messiest setting possible!), stood tall on his mound of earth, just a few metres from me, and sang his subsong. Quietly but determinedly as if he was unable to hold it in any longer. As he sang, he looked left and right and backwards and forwards, projecting the quiet, sure sound all around him. Having never seen or heard it before, it was pretty special.

A similar subsong recording from Xeno Canto


You can never see too many Wheatears!

Firecrests

Wendover Woods: This morning, just beyond The Hale avenue, this little Firecrest (Regulus ignicapillus) briefly came down from the tree tops and into the sun. S/he was there but a split second. I fired off a burst of shots and the moment was gone. Magical.

I dread to think how many hours I’ve spent standing under trees in Wendover Woods, listening to the ringing of Firecrests, waiting for them to pop out or to come a little lower. Photographing them requires the patience of a saint or an endless reserve of energy, neither of which I have, and today’s one shot is definitely my best in the 4 years I’ve been trying.

I spent about an hour quietly and carefully listening to the woodland today. The trees really were alive with Firecrests. I saw at least 6 different birds and heard more. They aren’t easy though and every Spring I have to reacquaint myself with their song before heading to Wendover.