Framed by a Goose! Ringed Plover

When I heard that there was a confiding Ringed Plover (Charadrius hiaticula) at Wilstone reservoir yesterday, I thought the week-long photography drought was over. When I heard it was on the jetty at Wilstone reservoir, I was less optimistic. Chances were that the fishermen would beat me to it and the jetty would be royally rid of all bird life.

Still, if you don’t try, you never know. So, within 15 minutes, I’d dressed, gobbled toast, drunk scolding tea and was on my way to Tring. As I drove, I told myself that a Ringed Plover wasn’t worth a speeding ticket or dying for, so, when I got stuck behind one slow car after another, I took it easy.

Once at the reservoir, my heart sank. I could see the fishermen had already set up on the jetty. Pressing on regardless, I got there and all I could find was a family of Greylag Geese and a Pied Wagtail…most assuredly not what I was after. Common Terns and Hirundines were swooping over the water. Nice but, y'know, I'd seen them last week. And the week before that. And the week before that. A Yellow Wagtail flew in and I watched that for a while, gathering food for its young. I hung around the jetty as if it were some magical lure able to conjure up good birds from thin air. I guess I also hoped that somehow I’d missed the little wader and there would be some movement to catch my eye and rescue my day. But, nope, nothing, nada. I was just starting to switch to an alternative plan for the morning when one of the fisherman got up and came over to me. He asked if I’d like to see the Ringed Plover that was snuggled up on the concrete next to where they were fishing! Um, yes please! And, there it was, brilliantly camouflaged, not 4 metres from the fishermen, nestled up against a rift in the stonework. The last place I’d have looked!

The next hour was spent watching and photographing this most fearless of little birds. It didn’t move far and enjoyed the occasional wormy snack provided by the fisherman. At one point, it walked right up to me, to within about 1 metre. Looking into my eyes, it called, “pew”, and walked back a few metres to its cosy concrete nook. Absolutely fantastic!

Although the Greylag Geese had the whole of the reservoir in which to roam, they decided that the 4-5 metres between me and the Plover was the best place to stand. I had some fun playing with the framing.

And, listening for my camera shutter, I think…

By about 11am, the position of the sun was such that every photograph lacked the catch-light in the eye. I decided a bird this confiding was too good an opportunity to walk away from and that I’d return at about 3-4pm when the sun had moved round sufficiently. If the bird had gone by then, so be it, but I would have given it a shot. When I left, the Plover was settled against its concrete nook.

In the intervening hours, apart from a leisurely lunch, I caught up with a couple of Spotted Flycatchers at Startops reservoir. 3pm, I returned to the jetty to find both fishermen and Ringed Plover had gone. C'est la vie...

The contextual shot…

Digiscoping Little Ringed Plovers …again!

Yesterday, I returned to the nesting Little Ringed Plovers and discovered they’d disappeared?!? No idea what happened, unfortunately. But, not to be deterred, I went in search of other bundles of feathers and found another nesting pair, at another site, which were well on the way to success. In fact, they had 4 fluffy little fledglings, although it took more than 2.5 hours observation, over 2 days, before all 4 revealed themselves.

This new family were an ideal subject on which to practice digiscoping, located on private ground and remaining flipping miles away. I’d estimate the group were mostly 60+ metres from me, although both adult birds halved that distance at various points for brief periods. The fledglings were scampering all over the place, often only 1 of the 4 was visible whilst the others were hidden in low growing vegetation.

I used the same set up as before (Swaro ATS80HD, DCB-A adapter, Panasonic DMC-G3, 20mm f1.7) but was also trying out a remote shutter release, to reduce vibration/movement as much as possible. I’d tried digiscoping on Friday afternoon but the heat haze was awful. This morning was overcast, fresh and calm so I thought I’d give it another go. I could have done with more light: it was difficult to get a workable shutter speed at a reasonable ISO. But, I came away with records of the family that I would not have been able to get with anything else I own. In the end, once I got the hang of taking photos with the set-up, I digiscoped some video footage and pulled a couple of stills from that. The white balance is off (which I don’t seem to be able to put right in post-processing) and the quality is poor in terms of sharpness but I was asking an awful lot of the system. Ultimately, I think the distances involved were probably pushing my luck, especially with such a small species. Anyway, all good practice and they were wonderful to watch!

How many chicks can you get under a brooding parent….?

Distance approx 60m. Digiscoped: Swaro ATS80HD, DCB-A, Panasonic DMC-G3, 20mm f1.7, remote shutter release

...the answer is FOUR! (still from video)

Stretching the growing wings (still from video)

EDIT: Update 03 June 2015

I visited the LRP family today and the juveniles are now able to fly and almost the same size as the adults. Now that they are less vulnerable, here’s a contextual shot taken from where I was standing and showing the location of the birds during the digiscoping session. I could barely see them with the naked eye…

Settled Orange-tips…at last!

Bovingdon Brickworks (BMT): One of my favourite butterflies, which eluded my lens last year, is the Orange-tip (Anthocharis cardamines). Of all the butterflies, it is the one which has, time and time again, made me look like a complete wally. It’s had me running this way and that, round in circles, back and forth, trying to anticipate where it'll land. More often than not, it wouldn’t land, only flutter off through impenetrable scrub. On the rare occasions it did land, it was in the middle of a large Bramble patch, out of range, for less than a second. This week, I got lucky! The weather/temperature was just right on Wednesday. Warm but not sunny and, as a result, the Orange-tips were settling for longer. I would dearly have loved to capture both male and female but had to conceded defeat when it came to the female...this time.

Orange-tip (Anthocharis cardamines), male, underwing, Bovingdon Brickworks, 20/05/2015

Two males were perched together briefly on a grass. I didn’t notice the little bugs crawling down the grass head until I got home and looked at the photo. They are, I think, an immature Mirid bug species, perhaps Leptopterna dolabrata, which feeds on grasses. Anyway, they add a little something to the image, I think.

Orange-tip (Anthocharis cardamines), males & Mirid bugs, Bovingdon Brickworks, 20/05/2015

At the Brickworks yesterday, it was great to see 7+ Brown Argus (Aricia agestis) butterflies. They are having to make do with Forget-me-not and Cowslips at the moment because their preferred nectar plants (Marjoram, Ragwort and White Clover) aren’t flowering yet.

Brown Argus on Forget-me-not, Bovingdon Brickworks, 21/05/2015

Brown Argus on Forget-me-not, Bovingdon Brickworks, 21/05/2015

A particularly brown Brown Argus on Cowslip, Bovingdon Brickworks, 20/05/2015

Breathtaking Black-throated Diver at Farmoor

Loons or Divers, whatever you call them, they are a pretty special group of birds. Just 5 in the genus, Gavia, with 4 of them occurring in Britain and Europe, according to Collins. When I think of a Diver in Britain, I think of remote lochs in far-flung Scotland, where the haunting, sonorous song of the bird skates across still waters.

I think of them in idyllic, isolated expanses of blue, gliding along the surface before effortlessly slipping beneath, swimming down in search of fish. They rise to the air so far from where they submerged you lose track of them.  I don’t think of concrete causeways, windsurfing, fishing boats and accessible public toilets. But that’s what we, and the seemingly marooned Black-throated Diver (Gavia arctica) had, at Farmoor reservoir on Saturday.

I’d never seen a Diver in Summer plumage. This bird was beautiful beyond description and the photographs don’t do it justice. The views through the scope were breathtaking. We were on site from about 11am until about 4pm. It really was a bird you could watch for hours and hours, marvelling at the intricate feather patterns contrasting with the dove grey head and the rainbow of colours in the iridescent, black throat.

In the morning, the bird spent a lot of time preening or at least trying to address an area on its belly. It was difficult to make out what exactly was going on but it looked like the bird had some sort of injury. During the afternoon, the bird was very placid, barely moving more than about 50 metres back and forth along the west bank. Its eyes were constantly closing and, in the whole time we were there, it never dived/fed. I don’t suppose there’s likely to be a happy ending, unfortunately.

On a brighter note, the summer plumage Dunlin and Sanderling were full of beans and also brilliant to watch.

Dunlin (Calidris alpina), Farmoor reservoir, 16 May 2015

Sanderling (Calidris alba), Famoor reservoir, 16 May 2015

From left to right: Sanderling, Dunlin, Dunlin

Sanderling

Dunlins