Author: James Common

A botanist and invertebrate enthusiast from North East England

Perceptions of Wildlife: The Young Conservationist

Another “perceptions of wildlife” guest blog this week, following the same setup as the last post by urban humanist Tayla May. This week’s post comes from young conservationist and budding scientist David Hunter, who was asked the same questions regarding his perceptions of wildlife and often controversial species. As you will see, his answers demonstrate perfectly that not all conservationists boast a positive perception of all species – and many actively agree with measures enacted to control them.

As someone who works on the science side of conservation, I rarely get to showcase my humanistic side when appreciating the natural world. I need to be detached, to be outside of the ‘feelings’ side of the argument if any headway is to be made with warring parties associated with a conservation issue. That being said, we are all emotional beings and events such as the shooting of the crane in south-west England a few days ago make me very angry, because of how senseless the violence is. The humanist approach to the natural world is one that most people who work in conservation biology and related fields have intrinsically – if we didn’t we wouldn’t have worked here (at least not for the pay…), and it is only through years of training and practice that we can learn to objectively view a situation (or as objectively as physically possible) and provide solutions to real problems in the world today. That’s especially difficult when people who you might share few to no opinions with are very emotive in their pursuit of goals.

I think the conservational approach is one that goes without saying given the career I’m representing here! The natural world provides a frankly ridiculous number of services and resources for us humans to make use of, regardless of how technologically advanced we believe ourselves to be. It would be madness to throw away such efficient and productive systems for mechanical alternatives; just because it increases profits in the short term. It is crucial that not just for an ethical standpoint but from a survival one that we maintain a healthy ecosystem with as much diversity as possible. You will notice I am not saying a ‘balanced’ ecosystem because there is no such thing. With climatic, geological and biological processes being in the constant state of flux that we are, there is no such thing as a ‘balanced’ ecosystem. We could have a healthy, productive one, or we could have an unhealthy useless one. But with either option, it is a constant changing along a spectrum on which diversity and productivity lie. – Apologies for the rant!

One of my pet peeves is people telling me that they are annoyed with conservationists because they are stopping people from growing food, from harvesting trees, from doing blah blah blah and the list goes on! With a bulging population of 7.5 billion, we as a species are having to adapt to find new ways of farming on the same amount of land. Farmland already makes up over 37% of the world’s total landmass (192,780,000km2 give or take a few tens of millions), but without natural pollinators, predator defences, even down to the bacteria that aid in producing cloud mass to water the crops, biodiversity and the natural world are at the core of that production. A good conservationist will be able to work with people (whether it is a pharmaceutical company or local farming cooperative) to achieve goals that enable and enhance their existing plans to either accommodate for the natural world or work around it in a non (or less) damaging manner. A bad conservationist will come to these meetings shouting and wagging their fingers at the naughty farmer/company/government telling them how awful it is what they are doing, and how they need to stop. the crucial thing is that these people are going to use the natural world (just like we do!) whether you like it or not, and people are much more likely to listen to a friend than they are to an enemy!

The only truly dominionist attitude I have is when it comes to my garden, which I try and maximise the diversity found in it – bending it to my will! I get where people are coming from when they make this argument, but these are usually the same people that tell me that humans are a ‘special’ species and very different from all others. You can’t have it two ways – either man is special and therefore outside of the realm of ‘bending nature to our will’ or it is part of that system, and you need to admit we are just another mammalian ape.

As for aesthetic values – nature is beautiful, in its complexity and harsh reality. I love it all!

Deer

I feel a very mixed response thinking about deer. Red deer and Roe Deer, our only two native species, are overpopulated as we have no natural apex predators to deal with them. The other semi-natural species, fallow, are similarly at bulging levels. The only real solution, in my opinion, to all these species and the unfortunate list of invasives is either culling (in the case of the natives) or eradication. This is to ensure that the plethora of other species that are damaged, threatened or lost from deer overpopulation are protected.

Brown Rat

Non-native pest species. Should be eradicated where possible, but will be nearly impossible over large landmass other than the likes of New Zealand. The damage to the countryside, natural world and even cities of this country are not worth the continuation of tolerance to this species in any area of the country. Unfortunately resistance to rodenticides is likely to make this very difficult.

Hen Harrier (I will struggle to write this in 100 words..)

There is space (and available resources/land) in England for 300 pairs of hen harrier in England, but there are only 4 birds. The status of hen harrier in England unveils the reality of the state of our countryside, and the challenges of protecting the natural world. Basically, no one has been prosecuted for the shooting of these missing pairs, despite their national protection status. Hen harriers have been estimated to take a very low number of grouse relative to other species predation (including man!!) and if gamekeepers argue that under 2% of grouse are killed by hen harriers are causing their moorlands to be unviable, then there is a serious issue with their business model.

Badger

This is a difficult one for me, and I imagine not many of my fellow conservationists are going to like me afterwards! I love badgers very much, but the evidence that came out of a very long, and thorough historical experiment known as the Krebbs trial has shown that between 5 and 35% of all BTB accounts are caused by badgers. In some areas that could constitute over 100,00 cattle. That could constitute entire herds, and thus whole farms incomes. The current badger cull is, to be frank, a ******* disaster. There are very few controls, it has no proper taskforce, and is a disgrace to ecology. If a real cull, in a small enough scale to be measured, with sufficient funding and protection was carried out, I would be surprised if there wasn’t a reduction in BTB. That isn’t going to happen, and the Krebbs trial has its own problems, but I don’t have time to talk about that here!

Grey Squirrel

Wow, I’m talking about a lot of death in this one! Grey Squirrels are lovely fluffy animals that play an important part in the ecosystem… in North America. Forest damage, egg poaching and yet more ecological damage are all the symptoms of grey squirrels in our country. It would be eminently sensible to plan a national eradication programme to remove grey squirrels from the UK. They have already been eradicated from pockets of the country, and the rise of the pine martin in the north of the country has pushed them back. I feel there is no issue in planning to remove grey squirrels, and push for our lovely reds to come back (apart from radical animal rights people and funding!)

Pheasant

I would never shoot pheasant for sport (it’s barbaric), but many people do. I will be honest; I have had very little experience with what the impacts of pheasant farming and shooting in the UK is. I don’t doubt it results in illegal raptor persecution, which is abhorrent, but personally, I have had very little to do with pheasants and pheasant shooting – and its something I should know more about. As a scientist and a conservationist, I can’t give an opinion on something I don’t know enough about, as it would reduce my own integrity, and that of all those in my profession. I’m going to go and do some reading now, so I can be more informed for when the topic inevitably arrives again.

Autumnwatch: why I never miss a beat

The three watches’ have become somewhat of a national institution over the years, loved by many for bringing the best of Britain’s wildlife into our homes, whatever the season. Something which they do, reliably, through an enthralling mix of both education and entertainment – seldom falling short in terms of breathtaking imagery, intriguing facts and loveable gags courtesy of the show’s presenters. They stand as a show for everyone, regardless of viewers prior knowledge and I, for one, adore them. And have rarely missed an episode since first tuning in as a lad – even finding a way to watch in monochrome while working in the depths of the Scottish highlands.

As with any TV show, however, for every thousand positive comments I see on social media, there are also negative ones. Usually centered on the show’s depiction of the countryside and its unwillingness to tackle controversial issues. Both opinions I disagree with, though points that have caused me contemplate just why I tune into the shows with such dedication. Thoughts which have given rise to a number of explanations, some of which I thought I would set out here.

Education value. Sure, the show does not bamboozle viewers with a torrent of incomprehensible scientific facts and data –  that would surely alienate a large portion of viewers who, like myself, do not boast roots in the scientific world. It does, however, manage to educate regardless. Making science palatable, when it is tackled – usually by Chris and his graphs – but also through other equally important means. The show helps with the identification of British wildlife, it provides an insight into their daily lives seldom seen by the general public and highlights the very real threats faced by said species. Whether it is discussing the plight of our Hen Harriers – as seen last night – or stressing the negative implications of Edible Dormice. All of which come in addition to a wealth of interesting facts, regarding everything from the migratory habits of our favourite bird species to the number of compounds in a droplet of mouse wee (Fascinating surely?). Having watched these programs since childhood I can say, without a doubt, that I have learned an awful lot from them. And I am sure many others have too.

Inspiration. I am unashamed to admit that last night, following the segment showing Martin eavesdropping on migrant birds, I set out and attempted to do the same – I failed, though I did hear a Tawny Owl on route home. Hooray! Whatever your thoughts on the shows, the watches’ are, without a doubt, highly inspirational. Encouraging viewers to get out and about and try new things – whether this involves developing a new means by which to enjoy wildlife, or visiting a new and previously unfamiliar setting – Who fancies a visit to Arne? I certainly hold the show responsible for my current infatuation with camera trapping and, over the years, have been inspired to visit innumerable far-flung reserves showcased by the shows.

More important than this, however, is the shows potential to inspire on a much more fundamental level. By bringing wildlife into our homes, Autumnwatch and its kin have the power to instill action on our behalf. Action that may, on occasion, directly benefit the nature at the heart programme. Whether this involves the promotion of citizen science projects or the great work of conservation charities. But also, through the direct inspiration of the next generation. The watches’, by making nature accessible and increasing our understanding of it, almost certainly contributing to our desire to protect it. Igniting the spark of curiosity in people young and old, and providing the basis from which many may the plunge into a life in conservation, ecology or education. Viewing in the early days of Springwatch certainly helped set me on my current course of action.

Awareness. Now this one links in with both of the former points but, ultimately, deserves a spot of its own. While the BBC and thus, the watches’ must remain impartial, they do have a knack for drawing our attention to important issues. Providing the basis for future reading and research and thus, the formation of opinions associated with topical issues. Take the segment on harriers shown last night – the show mentioned, absent bias, that the species is suffering greatly from human persecution. While not pointing fingers, this will undoubtedly encourage others captivated by the footage of the birds, to look further into the issue. People who, once satisfied, may then choose to act on behalf of said species. Education and inspiration often lead to environmental awareness, and this in turn, in many cases, may lead to action. Action which is sorely needed in our current, rather turbulent times.

Entertainment. Above all else, the watches’ are some of the most entertaining shows on TV, and I, for one, know that I would rather spent my week nights watching the dramatic hunting display of a Peregrine, than someone baking a cake. Autumnwatch provides all the elements essential in must-see TV – drama, intrigue, feel good moments and, occasionally, surprises. All of which is not merely conjured up for our amusement, but comes from a natural source. The natural world. You cannot get more entertaining than that, and the enthusiasm of the shows presenters goes a long way to amplifying the experience. Furthermore, who does not appreciate a good game of innuendo bingo? There have been some crackers already this season.

In keeping with the Autumnal theme of this post – Waxwing!

Perceptions of Wildlife: the Urban Humanist

Following on from a recent blog post where I looked at my own perception of wildlife and the management of opinion-splitting species, I decided to start a new series of guest blogs. Posts which, I hope, will begin to look at the differences in stakeholder attitudes towards wildlife.  With the aim of comparing outlooks between different groups with a stake in our countryside and incorporating the views individuals from a whole host of backgrounds. As such, I have asked a number of people to give a brief summary with regards to “what wildlife means to them” and offer some thoughts on the management of five often polarising species.  Though in this case only four were tackled.

First up we have the lovely Tayla May who freely identifies as somewhat of a humanist with regards to wildlife, and dwells in an urban setting. For more from Tayla, you can check out her personal blog here.

It is only when you are asked to sit down and really think do you begin to unpick what something really means to you. What is wildlife to me? How do I perceive it and its importance in my life?

It turns out it has a whole lot more value to me than even I had anticipated. I have always had a deep appreciation for nature and the wildlife that our world encompasses, a fondness that has grown and grown. For me it’s not just about the mammals, is the complexity of the plant life, the rich soil full of activity, the beautiful birds stretching across the canopy and every single little thing within that. For this I completely see myself as having a purely humanistic perception towards wildlife, but I have educated myself in the importance and necessity of conservational ways of thinking and management. I am currently an inner city dweller, having lived in the countryside most of my life, I am attempting to adapt to the seemingly lack of urban wildlife, I mean I know it’s there, but I’m trying to learn to spot it!

I know for well that the landscapes, ecology and species ratios we have here in the UK are purely the result of careful management, and although the persecution of species or numbers of, doesn’t quite agree with my moral ideologies as a humanist, I see it is currently the only way in which to manage the habitats and ecosystems we know. (Unless of course we were brave enough to step back from our dominionist approach and to just see what would happen).

Now, the management of Deer within the UK is honestly not one I have put much thought to, I grew up in the area of the beautiful Wyre Forest (Worcestershire) Deer were not uncommon in this location, but always a somewhat enchanting sight to see. Perhaps this is because even for us, the chance to see a Deer in the wild is still a very thrilling and rare occurrence. But I understand that the close management of Deer herds is important, not only for the health of the habitat they are in, but for the animals themselves. The idea of management is to be sustainable, and in this case, I believe our work to control them are beneficial in the long run.

The prevalence of the Brown Rat within the UK is another troubling invasive species, coming from a few years’ background in the catering industry, I know just what is at stake for us. But there is much more in the balance, once again the Brown Rat has made it near impossible for other species, such as the Black Rat to live in harmony. The management of these species I can agree with a lot more (perhaps hypocritical I know) Brown Rats, and others, of course, are carriers for bacteria that are significantly detrimental to our health, and thus should be dealt with to ensure the spread of harmful disease is kept at a minimum. (Well, that’s my opinion anyway!)

The protection of badgers and theirs sets under UK law is, in my opinion, one of best advances in wildlife management for some time. When the Badger often has no natural predators (other than competition between sets) and yet numbers are dwindling, we must be able to hold our own hands up and accept responsibility for the damage we have caused. And in the creation of laws to protect this UK mammal is evidence that we can step up to a problem and try to fix it. I feel that the Badgers are a prime example of the consequences of over ‘pruning’ of troublesome species, will the Deer and the Grey Squirrel meet the same fate?

The Grey Squirrel has met some harsh criticism recently, and with good reason, it is a species invasive to the UK, stripping habitats and out-competing out beautiful native Red Squirrel. But this is out of consequence for the introduction of this species to the UK as a ‘fashionable addition to estates’ I feel this just goes to show how the meddling of vulnerable eco-systems is just riddled with doubt. I feel that this guilt should lie on our shoulders. Lines must be drawn somewhere though I suppose. And I said in a blog post I recently posted on the Grey Squirrel, ‘I’m not sure where I stand on the slaughter of wildlife for the sake of conservation’.

The management of the Pheasant within British Woodland, or perhaps the intentions of, seem somewhat vapid, we now understand the importance of the conservation of this species, considering the ideal habitat to ensure their survival. And all this work is researched, and implemented, mostly to keep the age-old tradition of shooting them alive. Seems a bit ironic, right? (Or maybe that’s me and my wildly humanistic beliefs surfacing again!) Now I am not one for hunting for sport, especially for one of a beautiful, often overlooked UK bird.

Of course, these are just my views, but like I said, I’m still not sure the way to ensure conservation involves the mass butchering of specific species, or ya’know any species.

Chronic Wasting Disease: A Major Threat To Europe’s Deer?

2016, unfortunately, saw the first verified cases of Chronic Wasting Disease (CWD) outside of its native range in North America, identified back in March in  Sogn og Fjordane county, Norway. Proceeded by confirmed cases of infection in wild Moose around Selbu, located 300km North of the first case. With the Norwegian Veterinary Institute confirming a fourth case in wild Reindeer soon after. The emergence of this disease in Europe rightfully alarming conservationists who now intend to test some 15,000 cervids (moose, roe deer, red deer and reindeer) in order to assess just how far the disease has spread. The problem, if left unchecked, likely to become one of the most pressing issues in the realms of wildlife management and conservation in the very near future.

CWD is, in every sense of the word, a rather terrible affliction, involving the gradual degeneration of the brain in infected animals. Something which, over time, inevitably results in emaciation, abnormal behavior, loss of bodily functions and, in each case, death. Comparable to Myxomatosis in the drawn-out manner in which it claims its victims and thus deplorable from an ethical standpoint. As are many wildlife diseases. CWD, since it was first detected in a herd of captive Mule Deer in the late 1960’s, now having spread across much of North American, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. And causing significant damage to both wild deer populations and commercial interests.

What truly sets CWD apart from other diseases, however, is the manner in which it spreads. Passed from animal to animal through the feces, urine or saliva. Something which, in itself, should be easily controlled, if it was not for the diseases resistance to environmental factors. With infected agents released into the environment through the natural bodily process of deer, or the decomposition of a carcass, persisting in the ecosystem for many years. And therefore, easily picked up by additional deer through feeding on infected pasture. Something which presents a significant problem for those wishing to eradicate the infection. It’s spread only hastened by the natural movements of wild deer – known to travel large distances – and the movement of domestic stock or infected materials.

The means by which CWD spreads and the amount of time it can remain in the environment pose a significant problem for wild deer populations in Europe and further afield. Though problematic in North America, the disease has, until now, been restricted to the few species of deer inhabiting the continent. It’s spread hampered by natural geography. Now, however, following its emergence in Europe, CWD has the potential to spread over a much greater geographical area, to a plethora of new ungulate species. With Eurasia, as a whole, boasting the highest diversity of deer species found anywhere in the world. Including vulnerable species such as the Barasingha – native to the Indian Subcontinent. The spread of the disease, though it will likely take many years, almost inevitable absent proper management. More so given the fact that, unlike people, wild deer know no man-made borders.

In a UK context, it would appear that our beloved deer are safe, at least for now. And Britain’s status as an island may well work in our favour if CWD takes hold. It would, however, only take the accidental import of infected animals or contaminated materials to bring the disease to our shores. And I am sure that both conservationists and deer enthusiasts here will be watching events on the continent very closely indeed.

For more information about CWD, you can visit this page by the Chronic Wasting Disease Alliance, and for information on Norweigan affairs relating to it, you can follow this link.

https://huntfish.mdc.mo.gov/hunting-trapping/wildlife-diseases/chronic-wasting-disease-cwd

Photography: My Favourite “Lucky Captures”

Wildlife photography is, unfortunately, not one of my strengths – it never has been, and due to my reluctance to purchase anything more substantial than my current camera, likely never will be. Photography, for me, is more about capturing a moment – to aid with writing and reminiscing at a later date – as opposed to a professional endeavour. Indeed, the vast majority of the pictures I take are barely discernable, nevermind fit for publication. Though, having finally relocated my hard drive and set about scrutinising some photos from years gone by, I have come to the conclusion that some are actually rather nice. And, thought I would put together a quick post highlighting some of my favourite lucky captures…

Red Deer – Invermark, Angus (2015)

Red Grouse – Invermark, Angus (2015)

Grey Seal – Farne Islands (2014)

Adder – Invermark, Angus (2015)

Field Vole – I Forget Where (2015)

Whooper Swan – Martin Mere (2014)

Pintail – Martin Mere (2014)

Garden Tiger – St. Abbs (2014)

Puffin – Farne Islands (2013)

Exploring My Personal Perception Of Wildlife

It should come as little surprise that the majority of issues initially billed as human/wildlife conflicts actually centre more on conflict between stakeholder groups. Between humans and other humans, as opposed to man and beast.

Wildlife, as a rule, is not overly confrontational, whereas people are. Thus many of the “big issues” in the realms of ecology, conservation and animal welfare – whether that be driven grouse shooting, pest control, fox hunting or canned hunting – actually boil down to our own conflicting views over how we should engage with the natural world. And, ultimately, how we as individuals perceive wildlife. Something which has proven a major focal point during the first few weeks of my Masters degree, and has caused me to contemplate, in depth, just how I, personally, view the creatures with whom we share our countryside. If only to decide, in the future, my stance on topical issues.

One thing has become quite clear during my background reading (and ample discussion) on the subject, is that there is no clear answer. And no right or wrong way of viewing the natural world. Sure, I find some outlooks distasteful, but taking a minute to assess my own views has resulted in the conclusion that our perceptions vary incredibly. Even among those sympathetic to nature. And that hypocrisy is often part of the norm, based on a whole suit of factors: from charismatic appeal of certain species to our own financial and emotional investment. While disagreement is inevitable, and polarised views common, I have come to believe that understanding alternate viewpoints is key. Especially when so many conflict situations can, at best, only result in compromise, and rarely produce an outcome deemed satisfactory to all involved.

Though I have also realised that it is almost impossible to place yourself entirely in one category, however hard you try.

But what are the broad outlooks that must be considered and understood?

  • Humanistic – Those who view animals as sentient beings, believe fully in animal rights and believe man and beast to be unequivocally equal. Oppose the exploitation, control or killing of wildlife on moral grounds. Emotionally invested in wildlife.
  • Conservational – Those who view wildlife as part of the wider ecosystem to be protected and safeguarded for future generations. Motivated by biodiversity and a belief that we are obliged to protect the natural world.
  • Utilitarian – Those who view wildlife as a resource, to be exploited for personal or monetary gain. Viewing certain species as a threat to be removed and others as a direct source of income or sustenance. Interested in the practical value of the land.
  • Dominionistic – Similar to the above but believing that, as the dominant species on earth, humans have a right to alter the land as we see fit. Exploiting the natural world as a resource, to be developed, consumed or likewise. Interested predominately in controlling nature.
  • Aesthetic – Predominantly interested in the aesthetic beauty and appeal of wildlife and the countryside, for recreation and personal enjoyment.
  • Negativistic – Those who possess a fear or aversion to wildlife and/or view species as an inconvenience to daily life.

An interesting graph from a university slide giving a broad outlook on how different groups invested in the countryside view nature. Though for many, myself included, the lines become blurred from time to time…

How do I personally perceive wildlife?

As a conservationist, I, of course, possess a predominantly protectionist outlook, and desire to maintain the countryside in a “natural” state – though I use this term loosely as, for the large part, all hope of this has been lost. This mindset, of course, often puts me at odds with a number of other groups: namely those who exploit wildlife too harshly, or take an over dominionist approach to species, to such an extent that it seems detrimental to their conservation status. It does, however (funnily enough) also set me on a collision course with those boasting a humanistic outlook – though animal rights and conservation are often unfairly lumped together from time to time. Conservation often involves the abandonment of sentiment – whether you’re killing foxes to prevent the predation of rare birds or enacting lethal control measures to stem the time of invasive species. It is not nice, but it is often necessary.

I am, however, not prone to bouts of sentiment, and thus find myself adopting a humanistic approach from time to time. Something which, at times, leaves me looking rather hypocritical – my stance varying depending on the appeal of the species in question (many will not admit to this, but I suspect the same goes for others). Prime examples being my all out hatred for whaling and the killing of protected hen harriers but my willingness to control grey squirrels, and at times, my openness to removing pest species from the home. Whether they be rats or ants. The latter leading me to believe that dominionist tendencies do exist somewhere in there. And also posing questions with regards to whether or not I take a negative approach to certain species, which I almost certainly do. I am not above using the term pest with regards to rats gnawing through my household cables and am unashamed to admit I am actively scared of wasps. Is a rat costing me money through household damage any different to a fox costing a farmer money through the killing lambs? Not really when you think about it.

Examining things, I have also come to the conclusion that at least part of me is also a wildlife utilitarian. I eat meat – the prime example of supporting practices seek to exploit the land, and also consume game. Something which leaves me unable to broadly label all those involved in its production as “the enemy”. I also engage in wildlife tourism which, despite its obvious links to conservation, could also be seen as utilitarian. The money from which may go to good causes but more often than not, I suspect, also ends up lining the pockets of one individual or group.

I am also invested in the ascetic beauty of the land – who isn’t? Though my perception of beauty ofter varies with that of others. My ideal vision for a “wild” Lake District, for example, vastly different to those who view its current visage fondly. Which, again, links in with the conservational approach to things and leaves me at odds with those who utilise the land for their own financial gain.

Conclusion?

I, like so many others, am a big fat hypocrite with regards to wildlife and find myself falling into all of the above categories. Albeit to varying degrees. Motivated, on occasion, by each, yet still confrontational to each from time to time. Not that this is a bad thing, and the decisions of each group must be questioned on occasion, though absent sweeping generalisations. Everyone is entitled to view the natural world in the way they see fit, and often the labels we attach prove unfair. A farmer or gamekeeper actively invested in the land may still appreciate it for its beauty, and find themselves motivated, on occasion, by the principals of conservation. Whereas an ecologist, dedicated to the preservation of nature, may also exploit wildlife to a varying degree for food or enjoyment. It is all rather complicated, isn’t it?

Conflict when it comes to wildlife is inevitable, and in some cases healthy, though unless you are the staunchest member of each group – which few are – we must avoid the tendency to stereotype. It is possible to reach common ground with almost any stakeholder when one looks hard enough, and no individual is exempt from hypocrisy.

While we most challenge others perceptions, it is almost always necessary to understand what motivates others before doing so. There are very few clear-cut “bad guys” when it comes to wildlife, and even fewer wholly good ones.

Just a few thoughts – I apologise for the rather rambling post.

An Autumn Extravaganza

This past Saturday I had the pleasure to enjoy what was, without a shred of doubt, one of the best days birding I have ever experienced. A day jam-packed with everything which makes the hobby so appealing: globetrotting rarities, seasonal spectacles, serene settings and a wealth of fantastic people. All of which unfolded as I departed the house at the ungodly hour of 3am to hitch a lift South, to Spurn Point and the nearby town of Easington. Thanks for the lift Jack!

For many, the Spurn area represents the geographical holy grail of birding sites in the UK: so much so that it is discussed with awe by almost every avian-inclined person I have ever encountered. It’s fantastic variety of habitats, topography and well-placed setting often leading to exponential falls of rarities and common migrants alike. Though, truthfully, before now, I had never really experienced the site on a “good day”. My previous visits coming up short of the exceptional tales recited by others, and resulting in little other than a few common warblers and the odd flycatcher.

I am glad to say, however, that all of this changed on Saturday, the day starting on an otherworldly note when we merged with the crowd waiting to lay eyes on Britain’s second ever Siberian Accentor feeding with the Dunnocks at the site of a former school near Easington. Which we soon did – the bird, complete with its altogether beautiful  yellow/black head pattern, showing down to a few meters as we sat wide-eyed amid the throng. Easily one of the most appealing (and confiding) rarities I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy – though my decision to leave my camera at home proved rather foolish. And  as such, if only for enlightenments sake, I have included the below image from Wikipedia. Look at it!

By Jargal Lamjav from Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia – Siberian Accentor (Prunella montanella) – Сибирийн хайруулдай, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=39422345

Following our success with the Siberian specialty, I could, quite honestly, have headed home content. Though given our location, it would have been rude not to explore the area further and experience fully the deluge of migrants falling around us. Something brought home with resonance as we arrived back to the car to shouts of “Great Grey Shrike” – the bird, one of my favorites no less, seen briefly on top of a nearby hedge, and proceeded by a Short-Eared Owl drifting in high overhead. Much to the annoyance of the two-hundred or so Redwing and Fieldfare also in the area. A good omen if ever there was one.

Arriving at Spurn a short time after, we were immediately greeted by another eager crowd, this time waiting for the release of a Pallas’s Warbler processed and banded a few moments earlier. A bird that I have wanted to see for many years that, until now, had managed to avoid me. This individual performing admirable upon its exoneration, flying into a small Alder right in front of me: its characteristic yellow markings alive momentarily in the growing sunlight, before it dropped out of sight. Spurring on our departure. The short walk that followed revealing hundreds more thrushes, more Robin’s than I have ever seen before in my life and no end of Goldcrests. The next highlight coming in the form of a Shorelark feeding, unphased by its admirers a stones throw from the nearby carpark. A bird I have seen on a number of occasions that never grows tiresome and never fails to delight the crowds.

From hear a leisurely stroll to the reported location of our next target ensued, stopping ever few meters to admire something new and exciting. A flock of Brambling feeding on the track, a superb female Black Redstart, flocks of Siskin, Redpoll and Skylark, alongside Blackcap, Whitethroat and yet more Goldcrest – many and more dropping into the grass beside the track as we advanced. The short walk culminating in amazing views of another lifer – a Dusky Warbler. The bird flaunting itself in the branches of a stunted Hawthorn much to my own personal delight. The experience only amplified by the steady passage of geese overhead, the best of which comprised a flock of eight Bean Geese and a personal count of thirty-one White-Fronted Geese. Both representing species I seldom see back home in Northumberland.

I could waffle on about Spurn all day – we really did have an amazing time – though I feel I should curtail such here. With other interesting odds and ends seen including three Woodcock, a second Shorelark, Wheatear, Little Egret, Scaup, Pochard and more Chiffchaff than you could shake a stick at. A brief “second helpings” stop at Easington providing more views of the Siberian Accentor alongside a ridiculously confiding Common Redstart, and a later pitstop at Saltburn in Cleveland turning up the fourth new bird of the day. And another far-Eastern gem, a Siberian Stonechat – much paler that our own russet coloured birds. Doubtless, I have missed off a few things here but that really is little wonder, with so many birds seen throughout the day. The migratory madness unfolding at Spurn like nothing I had experienced before.

On a quick side note, it was also great to catch up with a few familiar faces from social media – the day resulting in life ticks of fantastic young birders Elliot Montieth and George Dunbar, and a long overdue catch up with the lovely Sophie Barrell. Alongside others, from the local birding scene in Northumberland, from Next Generation Birders and beyond. From the ensuing Twitter posts, it looks like each and all enjoyed a similarly exceptional day.

Awaiting the Pallas’s Warbler…

Fox Hunting: Why I Believe In The Ban

I have found myself discussing fox hunting quite a bit of late: with my family, friends and even as part of my Masters course – an odd choice of topic seeing that ‘the hunt’ was outlawed quite so time ago. Indeed, only this morning I found myself reading yet another excellent article from the Guardian’s Patrick Barkham, in which he draws attention to back-peddling of Andrea Leadsom who, upon her ascent to the role of Environment Secretary, vowed to work towards a repeal of the hunting act with some haste. Something that, mercifully, has not yet come to fruition – largely due to the large number of Tory MP’s and voters actively opposed to practice. This article, coupled with no end of recent dialogue, causing to contemplate (once again) just why I oppose hunting with hounds. To such an extent that I thought I would broach the topic here for the first time – cue the disgruntled comments.

Ethics. After much deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that the main reason I support the ban stems from the questionable (or not existent) ethics of the hunt. Though anyone who knows me will know I am far from an animal rights activist, and often find myself agreeing with the lethal control of wildlife for myriad reasons: to control invasive species, to protect embattled breeding birds, to safeguard human health and, from time to time, to protect human assets. The latter of which also extends begrudgingly to foxes on occasion, which I accept that, under the right circumstances, can prove problematic for both conservation and human interests. This said I cannot condone the barbaric, unnecessarily brutal way in which foxes meet their end once cornered by a pack of hounds. Or, for that matter, the torment they endure during the chase. The thought of watching a distressed animal eviscerated for human amusement is far from my cup of tea, plain and simple. And I find the entire process, from start to finish, cruel, warped and outdated. Even when conducted under the vague pretence of ‘control’, which takes us nicely to my next point.

The control myth. As I stated above, I accept that from time to time, foxes require control – for a host of reasons. This, however, should be done in the most humane manner possible, through lamping and shooting. A precise gunshot courtesy of a trained professional preferable to what, on occasion, amounts to little more than torture. Though there are, of course, those who criticise the ethics of this method too. Including many among the pro-hunting camp, who highlight the fact that a shooter may miss, and thus inflict injury, not death. Well, to those people I would simply say that if you own a gun, as many who seek fox control do, you should know how to use it. Or at least be prepared to fork out the extra cash to employ someone who does. If, indeed, killing must take place at all. Which in equally as many areas it does not. Anyways, doesn’t the scientific literature show that hunting, as a form of control, has little impact on fox populations? And therefore is not a viable means of suppressing numbers and mitigating the negative impacts of the bushy-tailed ones. See Baker et al (2002) Ecology: Effect of British hunting ban on fox numbers. 

Economics. It is true that a relatively small number of people were employed in fox hunting prior to the ban – many of them still are, in one form or another. Though the number of these – 8000 or so I believe – is relatively small. At least when compared to other fields ports such as driven grouse or pheasant shoots. Fox hunting is, for most, a hobby; not a financial pillar of the rural community. Seeing as most of the people formerly employed by the hunt still hold their positions, the loss of fox hunting has had but a minimal impact on the economy. And its return, should that sorry day ever come, would be similarly insignificant. Though I do not agree, I accept that many people enjoy killing, though to attempt to pass hunting off as financially important is nonsensical, at best.

Hounds. Okay, this one comes down to ethics again – maybe I am turning into an “anti” after all – but as a dog lover, I cannot stand the idea of hounds being destroyed when their speed wavers and they are deemed obsolete. I am sure many huntsmen adore their dogs, most no doubt, but given the findings of the Burns Inquiry – which found that some 3000 hounds a year were euthanised needlessly by hunts – I am inclined to say that quite a few do not. And find this equally as distasteful as the torment endured by the countless foxes killed prior to the ban.

That just about covers it. I oppose the hunt based on ethics, humaneness, practicality and its relatively low monetary value, not out of a dislike for the upper class. In keeping with the line so often peddled by those in favour of the practice. Quite frankly, I could not give a foxes whisker. For me, supporting the ban is not about buying into class warfare, nor is it because I possess any great species-specific adoration for foxes – I like them just as much as the next naturalist, and have enjoyed many great encounters with them but still – it is because I abhor cruelty. It is because I believe wildlife management, when deemed necessary, should be conducted with consideration, and because I see no need to deploy such thuggish tactics in the present day.

I sincerely hope fox hunting remains what it is at present: a regrettable relic of the past. Whether this is the case or not, only time will tell, though with 83% of the general public (and a great deal of politicians too) opposed to a repeal of the hunting act, I find myself feeling optimistic. Fingers crossed eh/

*Update: tonight I had the pleasure of once again entertaining a young fox in my urban garden – it spent a good quarter of an hour snaffling slugs from the lawn. A pleasure to see and yet another reminder as to why I stand opposed to the needless killing of its country-dwelling kin.*

By Pawel Ryszawa – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1629175

Autumn wonders and where to see them

Autumn is a season like no other: one of colour, action and perpetual movement. A season which I cherish above all others, which marks the start of a number of subliminal wild spectacles, as many species begin preparations for the winter to come, arrive, depart and burst to life. It is a season of soaring highs, that everyone should make the most of, and one which I always relish discussing. As such, and with my own excitement levels soaring, I thought I would list a few of my favourite Autumn treats. For those interested, and with a little information on where to enjoy them, for those, like myself, intending to make full use of the seasonal bounty.

Migrants Falls

Autumn is, without a doubt, the pinnacle of the birdwatching calendar. A time when, given the right mix of weather conditions, many and more migrant birds arrive on our shores – sometimes in mindboggling numbers. Events which to those of an avian persuasion are known as “falls” and, to me, stand as the unrivalled highlight of the changing season.

Backed by Easterly winds, falls usually consist predominately of winter migrants – those species which flock to our shores annually, seeking respite from the less hospitable conditions to the North. Autumn is a great time of year to catch up with charming flocks of Redwing and ‘cackling‘ assemblages of Fieldfare, often arriving with raucous hoards of Song Thrush, Blackbird and Mistle Thrush for good measure. With Brambling – a scarcer, arguably more appealing cousin of the Chaffinch – as well as Goldcrest and Robin also arriving on mass at present, before dispersing into the wider countryside.

Such events, particularly in October, are not, however, restricted solely to Winter visitors. And species more often thought of as Summer residents often arrive in tandem, when the winds turn against them and their annual migration is temporarily thwarted. Just the other day I had the pleasure to catch up with Redstart, Pied Flycatcher and Whinchat in my local sand dunes, and in Autumn, one may enjoy the reclusive Ring Ouzel, Wheatears, Whitethroats and much, much more. The season standing as our last opportunity to enjoy said species before the winter exodus truly begins.

An additional bonus of Autumn falls – particularly for Britain’s twitchers, is their tendency to include rare birds. Particularly, those from continental Europe, but also further afield, from Siberia and beyond. Birds blown off course by the turbulent Autumn weather, that fleetingly grace our shores each year. With the spritely Yellow-Browned Warbler – from the Russian Ural Mountains – an increasingly common sight in recent years, and species such as Pallas’s Warbler (shown below), Wryneck and Bluethroat always a possibility. In addition, of course, to the select few truly remarkable birds that drop from the skies to greet birders each Autumn. Recent examples including Britain’s first Siberian Accentor on Shetland, and a remarkable White’s Thrush on Lindisfarne, Northumberland. One never quite knows what you will see during Autumn and it is always worth looking.

As for where to witness falls, there are a number of “prime” locations across Britain, including Shetland, Scilly and the numerous bird observatories which dot our coastal headlands. This said, any stretch of coastline, particularly on the East coast, does, however, have the potential to delight at this time of year. And for those unable to get there, the tendency for birds to turn up in altogether unusual places should never be overlooked.

By Francesco Veronesi from Italy – Pallas’s Leaf-Warbler – great rarity in Italy_S4E1751, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=45494309

A Gander at Geese

Coinciding with the arrival of our Winter passerines, many other bird species flock to our shores in Autumn. With perhaps the most numerous of these being our geese. Indeed, in Autumn, vocal skeins of arriving geese are a common sight along our coastline as a number of species make landfall for the first time following their maritime crossing. Delightfully monochrome Barnacle Geese, fresh in from Svalbard or mighty flocks of Icelandic Pink-Feet, it matters not. And observing goose flocks in Autumn is both uplifting, and incredibly interesting. The pleasant ‘honking‘ of these gregarious winter migrants epitomising, perfectly, the shifting season.

Depending on your particular poison, there are a number of prime sites where one can enjoy our winter geese. If, like me, you are fond of the diminutive Brent Goose, you could travel to Lindisfarne in Northumberland, or the saltmarshes of Norfolk to enjoy this species in all their  glory. For Barnacle Geese, why not visit the Solway Firth or Islay – the latter also one of the best places to also enjoy our arriving White-Fronted Geese. For Pink-Feet, the Montrose Basin in Angus is perhaps one of the best, though given their recent population surge, this species can now be enjoyed at many locations across the British Isles. If you do not wish to travel, so be it. Geese, on migration, can be seen almost anywhere, either on the wing, or resting up in arable fields or grassy pasture. Go on, have a look. And stay vigilant for oddities nestled among their ranks – the potential for a Bean Goose, or something altogether more unusual growing as the Autumn advances.

The Red Deer Rut

This one needs little introduction, and for those, like me, addicted to shows such as Autumnwatch the haunting roar of Red Deer stags in Autumn will be a familiar sound. A guttural noise which resonates across many areas of upland Britain, travelling for miles and ensnaring all lucky enough to hear it. Standing as a precursor to the annual clash between testosterone fuelled stags vying for the affections of their harems. And often resulting in awe-inspiring bouts of violence. Something I have witnessed, myself, on but a handful of occasions, but to me embodies the very best of our action-packed Autumn.

Rutting Red Deer can, mercifully, be viewed at many locations across Britain. In the mystical glens of the Cairngorms National Park in Scotland (and across much of Scotland for that matter), or in areas such as Martindale in the Lake Distinct. And even in many lowland areas, with Leighton Moss in Lancashire another site accessible to many. Though it should be noted that the rutt is not restricted to Red Deer, and for those far removed from such things, sites that hold populations of non-native Fallow or Sika are also worth a visit. With Richmond Park in London as good a place as any to enjoy this splendid seasonal spectacle.

By Arturo de Frias Marques – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34551921

Caching Behaviour

Of all of the Autumn wonders already mentioned in this brief list, this is the one that requires perhaps the least effort to enjoy. The caching behaviour of our woodland wildlife standing testament to the dynamic nature of the Autumn season, and the ensuing hardships it preempts. With many animals already setting about the time-consuming process of storing food fo Winter. Including our Jays – their regular acorn-fuelled flights between stands of woodland a common occurrence at this time of year, when the colourful corvids vie with our squirrels for the fruits of our oak trees. It is, however, squirrels that put on perhaps the best show as they fill their larders for the season to come.

For those living in many areas, it is the invasive Grey Squirrel that is perhaps most frequently seen. In our parks, gardens, woodlands and many other tree-strewn places. And despite their troublesome reputation, it is this species that is most easily enjoyed in Autumn. As the bushy-tailed ones hop too and throw across the woodland floor, cheeks loaded with the fruits of their labours. A sight mirrored in the sparse areas still lucky enough to harbour our embattled reds. A species which I, personally, have enjoyed over the last few days in Northumberland, that can still be observed in Cumbria, on Anglesey and, of course, across much of Scotland. The russet ones looking particularly appealing at this time of year as their thicker winter coat begins to materialise and they set about their annual preparations.

Autumn is, without a doubt, my favourite season. A time of action, excess and allure comparable only with the fresh start provided by Spring. The four spectacles listed above comprising those I seek out, year on year, in the hope of engrossing myself in the finery of the season. There is, however, much more to enjoy at this time of year: from the radiance of our deciduous trees and the deluge of arriving ducks, to the flocking behaviour of our tits and finches. Whatever you do this Autumn, wherever you live or find yourself travelling, it is always worth taking a minute, if only to enjoy the undeniable appeal of the British Autumn. An ephemeral season, rife with delights, that all should treasure before it ends.

Raptor Persecution – Eleanor Upstill-Goddard

A change of pace this week as fellow Wildlife Articles blogger Eleanor Daisy Upstill-Goddard writes on the subject of raptor persecution. An issue close to the hearts of many, myself included, which has attracted a great deal of attention of late. And rightfully so, with abhorrent instances of illegal killing still seemingly commonplace in our countryside, despite the best efforts of conservationists and the supposedly stringent laws put in place to protect our wildlife. You can find about more about Eleanor on her website or follow her on Twitter for future updates, but for now, let’s get to it.

By Chuck Abbe – http://www.flickr.com/photos/chuckthephotographer/2391751046/, CC BY 2.0,https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8689771

Britain. We have been an island nation for over 8000 years. An island nation that has played host to some of the world’s most magnificent specimens from the animal kingdom. However, as many of us are all too aware, over the past 8000 years, things have changed somewhat and we now find ourselves without many of these iconic species. In 2016, the state of British ecosystems is very different to 6000BC. Although in some respects this is down to dramatic changes in climate and the natural changes this causes to habitats and species compositions, much of it is down to something else. Down to the actions of one species. The humanoid. That’s right, over the centuries, the actions of us humans have caused many changes and problems for our wildlife and biodiversity. In recent years, we have recognised the magnitude of such changes and this has caused the growth of many campaign groups, charities and individuals who have fought to improve and save many of our species and habitats. However, when it comes to British conservation problems, there are still many hurdles we need to overcome.

So, what are these problems? Well, put it this way, if I were to list each individual topic, it would take quite some time to get through and afterwards, we would probably be left feeling very depressed and deflated indeed. So! Perhaps it would be best if we tried to tackle or address one at a time? For me, there is one that is very high on the agenda, which, if we are honest, should not really be a problem at all. Why? Because it is illegal. What am I talking about? Raptor persecution. To purposefully kill or harm any one of our raptor species (except the sparrow hawk; outlawed 1961) has been illegal since 1954. However, regrettably, it would seem that throughout the decades, their protection status has done little to shield them from persecution. But wait! Hang on there one minute! Little to protect them? Look at the Red Kite! Extinct in England in 1871 and now, in 2016, they are thriving! The same for the Buzzard! A once highly persecuted bird that is now come back with vengeance. Well, indeed and thank goodness! Now, although nobody is denying the success of these comeback kings, what about the Hen Harrier? Is that a tumbleweed? The Hen Harrier is a species, which, on our shores, cannot seem to catch a break. A species that is constantly battling extinction, predominantly due to the inability of some to accommodate this magnificent species on their land. In the case of this raptor and some others, their protection status would seem little more than a formality, a formality to be flouted and ignored. So, you say Red Kite, I say, Hen Harrier, you say Buzzard, I say Golden Eagle. Although the status of many of our birds of prey have improved, it is still not enough. It is not enough that an activity that has been outlawed for over 60 years, is still practised by some who seem to perceive themselves as above the law.

But some think we raptor lovers and conservationists are merely kicking up a stink because we like to complain (apparently). So, there are ‘a few bad apples’ (my favourite line) that commit such crimes, but most people don’t and most people work within the law. Right. It never ceases to amaze me how an activity that is labelled illegal can be so nonchalantly cast aside. I wonder if we applied the same reasoning to other crimes if the response would be quite so lacklustre. If we were talking of robbery or murder, would we say oh well! It’s only a few bad apples! With nothing done to remove them? I think not. It seems to me that because this crime concerns wildlife, the action taken to prevent it leaves a lot to be desired. But perhaps I’m being overly dramatic? Yes, raptor persecution exists, but is it really as bad as it is made out to be? As it is often argued by some, incidences of raptor persecution are falling.

In 2002, the reported incidences of raptor persecution, including shooting, trapping, poisoning, egg collecting, nest disturbance and possession was numbering 591 cases, compared with 356 in 2014. Now, I am not about to deny that 591 is indeed a higher number than 356, nor am I going to dispute that this does indeed constitute a drop in numbers. However, over a 12 year period, the drop could be greater. In fact, in my eyes 356, which is a rough estimation, is still far too high. Just because numbers seem to be falling, it does not mean that the issue is being resolved, with each year bringing new and shocking cases of persecution. In fact, many believe that numbers of persecution cases are much higher than the data suggests. Why? Is it just us conservationists being determined to take a gloomy look on life? Desperate to sit in the cloud and ignore the apparent silver lining? Not quite. In fact, that belief is quite a justified and logical one. Imagine this. You are an individual who does not look upon birds of prey with a friendly eye, in fact, you are a person who is going to harm them. But you know it is illegal, you know that the laws against such an activity are becoming harsher and you know the public are becoming more aware of the problem. You see a Red Kite. You check you have no unwanted observers and you take aim, hitting your target. Would you say job done, and go home? Or would you watch where your quarry fell, retrieve it and dispose of it, so that there was no evidence of your crime? If you were smart and had the ability to do so, you would get rid of the evidence. Your crime goes unchecked, unchallenged and falls into nothingness. So, do we believe all recorded cases of raptor persecution are the only cases? Most certainly not.

Raptor persecution is a British problem. It is not limited to one country, one county or one species. It is indiscriminate and unspecific in its nature. It could take the form of a Goshawk nest disturbed in a southern county forest, or a Hen Harrier shot in the Scottish Highlands. For some people, birds of prey will never be welcome. They are seen as crass and dangerous species who are capable of destroying business and livelihoods and unfortunately, this is enough to cement opinion against them. However, on the enlightened side of the coin, they are recognised as magnificent, unique and important species who have a crucial and rightful place within British habitats, increasing our biodiversity and improving the health of our ecosystems. They are important predators, scavengers and bio-indicators of ecosystem health, and where there are healthy populations of raptors, there are thriving ecosystems.

In Britain, we have already lost some of our important natural predators. The Brown Bear, Grey Wolf and Eurasian Lynx currently reside on the list of species that were hunted to extinction many centuries ago. Raptor species should never be allowed to be added to that list. It is time that those opinions still displayed by our wildlife criminals were cast back into the Medieval times where they belong. Birds of prey are not mindless, savage, cold killers, they are vital members of our biodiversity. Destroy a bird of prey and you are destroying the ecosystem health of your country and that is a crime that cannot be allowed.

“You are not entitled to your opinion. You are entitled to your informed opinion. No one is entitled to be ignorant.” – Harlan Ellison

The Autumn Deluge Begins

Last week I wrote of the subtle passage of migrants along the Northumbrian coast – of large flocks of swallows, meadow pipits and skylarks all heading south – the respective heralds of the changing season. Following on from that, and with the aid of some persistent easterly winds, the autumn floodgates have well and truly opened it now seems. And the past few days have been spent enjoying some of the very best wild spectacles I have ever had the pleasure to observe. From falls of migrant thrushes and eye-catching local rarities to vast skeins of jet-lagged geese inbound from the North. It has been truly wonderful.

Yellow-Browed Warbler (from last Autumn)

Wednesday morning began with more of a trickle than a flood, in truth, and 6am found me languishing amid the gravestones of a local cemetery in the dark. Listening to the constant “seep” of Redwings passing overhead as they breached the transitional boundary between surf and soil. A sound which, to me, epitomises the changing season, and, on this occasion, provided a fitting precursor of the joys to come. Further explorations around the local area revealing a few more treats. A male Brambling secreted amid a mobile charm of Goldfinches, a Woodcock hunched in a damp depression and innumerable Goldcrest uttering shrill cries from the many coastal thickets. Migrants each and all. My building optimism only amplified by the sheer number of Song Thrush and Blackbird dropping in as the morning progressed – much to the delight of the local Sparrowhawks. Three of which could be seen harrying the small flocks as they touched down, doubtlessly exhausted.

A few hours later and, quite frankly, sated for the day, I was ready to up stakes and leave when word broke of a monster autumn rarity on Lindisfarne – a short way up the coast. The day taking an exciting turn following a desperate plea to some local birders and culminating in me racing to get a look at the rather special bird. A bird which, since childhood, I had always stared at longingly in field guides, but due to their tendency to turn up on far-flung islands – Shetland and the like – had come to the conclusion I would never see. How wrong I was, the bird – a White’s Thrush – showing immaculately in a small stand of willows for the duration of my stay. It’s characteristic and rather beautiful scaled plumage alive in the Autumn sunshine as the thrush made a series of brief flights to and from its chosen perch. Seriously, if you do not know what a White’s Thrush is, Google one. They really are outstanding. (Or you can check out this photo by a friend of mine)

Lindisfarne is a place I seldom visit – just out of reach of my usual haunts and too far to travel absent a car. This day, however, satisfied with a touch of exotic glamour, I soon set about enjoying the bounty of autumn in full swing elsewhere on the island, making the most of my limited time here. The various sites visited alive with migrants, with each and every bush holding at least one bird, and more dropping out of the sky with each passing minute. Truly, before now I had not quite experienced a true “fall” of migrants, and what was to come proved nothing short of mesmerising. Even if most of the species seen were rather common.

Song Thrush were by far the most numerous species on the island, their sharp, single-note calls heard almost every minute, with some 111 birds noted during the course of the day. Their numbers rivaled only by the many Robins, Blackbirds and, to a lesser extent, Redwings, similarly fresh-in. Goldcrests were seen and heard with a similar degree of frequency while summer migrants too were prevalent. Chiffchaffs flycatching, Blackcaps squabbling over the few sparse berries not yet pilfered by the Thrushes and Wheatear hopping too and throw in the field margins. Sights rivaled only my the addition of Whinchat – a personal favourite – and later, another touch of scarcity in the form of a Yellow-Browed Warbler. A spritely little bird that breeds in Siberia, yet has flocked to the East coast in record numbers again this year. Beautiful, by any set of standards.

Of course the signs of Autumn abounding on Holy Island were not just limited to passerines, and during my time here, no less than three species of goose were observed on the move. Pink-Footed Geese inbound from the sea, flying with some haste towards their wintering quarters, and smaller flocks of wonderfully monochrome Barnacles. Their numbers matched only by the Light-Bellied Brent Geese which have, it seems, already made it back to the flats that surround the island. Feeding in a tight clump of some two-hundred or so bodies not far from the causeway. Later, ducks also began to move – with Wigeon, Teal, Goosander and Red-Breasted Merganser all passing high overhead, while wading birds too provided a welcome change of pace. Golden Plover by far the most numerous, with some 1500 roosting up in one particular field among a smaller number of Lapwing. The day concluding nicely with the whistling call of a Greenshank – another visitor – and a second Yellow-Browed Warbler, seen breifly in the canopy of yellowed Sycamore.

Lindisfarne and its bounty of birds certainly stands as the unrivaled highlight of the week, so far, though back at home yesterday the Autumn deluge continued. With Blackcap numbers increasing to almost a dozen in one now depleted stand of Elders and yet more thrushes plummeting from the sky as I watched, enthralled. A breif stroll along my local stretch of coastline providing another Brambling, a female this time, and a good haul of Lesser Redpoll, Swallow, Meadow Pipit, Skylark and more Brent Geese heading South. A breif spell of seawatching later culmuating in yet more geese, as well as a number of Common Scoter passing by with some haste. Alongside the winter vistors that remain here for the duration of the season – Red-Throated Divers, Great Crested Grebes and Sanderling.

Autumn is, without a doubt, my favourite season. And one never knows what you may see given the right mixture of luck and favourable weather. The last few days have been marvelous, and the productive trend of arrivals looks set to continue well into next week if the Met Office forecast is anything to go by. I will try to squeeze in a few more outings in between monotanous spells of university work but, if the worst comes to frutition, I stand happy already. White’s Thrush and a plethora of more common migrants, more than enough to keep me happy for another season.

Eyes on the skies guys, you never know what may be arriving in the next few days and weeks.

Lesser Redpoll – pretty in pink!

Reflecting on Rewilding (once again)

Ever since I first picked up a copy of George Monbiot’s Feral during my time as an undergraduate, I have been a firm disciple of the phenomenon known as ‘rewilding‘. I concur fully with the notion of restoring our degraded ecosystems to a more natural state, I support the reintroduction of extinct species – on both ecological and moral grounds – and feel that the rewilding approach, first coined by conservationist David Foreman, is by far the best means of soothing the grievous wounds inflicted upon the modern British countryside. If this makes me a “fantasist” or “eco-zealot” then so be it.

A few years back, I would have jumped at the chance of dumping Bears, wolves and other extinct megafauna back into the Scottish Highlands, or elsewhere. I would have, quite merrily, ranted and raved at those opposed to rewilding and would have proclaimed my belief in the practice from any available roof-top. I still would. Though in recent years, I have mellowed somewhat in this regard, and now find myself taking a more tempered, even critical, approach to the subject. Giving particular thought to the logistics, feasibility and, from time to time, the ethics of the issue. Not that this makes me any less of a supporter, and indeed, I still cannot help but cringe whenever I hear someone dismiss rewilding outright – much as certain rural factions and notable personalities have done of late.

By [2] – [1], CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=37294448

Take for an example Robin Page, the former Telegraph columnist who recently published a blog on the subject here. I am not a fan of Page, largely due to his persisted bashing of conservation NGOs, TV naturalists and “designer” conservationists, but also due to his apparent belief that the only people who deserve an opinion on rural affairs are those who graft in the fields. Similarly, I abhor his dismissal of rewilding as little other than a poorly disguised attempt at class warfare, perpetrated by middle-class bunny huggers. It is not. And I cannot help but feel that like so many others, Page believes “rewilding” to revolve solely around the reintroduction of large, controversial carnivores. I do, however (and I cannot quite believe I am writing this), feel he is right about a few things. Even if they are presented in an unnecessarily antagonistic manner in the article shown above.

My personal stance on rewilding is that it is not, simply, about the reintroduction of large charismatic beasties such as bears, wolves and lynx. It is, to an extent – and I am a firm supporter of the ongoing efforts to reinstate Lynx, and the continued reintroduction of Beavers. These things, of course, have their place and come with a lot of ecological benefits, though some – bears and wolves – appear a little far-fetched at present. I hope, in time, that such ambitious schemes will come to fruition, though for me, rewilding is more of a “bottom-up” affair, involving gradual change and a shift in our combined mentality. As opposed to simply headline grabbing schemes sure to split public opinion.

Rewilding, to me, is about gradually restoring habitats to a more natural state and making small-scale gains which, in the future, may provide the basis for further reintroductions and wholescale change. It is about increasing our forest cover, replenishing our dwindling network of hedgerows, creating urban green spaces, supporting more holistic farming practices, restoring our wetlands and, above all else, educating people with regards to the benefits of such positive change. All of which, I believe – in accordance with Robin Page it would seem – cannot come at the expense of people.

Some of the more extreme supporters of rewilding, shall we say, appear to approach the issue like a bull in a china shop. Or, worse still, with a mindset not too dissimilar to that of those who governed the former British Empire, domineering and almost colonialist. Favouring land grabs and clearances and, it seems, showcasing a distinct disregard for the people caught up in the midst of the clamour. I believe we need such people, if only to push boundaries and promote dialogue, but cannot support this mentality myself. Nor can I buy into the flourishing notion that those who stand in the way of rewilding – farmers, gamekeepers, foresters, sportsmen etc – are little more than obstacles waiting to be overcome. These people, whether we like it or not, have a right to their way of life, and many, particularly farmers, have an important part to play. We cannot, after all, live without food. Thus I find our tendency to goad these people, and to ignore their worries outright, altogether counterproductive.

Rewilders have already made some wonderful gains – in the Lake District, in Scotland and further afield – though these, currently at least, remain rather isolated. The only possible way I can see to extend these gains across the entirety of Britain is through the combined voices of all. Not just of the few pioneering conservationists ready and willing to take a stand or our cash-strapped NGOs. We must find a way to make rewilding work for all, and dare I say it, realise that Britain will most likely never again resemble the wilderness it should be. There are simply too many people and too many vested interests in the countryside. This, however, does not mean that we cannot make the country a whole lot better. I believe we can, but only through cooperation as opposed to perpetual bouts of one-upmanship and bickering.

It is all well and good me saying that teamwork would be wonderful, though I am not so naive to believe this will come overnight. The countryside, at present, is far too polarised. Largely as a result of differing ideals – with some championing management, and others preferring to let nature manage itself. With a select few, much like myself, adrift in the middle. Agreeing with the arguments put forth by both sides, and wishing that everyone would just “suck it up” and find common cause.

Of course, I do not have the answers on how to fix our fractured countryside, though I do hold an opinion. And I, personally, would like to see an increased focus from conservationists, activists, campaigners and other groups, on reaching a mutually beneficial solution that works for both man and beast. Cooperating with farmers to push for a fairer system of subsidies post-Brexit would be a good start. Subsidies which would not favour the wealthy, paying out based on land ownership, but would support those who actively work to the benefit of nature. Particularly smaller landowners, many of whom, at present, receive little recognition nor reward for the great work they do. I would like to see people actively campaigning for compensatory systems, ready and waiting to mitigate the losses caused by reintroduced fauna, and would like to see a concerted effort, from all sides, to tackle invasive species – you cannot very well aspire towards a “wild Britain” while we have half of the tropics running rampant around our nation. I would also like to see a greater focus properly defining rewilding – with emphasis on just what the process can do for the everyday man. From natural flood defences to more pleasant country strolls – the possibilities are endless.

Above all else, however, I would like to see a shift in the “I am right, you are wrong” mentality that abounds in our countryside, from both sides. I would like to see conservationists abandon the moral high horse and find common ground with those of opposing views. This certainly will involve compromise – this should be expected, we are somewhat of a minority after all – and would involve the adoption of a more pragmatic approach. One that involves listening, as opposed to dictating. Equally, however, I would like to see those radically opposed to rewilding accept that nothing remains the same forever, and that change must come in order to protect the wildlife and wild spaces we all adore, work in, work with or manage. The British countryside is broken and I see rewilding as the perfect means by which to fix it. If, of course, we choose to abandon our trenches and approach the matter as adults.

 

By Sven Začek – Photography by Sven Začek., CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12096440

Autumnwatch without taking a step

Sometimes it is necessary to simply sit back and wait for wildlife to come to you. To forsake the tendency to travel, far and wide, in search of wildlife, and simply wait in one place and allow nature to spring forth around you. This is what I have done on a number of occasions this week – choosing to test the “patience pays off” approach to things, and opting for some much more laid back birding around my local patch. My regular seat in the sand dunes that sprawl out along my small stretch of the Northumbrian coast, the perfect setting from which to enjoy the wonders of Autumn migration without taking a step. It really did work…

Perched amid the Marram fronds this week, coffee in hand, I found myself treated to a pleasant spell of migration watching. More of a trickle than a flood, by my own admission, but more than enough to keep me sated. The day beginning early with the familiar call of Meadow Pipits raining down from within the gloom. Innumerable birds passing overhead before the darkness finally lifted and a further 350 zipped over during the course of the day. Each and all heading South with some haste; in loose groups of ten or less at a time, often with another species secreted among their ranks. A Grey Wagtail, yellow tones and protruding tail standing out like a sore thumb amid the dulcet hue of the pipits; a few Pied Wagtail and, later, a small party of Siskin – all bound for more hospitable climes no doubt.

Waiting, the hours ticked by and the pipit passage gradually stilled, though other migrants soon took on their mantle. A dozen Skylarks, their melodic tones gradually fading as they too moved out of sight and next, a Great Spotted Woodpecker rising and falling above the beach. It’s undulating flight a clear giveaway, despite the distance between us. With these, a number of species I seldom see on passage. Species more often observed in my garden, within the local wood or patches of farmland. A Dunnock, four Bullfinch, a Reed Bunting and a Snipe: again, all heading South, followed promptly by the classic winter sight of a small flock of Mistle Thrush flying low about the waves – their machine gun rattle audible upon making landfall.

Speaking of the waves; with the passerine passage overhead soon wavering, my attentions inevitably turned to the sea. And, scope in hand, I soon set about observing the annual pilgrimage of some far larger characters. The first of which, a skein of fifty or so Pink-Footed Geese were quickly noted high above the surf. Followed, in quick succession, by yet more precursors to the forthcoming chill – ducks. Wigeon streamed south, some two-hundred of them to give a rough estimate. Most still looking somewhat drab, clearly moulting out of their less-appealing Summer garb. Later, a few dozen Teal, a female Pintail and two score Common Scoter, followed, finally, by ten Goosander trailing in their wake. Each and all resident species yes, but ones that increase tenfold during Winter. Visitors from Iceland, Scotland or the continent, though their origins matter not and all made for an interesting wait.

Gazing at the the white horses rolling, with some force, towards the beach, it was not just wildfowl on show, however. And species often associated with the more palatable climes of Summer and Autumn were also clear to see. Two Whimbrel headed South later in the day, as did a number of Sandwich Terns, and later, a large mixed flock of Hirundines – Swallows and House Martins – moving with purpose across the sea. Their numbers at the local roost sites – along the telephone lines of the nearby towns – having dwindled considerably in recent days. A pleasure to see, as always.

As the hours ticked by, my supply of coffee diminished and I began to fight the urge to depart, yet more migrants became apparent. Red-Throated Divers – not really a migrant, per say, yet a visitor to my patch nonetheless – came sporadically, one still bearing the vestiges of its crimson finery. Followed by a Great Crested Grebe and drawn-out string of Golden Plover – species which, like the divers, move on mass towards the coast in Winter. Though the real treat came in the dunes. A short stint admiring the local Stonechats – perched in somewhat stereotypical fashion on the yellowing stems of hog weed – revealing a less familiar character. A Whinchat, the first I have seen here no less, doing its best to blend it amid the aggregation of its commoner cousins. Not a sight that would set most birders hearts to racing, but good enough for me.

Wheatear

Departing, around midday, the steady stream of fleeing summer visitors, and arriving winter ones having ground to a halt, a few more titbits lay in store as I moved. A pair of Wheatear (not the one pictured above, that was taken a few weeks back) fed on the nearby footpath during a pause in the human traffic, and a Blackcap “tacked” from the brambles along the railway lines. A quick pitstop here revealing no less than eight birds, tossing back the now overly-ripe berries with a clear sense of urgency. Building up their fat reserves I suspect. With these, a few Chiffchaff and Whitethroat, and a Willow Warbler – potentially my last of the year – singing a half-hearted autumnal song from a nearby Willow. Perhaps the first time I have actually seen this species warbling from a Willow?

All in all, this weekend provided a welcome break from the normal, and somewhat monotonous travelling so often associated with my chosen hobby. Slowing down has its perks, and it was nice to witness the joys of migration first hand. Nothing overly rare, and as such many may scoff at my excitement, but all in all, a very enjoyable morning. And a welcome slice of avian respite before beginning my Masters degree this week.

Time to take wading birds off of the menu

This week, Chris Packham, no doubt feeling rather chipper following his exoneration by the BBC Trust over claims of bias put forth by the Countryside Alliance, launched a new petition. One calling for a moratorium on the shooting of critically declining species of wading birds, such Snipe, Golden Plover and Woodcock, in the UK. Stopping short of calling for an all-out ban, favouring instead a halt to the killing, during which proper research into the species declines can be undertaken. I hope, by a non-bias, independent body – not one that stands to benefit directly from the shooting industry. Naming no names of course.

Writing on the government petitions site, Chris highlights the woeful trends at the heart of the campaign: with Woodcock declining by 76% over the past 25 years and Snipe by 89% during a similar time frame. Going on to draw attention to the similar crash in Britain’s population of Golden Plover – which between 1993 and 2013 declined by 17% and 25% in England and Scotland respectively.

This petition has been widely welcomed on social media by conservationists, myself included, and has already gained over 2900 signatures during its first 24 hours. Though not all have welcomed it, with the Game and Wildlife Conservation Trust (GWCT) suggesting that a moratorium would result in the direct loss of suitable breeding habitat for Woodcock, with species-specific woodland management likely stalling with shooters unable to pursue their chosen quarry.

Personally, and this is just my opinion, nothing more – I agree in full with logic behind the aforementioned petition. I have signed it, and will encourage anyone else I come across to do the same. This issue has long been horribly underreported – doubtless overlooked amid the clamour regarding driven grouse shooting and hen harriers. Though, to me, it is of paramount importance and ultimately comes down to the need to reassess what counts as “fair game” for shooters in Great Britain. And why, in our day and age, we are still shooting wading birds in the first place.

Chris has already pointed out the downward population trends associated with the three quarry species listed above. They are all suffering, due, no doubt to a range of factors, with habitat management likely at the heart of the issue. Shooting, however, can no be ruled out as a factor. And even the GWCT who are, as their name suggests, altogether pro-shooting, have published findings suggesting that 17% of the Woodcock shot during the open season are indeed British breeding birds. As opposed to migrants, thus at odds with the commonly peddled line put forth by shooters. Who are we then to say that this is not having a detrimental impact on the overall breeding population of Woodcock? If anything, the lack of knowledge on the subject justifies the need for further, impartial research – which is exactly what the petition calls for. We cannot afford to keep killing without knowledge of the consequences, with this situation baring an all too familiar resemblance to the tale of the Grey Partridge. A species which, despite a prolonged and worrying decline, was still shot on mass until fairly recently.

The research undertaken during the proposed moratorium could go two ways, it could suggest that shooting is indeed a factor in the decline of said species, and thus highlight the need for a ban. Something I would support. We did, after all, stop shooting Capercaillie when we realised they were in serious trouble, with the same currently happening with Black Grouse. Why then are we ignoring the woeful decline of our wading birds?

Of course, it would also go the other way, and suggest that shooting is not, in fact, detrimental to wader populations. It would not hurt to know either way, and personally, I find the GWCT’s opposition to the idea completely ludicrous. Especially seeing as such a study could work in their favour and prove their prior assumptions correct. A doubtful prospect, but a possibility…

And then we come to the argument in favour of shooting wading birds, if in fact there is one – I am yet to see a convincing argument put forth to justify the killing. With tradition the only possible explanation for the continued actions of the shooting fraternity. Though tradition itself is, in my opinion, not sufficient to justify slaughter absent thought of the wider implications. And if the hunting act has taught us anything, it is that traditions, however firmly rooted in British culture, can be broken. But anyways…

 I cannot help but believe that the economic argument put forward in defence of Grouse shooting is somewhat void in the the case of waders. Shooting itself is a rather niche hobby, and among shooters it is only a minority which actively hunt wading birds. Making the killing of Woodcock and so forth a niche hobby within a niche hobby. Few, I suspect, pay huge sums to take part in the act, and as these are entirely wild birds, unlike Pheasants which require yearlong care, few people are employed to facilitate the hobby. It is economically insignificant. And does not, in any way, shape or form, bring in “huge” sums of money to rural communities.

These species are also, unlike other game birds, not particularly famed for their culinary uses. Sure, a few hunters doubtless consume their catch out of principal, but you rarely see Snipe for sale in Supermarkets, or indeed your local butchers. The shooting for food argument is similarly obsolete in this case.

Can shooters then argue, as the GWCT does, that shooting such species benefits there conservation status? Well, not in my opinion. As despite the best efforts of hunters to maintain enough suitable habitat to benefit their crop, the birds continue to decline. And if a future ban ever came to fruition, some species-specific legislation could make management for these species compulsory. Thus rendering the “conserve to kill” argument obsolete.

There is, of course, also the argument that centres on the moral side of things. And many doubtless would rather see their Golden Plover or Snipe alive, as opposed to dead. I, however, will leave this argument for someone else to tackle.

I firmly believe it is time to reassess what hunters can, and cannot kill in the British Isles. But in the absence of a complete ban, would settle for a moratorium that would allow the effects of shooting on our declining waders to be properly assessed. As such, could I ask anyone who happens across this blog to please consider signing the petition below:

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/167410