Tag: Blyth

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

I have not ventured outside much recently: due to Masters work, plotting for New Nature and various other, more tedious tasks. All of which, combined, has lent a distinctly special feel to recent ventures. The first of which, taking place in the company of the lovely Sacha Elliott, found me dashing off up the coast, towards Druridge Bay, and the second, ambling about closer to home at Blyth. With both forays yielding fruit (albeit of the feathered kind) and solidifying my fondness for my native Northumberland in Winter.

Our visit to Druridge started well, albeit on a rather familiar note: with skeins of Pink-Footed Geese raining down like confetti and scores of flashy ducks. The floods at Druridge Pools holding a pleasant assemblage of Wigeon, Teal, Gadwall, Shoveler, Tufted Duck and a particularly handsome drake Pintail – ever one of my favourite birds. Here too a female Long-Tailed Duck, delightfully monochrome, gave good views and other waterfowl on show included a group of Red-Breasted Merganser and veritable legion of Canada Geese. Species, each and all, whose numbers swell in Winter as a result of their annual migration or, as is the case with the geese, much more localised movements.

Ducks aside, the morning began to progress quite nicely as we made moves to depart: a close encounter with a Sparrowhawk signalling the beginning of what was to be a rather excellent morning for raptors. The hawk soon followed by a Kestrel – the first of four noted during the morning – two Buzzard and, better still, a Merlin. The latter making a brief pass through a Starling flock before whizzing off, with characteristic speed, never to be seen again. The high derived from the Merlin soon amplified: with a tantalisingly brief encounter with a female Hen Harrier – a scarce occurrence these days – and, arguably better, a superb female Peregrine watching the world go by on the shores of a nearby lake.

As the raptors dwindled, more delights followed: Tree Sparrow, Yellowhammer, Stonechat, Snipe and yet more geese keeping us entertained until we made the decision to head a short way North, in search of a much more sought after seasonal scarcity – Shorelarks. Six of which we enjoyed in solitude after a brief saunter over the sands at Chevington. This flock not half as confiding as other birds I have seen elsewhere this year, yet no less enjoyable. Their characteristic yellow and black markings providing a welcome change from the varying shades of taupe currently setting in across the area as the season advances.

Back home, on the patch, things were far less thrilling: no brightly coloured larks or majestic harriers here. Not to say that the avian signs of the shifting season were not abundant – the estuary now brimming with a plethora of waders. Curlew, Dunlin, Redshank and Lapwing the most numerous this day yet interspersed, in places, by a few others: with Grey Plover, Black-Tailed Godwit and a lone Sanderling. The channel too holding life: with Teal numbers having increased to a modest c130 and Gadwall to 14. With Goldeneye present too –  represented by a pair of handsomely iridescent drakes – and other goodies including Little Egret, Eider, Goosander and a wayward Guillemot. The real treat coming later, on route home.

Heading back along the bridleway, the hedgerows teemed with life. Redwing, Fieldfare and Mistle Thrush, those habitual signs of the season, common-place, and finches awfully abundant. A trend stretching, surprisingly, to two of the scarcer species here: with both Greenfinch and Bullfinch plain and obvious amid the fray. Both soon forgotten as, moments later, a small flock of Waxwings – nine in total – dropped in to exploit the few Hawthorn berries not yet snaffled by the thrushes. A familiar sight this year – I alone have seen over 300 this winter – yet no less beautiful as they feasted. Their vibrant colours uplifting in the jaded sun and their crests buffeted by the building breeze.

At home, the Grey Wagtail which, rather oddly, appears to have taken up residence on my street remains in evidence, and a quick peek into the summer house revealed an impressive hoard of seeds. Sunflower kernels pilfered from next-door’s feeders no less: the Wood Mouse currently residing among the pillows who rendered the shed unusable some weeks ago, still quite at home. To my delight, and the annoyance of other family members.

The Heralds Of Winter

When my mind wanders, I struggle to think of a bird that raises a clamour among those of an avian inclination half as much as the Waxwing. A species which, to me, embodies everything endearing about British wildlife: confiding, colourful, charismatic and a joy to behold, whatever the weather. Living on the East coast – often the best place to encounter Waxwings, should they arrive – these birds are the true heralds of Winter. And following last week’s fleeting encounter, a few days past I was lucky enough to find a flock of my own. Enjoy the visitors in welcome solitude as they fed for half an hour in the grounds of my local pub.

Setting out after first light, the jaded sun of the transitional period between Autumn and Winter ascending, I had expected to find a few Waxwings. They are, after all, rather numerous this year: with flocks numbering well into the hundreds prevalent right up the coast, and smaller parties cropping up in almost every county in Britain. I was not, however, expecting to find one such large flock mere five minutes from my front door. But I did, with over 140 Waxwings unearthed in the grounds of the Bank Top pub, in Bedlington. The birds showed marvellously in the breeze, punk-rock crests blown into a whole manner of comical shapes as they scoffed the few remaining Whitebeam berries still clinging to the denuded trees. The flock occasionally rising, calling and returning once again, as dog-walkers passed, oblivious, under their perch. It was all rather lovely.

Spurred on by the seasonal spectacle unfolding on the edge of my local patch – where urban sprawl meets Country Park. I soon opted for a walk around the estuary, where two more Waxwings fed amid a tangle of Spindle in the company of a few Redwing and a lone Mistle Thrush – yet more winter visitors to the patch. Birds which, alongside the numerous Blackbirds exploding from every thicket, made for a most enjoyable half-hour amid the thorns. The real treat, however, came on the estuary itself where yet more Winter visitors fed on mud left exposed in the wake of the retreating tide.

Here some 120 Dunlin fed, dainty feet working flat out as they swept the flats in an unruly rabble of pale feathers. Redshank were numerous, with at least 100 observed, while other familiar characters had likewise arrived in force: Curlew, Oystercatcher, Ringed Plover Turnstone and, better still, a dozen Black-Tailed Godwits. A species that I seldom recall seeing during my childhood here, that now appears to have replaced the dwindling number of Bar-tailed Godwits on the Blyth. I wonder why? Topping off the leggy smorgasbord, 50 Lapwings soon dropped in, metallic calls resounding over sludge; quickly followed by 300 or so Golden Plover. A quick scan of the flock as they descended revealed a single Grey Plover huddled amid their ranks. Surprisingly inconspicuous, despite the colour difference.

Elsewhere on the Blyth duck numbers remained low – last weeks Wigeon having departed and still no Goldeneye or Gadwall back from their travels. Sixty Teal, two-dozen Mallard and a dapper drake Red-Breasted Merganser the best I could muster. There is still time yet. The blow softened somewhat by the presence of a somewhat out of place Little Grebe in the harbour, a Little Egret and three Grey Wagtails looking far from grey in the growing light. The journey home revealed a Dipper, a little upstream, delving in and out of the river where it narrows and the saline waters of the estuary blend with the fresher outflow of the River Blyth.

Checking back in at the pub, the Whitebeams stood bare: of both berries and Waxwings. The earlier assemblage gone and two peeved birders the only indicator as to their former presence. It mattered not.

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.

#PatchChat: No Place Like Home

There really is no place like home. Having arrived back for some much needed TLC following two months surveying in the Highlands, this week I set about reacquainting myself with the local patch. My how things have changed since I departed at the back-end of Spring.

The Blyth is certainly in bloom at present, the meadows (verges left to grow wild by the local council) alive with resplendent purple and radiant yellow. The blooms of Black Knapweed, Yellow Rattle, Trefoil and Common Spotted Orchid too numerous to count. Elsewhere the areas of waste-ground are looking similarly kaleidoscopic, Biting Stonecrop and Viper’s Bugloss two of the more impressive finds over the last few days. The towering, sapphire blue blooms of the latter providing a real draw to bumblebees with no less than six species noted today alone. Elsewhere, the wood has begun to resemble somewhat of a tropical rainforest, overgrown and very, very green. Bramble, Balsam and some truly colossal Butterbur leaves rendering some areas totally impassable. Perhaps I should invest in a machete?

(From the top) Dog Rose, Yellow Rattle, Common Spotted Orchid & Viper’s Bugloss

The various leafy areas of the patch have, of course, proven irresistible to insects, with butterflies a particular delight this week. Ringlet and Meadow Brown two of the more common species but augmented, in some places, by a healthy dose of Speckled Wood, Green-Veined White, Common Blue and Large Skipper – a real favourite of mine with their vibrant orange/gold wings and short energetic flights. As ever though, it has been the birds that have enthralled the most and, at present, the Blyth and her surroundings are positively bursting with avian life.

Each bush it seems now plays host to fledged young of some description: juvenile Blue Tits with their delightful yellow tinge, immature Stonechats, Robins, Wrens and thrushes. Warblers too are numerous at present, with the area brimming with newly liberated Chiffchaffs. Most of the adult warblers are now singing again, hoping to attract a mate and raise a second brood. Of these, a handful of Grasshopper Warblers reeling from the riverside scrub were perhaps most exciting, with the exception of the years first Reed Warbler emitting its characteristic scratchy chords from the outflow pools. Add to them a plethora of amorous Willow Warbler, Sedge Warbler, Blackcap, Whitethroat and Chiff and you have the makings of a true summer spectacular. Only Garden Warbler continues to elude me..

Speckled Wood, Ringlet and Cheilosia illustrata

Down on the estuary – where I spend most of my time – wader passage has started again, though with more of a fizzle than a bang. A smart looking Greenshank has been in residence for the last few days, feeding on the flats and then retiring to roost alongside the fifty or so Redshank already back. Likewise, each day this week has provided sightings of Whimbrel and a nice mixed flock of Dunlin and Ringed Plover is already accumulating. Presumably, most of these will be failed breeders, returning early after having their nests pilfered by a predator on their breeding sights. Though not in all cases it seems, a juvenile Ringed Plover observed yesterday – its washed out sandy hue contrasting nicely with the more vibrant shades of the adults surrounding it. Elsewhere eleven Turnstone were noted, some of which clad in their ruddy summer finery and three Black-Tailed Godwit were seen. Alongside, of course, an ample supply of Curlew and Lapwing. One only hopes that upon my return in August, something a little scarcer may be found..

The waterfowl of the Blyth, are looking a tad less impressive at present – befitting the summer season when most ducks enter their gloomy eclipse phase. Eider are back in force, some females boasting small broods of wonderfully fluffy ducklings, a trend apparent in the Mallards and Shelducks too. Seventeen Goosander have now built up in the estuary, fishing amid the broken piers of Blyth Harbour most days while elsewhere other aquatic bits and pieces include Teal, Gadwall, a record count of six Canada Goose (unusual, I know) and the odd Mute Swan. Though this does not take into consideration all of the goodies seen on the sea of late. The highlight comprising a single Manx Shearwater heading North yesterday. Closer to shore a feeding frenzy of Gannets was nice to see while a mixed bag of Arctic, Common and Sandwhich Tern, Guillemot, Common Scoter and Shag soon resulted in me losing track of time and spending hours rooted in the sand dunes.

What else? Well a short walk down the road on Monday yielded a welcome touch rarity in the form of the long-staying Bonaparte’s Gull on the Wansbeck Estuary. A new species for me and an educational one if that – half way in between a Black-Headed Gull and a Little. Closer to home, a few hours spent roaming the reaches of the wood produced all the typical characters: Nuthatches transporting food to their nest hole, fledged Treecreepers (another first for me), drumming Great Spotted Woodpeckers and a Buzzard. The latter traversing a branch with what looked to be a vole clasped in its talons. Feeding young perhaps? I have suspected that they breed here for a few years now but have always failed to turn up definitive proof. Perhaps that is best. Elsewhere the Dipper pair continue to feed their ever growing chicks and a particularly confiding Grey Wagtail left me grinning like a Cheshire cat. Lovely birds.

Oh, I forgot to mention a brief glimpse of a Harbour Porpoise on Tuesday..

This will no doubt be the last patch update for a while, duty calls and come Tuesday I will be back off to the uplands. Hopefully to enjoy more tantalising encounters like those shown below, all taken during my ventures over the past few weeks.

Ptarmgain

 

 

 

 

Soaking up Spring on the local patch

Spring is well and truly here and the the last few days have been nothing short of glorious. Invertebrates emerging from hibernation, migrant birds fresh from Africa and a surplus of beautiful wildflowers bursting into bloom – the tedium of winter has been well and truly banished it seems. Of the plentiful wildflowers on show, it has been the yellow ones that are most apparent – Gorse, Broom, Dandelion, Colts-Foot, Lesser Celandine and, of course, Daffodils providing a true feast for my winter-weary eyes. Not to mention the first Ramsons and Bluebell blooms of the season.

My time this week has been split equally between the three habitat types that make up my humble Northumbrian patch; the Blyth Estuary, the dune system between Blyth and Cambois and the cracking stand of deciduous woodland that is Ha’Penny Woods Local Nature Reserve. There has been an awful lot to see here of late so I thought I best jump right into it with a not so brief summary of this weeks antics. I apologise in advance for the prolonged bird-based waffling..

Starting out at the coast and things have proven rather lively of late – each trip accompanied by a light passage of hirundines heading North with some haste. Sand Martins have been most numerous, a good dozen passing by and a further ten now back at a favoured nest side. With these perhaps a dozen Swallows and four House Martins, my first of the year. Wheatear seem to have tailed off after their initial arrival though Meadow Pipit and Skylark remain numerous and a good c40 Linnet have now materalised, seemingly from nowhere. Elsewhere here three pairs of Stonechat added a welcome touch of glamour, a Mistle Thrush foraged amid the wrack – weird right – and a walk around the adjacent scrubby areas provided a hearty mix of common passerines; Bullfinch, Long-Tailed Tit and four Song Thrush perhaps the most noteworthy. A Water Rail here came as somewhat of a surprise however; this individual struggling with a rather large food item which later turned out to be a newt! That is certainly a first and, despite the untimely demise of said newt, was quite interesting to see.

Of course, while visiting the coastal expanses of the patch it would have been rude not to put in a few hours seawatching. Two stints on my favoured dune this last week turning up a decent array of maritime species. The best of these was certainly the returning Sandwich Terns; a count of twelve birds today my highest of the year so far. Gannets continue to feature, as of course do Eider while the two Red-Throated Divers still lurking offshore have now morphed into their impressive summer garb – red throat and all. Other highlights here of late include Common Scoter, Guillemot, Kittiwake, Fulmar, Razorbill and Red-Breasted Merganser while today found me squinting to get better views of a very distant group of Skuas heading north in earnest. Probably Arctic but I will never know. Better still, today found White-Fronted Goose added to my every growing ‘patch list’. A small flock of five birds passing high over head  as I packed up to leave – marking my latest record of this species in the UK to date! I honest wouldn’t have been able to identify them if it wasn’t for their unmistakable barring illuminated nicely by the early morning sun. Not a bird I expected to catch up with in late April.

Moving on to the Blyth estuary and the theme of returning migrants continued here also. Two Whimbrel were noted on two occasions – one of which posed for a rather dreadful ‘record shot’ that can be seen above. A pair of Common Sandpiper were likewise new for the year while the surrounding scrub is now bursting with the song of both Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff. Hirundines featured here also, as did two Avocet while a few Black-Tailed Godwit remain, looking undeniably handsome in their rustic summer plumage. Visitors aside; the pickings have been far from slim on the Blyth. The harbour area continues to hold a few Guillemot and Red-Breasted Merganser, as well as a great deal of courting Eider while elsewhere a quick tally of the more regular waders revealed; 72 Redshank, 32 Turnstone, 20 Curlew, 26 Oystercatcher and a lone Lapwing. Wildfowl wise, Shelduck remain the only numerous species – some 70+ still in attendance. A few Gadwall, Mallard and Teal comprising the ‘best of the rest’ so to speak.

Upstream towards Ha’penny woods things remain similarly lively. Blackcap have arrived back on cue – six males noted on my last venture. Their scratchy call a welcome addition to the choir of woodland birds now in full song. Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff proved numerous here also while elsewhere a quiet hour perched amid the sites vast swathes of ‘Wild Garlic’ produced nice views of Jay, Goldcrest, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Nuthatch and the usual medley of tits and finches. Combing the inland reaches of the River Blyth failed to produce my long awaited Kingfisher though two of each Grey Wagtail and Dipper were graciously received.

Of course birds are not the only thing on offer around Blyth and as usual my attentions have wandered to other species. A snoozing Roe Deer proved enjoyable, as did a the surplus of Rabbits that seem to have reappeared of late. With these, a nice mix of Small Tortoiseshell and Peacock butterflies and at least four species of bumblebee. These however conclude this weeks offerings…

Spring has Sprung!

Spring has finally sprung over my little patch of coastal Northumberland it seems. Bees, buds, butterflies and a whole host of interesting birds making the last week or so an entirely enjoyable affair. Despite the resurgence of some much loved species, the weather has left rather a lot to be desired; hale, rain, sleet, strong winds and occasional bouts of sun triggering a number of mad dashes and homeward sprints. Perhaps I should simply use the term variable? Anyways, below is an account of the last weeks wanderings, the counts of species seen representing the peak number observed during any one outing. As you can see, I have been spoiled for choice of late..

Uncharacteristically, I thought I would start this entry on a brief entomological note. As ever, as winter transitions into spring, invertebrates begin to emerge from hibernation. This year I have endeavored to keep track of my “first sightings” in much the same way as I do, each year, with birds. The first winged beastie to reappear at Blyth was a Common Wasp on the 26th of March followed closely by a Buff-Tailed Bumblebee queen on the 28th. Next came Common Carder Bee and Peacock butterfly on the 30th and now, on the 1st of April, a delightful queen Red-Tailed Bumblebee. The latter at first appearing somewhat moribund by the roadside – something which prompted me to take the critter into a the house for a spot of TLC. A few spoonfuls of sugar water (50/50 mix as recommended) and the damsel in distress was soon fighting fit and off on her merry way in the garden. Hopefully to start a colony somewhere nearby.

 Elsewhere this week the other noticeable indicator of the changing season has been the birds, namely – the large scale arrival of Chiffchaff into the area. Indeed, quite a few of these returning migrants have been noted this week, most heard as opposed to seen as they voice their monotonous call high in the canopy. Four individuals were heard singing in Ha’Penny Woods followed by more birds at Cambois, Sleekburn, Bedlington and Blyth. It’s great to have them back even if they are the only migrants to make it back to the patch thus far – the hirundines and Wheatears seen locally largely avoiding me. Drat.

Aside from the aforementioned little brown jobs, the areas additional bird-life has also delighted. Ha’Penny woods, now bursting into leaf and rife with the smell of Ramsons, throwing up a nice bag of atypical woodland species. Here Great Spotted Woodpeckers are knocking near constantly while the local Nuthatches have also proven somewhat vocal. Long-Tailed Tits (Lollipop Badger-Birds, according to a recent RSPB meme) remain equally numerous this week, scattered troops seen on various corners of the patch. They have in fact been rather numerous all winter, no doubt the mild temperatures leading to reduced mortality – in keeping with the recent findings of the Big Garden Birdwatch. Won’t catch me complaining!

Aside from these; Ha’Penny also came up trumps with Siskin, Bullfinch, Song Thrush, Treecreeper and Goldcrest among an array of more run of the mill odds and ends though the highlight here has to be the pair of Grey Wagtails that appear to have taken up residence around one the sides woodland pools. Both birds foriging, each day, amid the blooming Marsh Marigolds – a pleasant sight if ever there was one.

Moving on and as ever, the majority of my time has been spent around the estuary – the centerpiece of the patch. Here things remain fairly stable although wader numbers have plummeted astronomically – birds no doubt heading back off to their breeding grounds. The remaining birds have not disappointed however, two Avocet still in residence alongside a peak count of 8 Black-Tailed Godwit, some of which now fully kitted out in their delightfully rustic breeding attire. Three Knot were also seen, all be it distantly while the usual cast of Turnstone, Curlew, Oystercatcher and Redshank helped kill some time during quieter spells. Contrasting with the waders, wildfowl numbers have not yet tailed off on the Blyth. The only exception to this being the noticeable absence of the three wintering Wigeon and a slight drop in Goldeneye numbers – only two of the latter now remaining. Shelduck remain numerous, some 65-75 now apparent alongside a similar number of Teal and 14 Gadwall. With these, and bypassing the ever present Mallards and Mute Swans, 35 Eider, a female Goosander and two splendid drake Red-Breasted Merganser. Some “fly over” additions to this list being a few skeins of Pink-Footed Geese heading North and flock of 14 Whooper Swans passing low over the nearby industrial estate.

Spending some time on the coast, snuggled in my adopted hide at Cambois similarly yielded some good birds this week though these were few and far between. A handful of Red-Throated Diver remain, one of which now actually sporting a red-throat (ooft). With these a nice mix of Guillemot, Razorbill, Shag and more Red-Breasted Merganser, all of which will surely depart for more favourable climes in the coming days. An adult Gannet flying south today provided a breath of fresh air, as did the presence of some 25 Kittiwakes feeding quite far out with another, an immature individual complete with characteristic black “w” markings, flying overhead as I rambled along the beach. These aside other tidbits  here included; 4 Fulmar, 3 Lesser Black-Backed Gull and, this morning, a superb Mediterranean Gull – the latter my first Patchwork Challenge tick of the month.

What else? Well, the walk between the coast and home proved fruitful. Meadow Pipit and Skylark singing in various locations and an alba “White” Wagtail foraging in the dunes. The same dunes also held 3 Stonechat, all of which proved as confiding as ever. Further inland, picking my way back through the various sections of farmland contained within the patch boundary turned up Yellowhammer, Reed Bunting, Kestrel and, perhaps best of all, a Grey Partridge singing from the cover of a thicket – if indeed you can all the peculiar croaking noise they make a song. A single Red-Legged Partridge was also seen, standing idle on a roadside verge, while passing back over the Sleek Burn two Little Egrets lifted before dropping back onto the mud to feed. These, alongside the resident pair of Water Rail – both of which have been showing impeccably of late – conclude this weeks avian offerings. Not a bad haul eh?

Before I depart for the summer come late April I hope to catch up with a few more returning migrants. Surely a Swallow or two should be on the cards? Followed (I hope) by House Martin, Wheatear, Ring Ouzel and Willow Warbler. Of course, the possibility of an early Cuckoo, an Osprey or Whinchat will also keep me out and about and I intend to make the very best of my time at Blyth before my upcoming hiatus.