Tag: Nature

Writing for Northumberland Wildlife Trust

For the select few readers of this blog who also follow me on social media, you may have noticed that I recently volunteered my services as a would-be nature writer to Northumberland Wildlife Trust. With the organisation, following a couple of very friendly and supportive meetings, gladly accepting my offer.

For the foreseeable future, I will be contributing regular blog posts to the NWT website under a self-titled column; one focused entirely on the wonderful sights to be seen around my home county. Hopefully, highlighting the wealth of wildlife to be seen at Wildlife Trust sites around the region – with over 60 to choose from, I may well be busy – but also giving mention to accessibility. All in the hope of encouraging people to get out and about and visit the sites that have enthralled me since childhood. Stay tuned for posts regarding Druridge Pools and East Chevington, sites most regional naturalists know very well, but also writing regarding less publicised sites – hidden gems such as Big Waters, Prestwick Carr and Holywell Pond. My first post, centred on Northumberlandia, can be found here.

While writing for the blog, I will also be contributing articles to the trusts regional magazine: Roebuck. A fantastic document released quarterly to NWT members which touches upon everything from local conservation to seasonal wildlife. I am, of course, very excited to contribute to the magazine, and my posts here will take a similar tone to the above; focussed on the wildlife to be seen on NWT reserves. The only difference, in this case, being a greater focus on more elusive or underappreciated species – butterflies, moths, beetles and botanicals.

I am very grateful to the trust for the chance to better my writing skills and, of course, am delighted at the exposure set to be gained from such. More importantly, however, I am thrilled to find myself actively promoting my own region and its fantastic wildlife. At the very least, I hope that someone, somewhere, will be encouraged to experience a new place or a seek out a new species as a result. Who knows!

Metamorphosis

There has been an intermediate feel in the air of late; as Winter begins to release its frigid grip on the landscape and the welcome rejuvenation of Spring begins. Birdsong, amorous amphibians, butterflies and bursting buds marking the start of the new season while loitering relics of Winter remain very much apparent. It has all been rather wonderful, and I, for one, very much enjoy this time of the year. The sight and sound of nature as old yields to the new, utterly enthralling, at least for those, like me, beginning to grow weary of the chill.

This week has seen a number of firsts brought about by the tepid weather and advancing calendar; not least the sight of spawning frogs. With a grand total of fourteen descending on my small garden pond – depositing their spawn in a rowdy scrum of flailing legs and hormonal calling. The pond now jampacked with conspicuous globules of eggs – sure to give rise to a bumper crop of tadpoles as the season advances. Testament to the value of such humble places for our embattled amphibians.

Frogs aside, this week also saw my first Peacock butterfly of the year – making the most of the late Winter sun amid the blooms of a nearby garden – while other invertebrates are also on the wing. Wasps, hoverflies, White-Tailed Bumblebees and a number of small, brown, unidentifiable moths all appearing as if from nowhere in the house, in the garden, in the wood and elsewhere around the local area.

Change is clearly afoot in the local avian community too; marked by the resurgence of Goosander and Grey Wagtail on the local river – species too long absent from the confines of my local patch. The resident Dippers are nesting, tucked away beneath the crumbling arch of a nearby bridge; while the wood finds itself positively abuzz with the singing of lustful passerines. Robin, Blackbird and Great tit, the species who have sung since January, now joined by the undulating notes of Goldcrest and the flutey tones of Song Thrush. Five of which were noted in full song during my last foray into the depths of Half-Penny.

A trip into the uplands at the weekend was also characterised by the sights and sounds of change; the most obvious of which coming from the Lapwings. Their shrill calls carrying far and wide over the windswept heath, joined, at times, by the sound of Curlew, fresh in from the coast. With the presence of Golden Plover back on their traditional breeding territories not going unnoticed either, though all of these soon fell into insignificance upon the sight of three Black Grouse – one male and two females – foraging at close quarters in a roadside field. Not a sight particularly representative of Spring but an enjoyable one nevertheless.

As I mentioned in the opening paragraph of this Spring-inspired ramble; species most often associated with Winter remain very much in evidence also. Pochard on a number of local lakes – a rare sight in present day Northumberland – and no end of Pink-Footed Geese, Goldeneye and mergansers. The nearby bay pebble-dashed with the silhouettes of  Red-Throated Diver, Common Scoter, Guillemot and Razorbill; all yet to depart for their Summer abodes. Though it cannot be long now and here too, on the sea, the signs of Spring abound. An increase in the number of Gannets a clear sign of things to come, and the return of Lesser Black-Backed Gulls to the surf most welcome.

All in all, this week has been an enjoyable one; characterised by a wave of fresh life and mounting anticipation for the joys to come as the year trundles on. I look forward to warmer days full to the brim with swallows, wheatears and Summer warblers, but, for now, am happy to revel in the fluid, dynamic fortnight before the true Spring begins.

Snatching some wild respite

The last few weeks have been manic; jam-packed with university assignments and other, more menial, tasks. All of which, combined, have greatly impacted upon my ability to get outside and enjoy the sort of things I usually do at this time of year. It has all been rather frustrating in truth, and may well have proved somewhat depressing had it not been for a spontaneous outing this weekend past. A scarce free morning finding myself and the significant other darting off to Druridge Bay for a morning of wild respite.

The morning started well, the sounds of Spring filling our ears as we wandered aimlessly about the woodland that fringes Ladyburn lake; robin, great tit, greenfinch and goldfinch in full song from their respective, denuded perches. The experience here amplified by the sharp, chortling, call of a nearby willow tit and, better still, the sight of two kingfisher perched in close proximity amid the branches of a haggard waterside alder. Sapphire tones alive in the late Winter sun and content to watch as we ambled by. A good start.

Moving on to the lake itself and the usual suspects – tufted duck, coot and goldeneye – were starkly apparent; the sight of a small group of pochard amid the flotilla uplifting given their rapid and glaring decline in the county. The red-headed ones taking a backseat, on this occasion, however, as a familiar figure surfaced amid their ranks: the pacific diver. Not the target of todays venture following numerous visits over the past month but nice to see regardless. The close views obtained more than sufficient to highlight the various ID features of the rather delightful bird; one which we enjoyed in solitude for twenty minutes before it flew off South. Only to emerge moments later on East Chevington.

The feeders at the visitor centre were typically busy; with eight tree sparrows the highlight here amid the assembled ranks of the local tits and finches. Our pitstop proceeded by a leisurely stroll to Chevington where a small flock of scaup amused on the North pool. Further scanning later revealing a slavonian grebe – always a pleasure –  as well as a further eight pochard. The seasonal feel continuing here too; with eighteen black-tailed godwit passing speedily overhead (on route to their breeding grounds, perhaps) and the near constant passage of pink-footed geese; all heading North with some haste. Our time here accompanied the whole time by the sound of singing reed bunting which, in the weeks to come, will surely be joined by grasshopper warblers, sedgies and cuckoo fresh from Africa. I cannot wait.

Heading home; the beach at the burn mouth thronged with Twite – 95 to be precise – each making use of the grain supplied by some kindly local birders. The shorelarks were present too, albeit a little further out, and a total of eight skylarks ascended from the sand dunes to sing their merry tune above our heads. A sound which evokes warmer days, blooming wildflowers and emergent insects, and one that I hold incredibly close to heart.

Excluding a rather painful (and comical) encounter with some brambles towards the end of our trip, we enjoyed a nice day at Druridge. Now back to those pesky assignments…

Gull cull? No thanks

The last few days have seen an infuriating surge in the rhetoric of those calling for the control of Britain’s gulls; as campaigners clamour for the lethal action, red-faced MP’s bluster and the national press embarks on yet another misinformed wildlife witch-hunt. It has all been rather depressing, at least for those, like me, rather fond of our gulls. The situation made even worse by the horrendously bias coverage of the issue on television; by shows such as Good Morning Britain who appear content to make light of the situation and further inflame tensions, doubtless to the detriment of our wildlife.

Yes, tuning into ITV this morning – as I do most days – I was left appalled by the incredibly one-sided coverage of the issue by GMB. The relevant segment, presented by Ben Shepard and Susanna Reid (thank the lord Piers was not involved) and including an interview with Oliver Colvile MP, serving little other than to vilify our gulls through the endless use of scaremongering language, incriminating footage and unnecessary exaggeration. With said MP apparently forgetting that all gulls, as opposed to simply the Herring Gull, as stated, are protected to a varying degree by British law; and Susanna painting the natural process of predation – on this occasion between a gull and a sparrow – as some sort of grossly offensive crime. The whole segment was preposterous, in truth,

Given the level of coverage the gull issue has received of late, you would be forgiven for thinking that it represents one of the great wildlife management conflicts of modern times. And for believing the antics of gulls, particularly the larger species contained within the Larus genus,  paramount to those of other problem species;  to rabbits, rats and badgers that attribute to a significant amount of economic damage each year. Or perhaps  to invasive mink or squirrels, both highly detrimental to conservation efforts. They are not, and our grievance with gulls stems from little other than ignorance and mild inconvenience, as opposed to necessity. Our dislike of these birds born of human laziness and a reluctance to coexist with another successful, adaptive species. For this reason, I find the proposed cull of gulls utterly offensive.

There is no doubt in my mind that humans are directly responsible for the gull problem; by providing them with ample opportunity to misbehave. Something we achieve through our tendency to leave rubbish outside or place it in land-fill, providing an irresistible food source for gulls left hungry due to the continued human depletion of natural resources and the erosion of traditional habitats. The same applies when it comes to direct contact with the birds themselves: with many people content to offer titbits to hungry gulls when approached and others going actively out of their way to do so, thus habituating the birds to our usually frightening presence. Is it little wonder then that they return for more? Or that this behaviour has become widespread as more and more animals learn to exploit a new, inexhaustible food source? Surely this is common sense, or perhaps that is just me?

If you have not gathered already, I quite like gulls: big ones, small ones, rare ones, common ones, it matters not. To me, the piercing vocalisation of gulls is the quintessential sound of our seaside, and now, our cites. One I am content to revel in, and seldom annoyed by – a trend not shared by the residents of some urban areas it would seem. Though noise is hardly an appropriate reason to sanction a government lead cull, in my opinion; and those voicing such could easily save themselves the ear-ache by investing in double-glazing, or perhaps some earplugs.

My own, personal love of gulls is not, however, the reason I find myself opposed to the idea of a cull. No, that stems from the nature of Britain’s gull populations – with species such as Herring Gull and Lesser Black-Back, two of the more problematic species, currently declining at an alarming rate. So much so that both species now find themselves of conservation concern; with Herring Gulls removed from governments flawed general license for that very reason. The killing of gulls in our cities, or indeed, the proposed destruction of nests – as advocated by the not so honourable Oliver Colvile – would surely place yet more pressure on these already embattled populations; leading to further declines in the future. This cannot be allowed, and it does not take a genius to see that any such move would be folly.

What is the answer to our gull problem? Well, I do not quite know; though a change in human behaviour would be a step in the right direction. We need to clean up our towns and cities, invest in humane deterrents and, for gods sake, stop the deliberate sharing of food. More importantly, however, we need to adopt a more tolerant mindset – something regularly preached in regards to people but often forgotten when it comes to wildlife. Gulls, much like pigeons, are one of the few, hardy, creatures able to adapt to life in the present day – where natural habitats find themselves replaced by the endless sprawl of concrete and habitation.  A fact which should be celebrated; not condemed.

Header Image: Michael Mulqueen licensed under Flickr Creative Commons

Birding Northumberland Absent Wheels: January

The year start on a characteristically chipper note; my annual 1st of January foray with Sacha kicking off the year list with a decent 84 species. Though not before a dawn wander around my local patch – the Blyth Estuary – saw the usual commodities, Robins and what not, added in droves. Back with Sacha and the highlights of the day comprised ringtail Hen Harrier at Low Newton, 6 Shorelark at East Chevington, drake Pintail on Druridge Pools and a superb Peregrine on my old patch at Widdrington. Stag Rocks proved exciting, as always, with a dozen Long-Tailed Ducks close to shore in the company of the usual Red-Throated Divers, Guillemots and Common Scoter; while a mixed flock of Twite and Linnet fed in the nearby game-cover during the duration of our stay. Kittiwake and Gannet, provided nice winter ticks here, with Red-Breasted Merganser and Eider also new, though our attentions soon wandered and we set off South; noting Whooper Swans at Chevington and Woodhorn, Tree Sparrow and Little Egret at Cresswell and, finally, a flock of 8 Goosander at QEII County Park.

The ensuing week provided little of note on the run up to the county bird race; a juvenile Iceland Gull on patch at North Blyth the only exception to the rule. With Rock Pipit, Dipper, Grey Plover and Razorbill likewise new around the local area. The bird race proved much more exciting; a fantastic day out with Jack, Dan and Michael ending in victory with an impressive tally of 120 species. The highlights of the day including the discovery of a Glaucous Gull at Warkworth, a drake Scaup on East Chevington, White-Fronted Goose and Spotted Redshank at Budle Bay, Slavonian Grebe and Great Northern Diver at Stag Rocks and the Iceland Gull again at Blyth. Early morning found us adding not one but two Barn Owls near Bedlington, followed by Woodcock, Red Grouse and Tawny Owl further North; while belated year ticks included Kingfisher at Cullercoats, Pochard at Widdrington, Grey Partridge, Great Crested Grebe, Purple Sandpiper and Mediterranean Gull. A trio of Tundra Bean Geese at Hemscott Hill were also nice to see – a long overdue county tick for this limping Northumbrian birder – and a Chiffchaff near Amble came as somewhat of a suprise.

Outings over the following week were scant due to university, though a day out on the 12th with Jack came up trumps with distant views of the Cheswick Black Scoter and, towards dusk, Great Grey Shrike and Willow Tit at Prestwick Carr. The next tick coming on the 21st with exceptional views of Druridge Bay Pacific Diver as it fished on Ladyburn Lake, mere meters from amassed ranks of its admirers. Water Rail was likewise new here while a Willow Tit and an impressive flock of c100 Siskin entertained on route home. The next day finding me picking up Little Owl at Blyth Links and Brambling at Northumberlandia – the latter conveniently landing outside the window during a meeting with Northumberland Wildlife Trust.

The month wound to a close with the sight of 17 Ring-Necked Parakeets roosting in Newcastle – a queer sight up here in the North but one I suspect we will be seeing more of. A later trip around Morpeth allowed for the addition of Marsh Tit and Green Woodpecker – both difficult county birds in my opinion – while the female Black Redstart was finally unearthed at North Blyth. Two separate Waxwing encounters were also had this week; with c60 at Bedlington and a smaller group of 3 at Exhibition Park, Newcastle.

As it stands, January ends on a respectable (for a full-time student who does not drive) 136 species. My biggest omissions coming from Lesser Redpoll and Velvet Scoter; and some frustrating misses including Bittern, Short-Eared Owl, Long-Eared Owl and Merlin. The latter of which being the only one I am particularly worried about, for now at least.

Now that is why I go birding

Yesterday found me bound for North Yorkshire, for the second time in less than a week. The intended target of this particular jaunt; the rather eye-catching male Pine Bunting that has been thrilling (and frustrating) spectators for quite some time on the outskirts of Dunnington. A bird which, after an uncomfortable four-hour stay, we laid eyes only briefly; for all of thirty seconds before it disappeared, once again, into the stubble of a nearby field. Not exactly fair recompense for a day spent frozen in place, battered by the wind and perpetually frustrated by a number of misidentifications and near-misses, some may say. I would say differently, however.

With a grand total of nine hours spent staring at the same, rather uninspiring, patch of hedgerow, the Pine Bunting twitch was not a comfortable one. Neither was it consistently enjoyable. It did, however, remind me exactly why I dedicate so much time to the pursuit of our feathered friends. The burst of elation upon actually seeing the bird and the ensuing adrenaline rush quickly banishing the negative thoughts accumulated throughout the day. The sight of the bunting attributing to a gratifying sense of victory; a reward bestowed based on patience and previous exertion. The giddy feeling of delight, the kind that bubbles up when you finally track down your long-awaited quarry: that is why I go birding. The ascetics of the bird itself an added bonus, on this occasion, though this is not always the case.

Of course, there is more to the hobby than the birds themselves and, for me, the places play their part too. From idyllic areas of rural wilderness to sites of urban sprawl, each venture brings something new and unfamiliar. I have, of course, been to many beautiful places in search of birds – from the rugged highlands of Scotland to no end of gusty headlands – yet places such as Dunnington, humble and unassuming, appeal equally. Yesterday’s venture complete with no end of additional sightings; from yellowhammers feeding in urban gardens to tree sparrows, stock doves and, on a more exciting note, a good few Corn Bunting. All of which, at times, fed together in one enormous flock on the town’s edge – a new experience for me and an unprecedented delight to see so many red list birds in one place. A place that I would not necessarily venture too absent cause that was discovered and thus, enjoyed, due to one particular bird.

And then there are the people. While many favour birding for the solitude it can bring – there is nothing wrong with this – I am not one of them. I love the people the hobby brings me into contact with: the locals, the birders, the curious onlookers and the one guy who always gets too close to the bird. For me, each new bird presents a new social occasion; one where you may laugh and joke with friends – such was the case yesterday during the prolonged bouts of nothingness – and share experiences with other like-minded individuals. Of course, I dislike the egotistical listing talk that breaks out sporadically at any such event – comparing numbers is not for me – but for every one such person, there are fifty more willing to divulge useful tips and exciting stories. I learn equally as much listening to birders as I do watching birds, and yesterday trip was no exception.

There are, of course, myriad more reasons why I, personally, go birding. Among these; the constant reassurance provided by a post-dip McDonalds stands foremost among them, though this post gives a good idea of my main motivations. Yesterday’s twitch set my mind to thinking it seems; the experience warranting some thought as to why I engage in a hobby that other people think mad. Well, I believe I have answered that internal question.

Header image: Pine Bunting, courtesy of Francesco Vernosl, Flickr Creative Commons.

 

A quick life update

I have been rather quiet on this blog recently, at least by my usual vocal standards. I can assure you that this is because I have been incredibly busy – with work, writing and university – and not because my interest has waned. For those who follow this blog loyally (to my surprise, there are a few) and for those who actually possess some sort of interest in what I get up to, here is a quick update of recent happenings in the world of James…

  1. Masters degree. I have enjoyed some fabulous lectures of late, including enthralling (and eye-opening) talks from the likes of GWCT and Natural England, and am currently engrossed in my favourite module to date: policy and licensing. I have also secured some time on the fabulous Farne Islands to carry out my postgraduate thesis and, quite frankly, I cannot wait!
  2. Squirrels – I am continuing my voluntary work with my local Red Squirrel action group. Work which centres, specifically, on the control of greys in my local area. This is not an enjoyable task but it is rewarding; more so given the continued presence of Reds in the area.
  3. Other voluntary work – Following a recent meeting with some wonderful representatives from Northumberland Wildlife Trust, I have scheduled a second meeting with their marketing team in the coming weeks. It looks like I am going to be gaining some experience in communications in the future, while also helping out, where I can, with their social media and publishing efforts.
  4. New Nature – the magazine is ticking over nicely. We have recently taken on a voluntary web editor and are all set to publish our second issue on February 6th; with fabulous contributions from a host of talented young writers and some more familiar faces. Please stay tuned.
  5. Writing. Nothing published of late, sadly; though I have send off some pitches. I was, however, lucky enough to be featured in The Countryman today. Specifically, in a fine article by the magazines editor entitled “The New Young Naturalists” – Please check it out.
  6. Curlew. To date, I have raised a total of £435 for the BTO’s Curlew Appeal and will be partaking in the Yorkshire Three Peaks Challenge later this year, while attempting to raise more money along the way. I have also managed to quit smoking (well, vaping) and am starting to feel like the process may not actually be the death of me…

I do hope it all pays off in the end…

Here, there and everywhere in between

A busy week in the birding stakes with numerous trips around dear old Northumberland – as I attempt to stay true to my county year list promises – and a few jaunts further afield. This week’s haul of avian goodies taking my “Northumberland 2017” list up to a respectable (I think), 136 species for January – it would seem that I am on track, though I doubt that in the long-run I will be able to keep pace with the others attempting the same. Due to both my complete reliance on public transport and my unwillingness to hold my cards almost selfishly close to my chest. Though it is all for fun in the end and thus far, I am enjoying it.

Where to start? Well, last weekend found me dashing off for another look at the Pacific Diver languishing, at the time, at Druridge Bay Country Park. A short bus journey culminating in fantastic views of the vagrant as it fished, unphased by its admirers, some 10m offshore amid the assembled ranks of the local Tufted Ducks. The views obtained here far better than on my previous two trips and the experience amplified as the grating call of a Willow Tit emanated from the lakes scrubby peripheries. Later, a good sized flock of 80+ Siskin were noted on route home while a second Willow Tit was at Hadston.

The next (and less arduous) bus journey found me heading to Blyth; to a spot not far from my home in Bedlington where, after a few moments of gazing eagerly at some ramshackle farmland ruins, a Little Owl hopped politely into view. The first individual of this species I have seen in some time and a personal favourite to boot, despite their perpetually perturbed appearance. The trip home, after an hour alone with the owl, coming up trumps with a surprise flock of c60 Waxwing at Bedlington. The birds perched in a roadside Sycamore a mere 1/4 mile from my front door. Always nice to see and followed by a dusk jaunt to Northumberlandia where, despite missing my target species, a female Scaup and a few dozen Brambling were seen.

Next, a wander into the murky depths of Newcastle with the significant other in search of what has, for quite some time, been my nemesis species in the region: Ring-Necked Parakeet. Seventeen of which were quickly noted following a kind tip-off. The green-ones showing characteristically well as they jostled for position in their “favourite” tree, occasionally making breif flights over the nearby houses. A delightful sight in truth and always one I look forward too, despite the alien nature of the birds themselves.

Finally, the fourth bus of the week, today, took me to Morpeth; where an enjoyable few hours were spent combing through the various patches of woodland that line the banks of the River Wansbeck as it approaches the town. A dozen Brambling were nice to see here, as ever, and good counts of other common yet endearing species were obtained, with Jay, Nuthatch, Treecreeper, Bullfinch and Siskin present en-masse. Though these soon fell into obscurity when the sneezing call of my target species – Marsh Tit – was finally heard from the gnarled branches of a riverside oak. Followed, in quick succession, by an altogether surprising addition to the day’s haul: a Green Woodpecker. The bird heard on a number of occasions but giving only the briefest of views as it flew between trees. Not an easy bird to come by up here.

Sunny Morpeth this morning

 Further afield and I managed a few more prolonged jaunts this week, slotted between university commitments and other more menial tasks. The first taking both myself and Matt to the WWT’s Washington reserve where the adult drake Ferruginous Duck showed particularly well. A charming bird that I have put off going to see for some time whose copper colouring looked simply divine in the low Winter sun. A good rummage around the reserve – it would have been rude not to – turning up Willow Tit, Kestrel, Sparrowhawk, Siskin, Jay and, to my astonishment, 24 Bullfinch. I honestly don’t think I have ever seen so many in one place.

Heading even further South, this time in the company of some friends, yesterday provided another, even more alluring, lifer – White-Billed Diver. A bird that, given my unwillingness to travel to the far extremes of the country, I had accepted I would probably never seen. The quaint Lincolnshire river on which this hulking brute of a bird currently resides on a far cry from its usual abode and the views obtained – down to a matter of feet at times – superb, as opposed to distant and barely discernable. An attempt to end the day on an even higher note resulted in failure as we were outfoxed (twice) by the Yorkshire Pine Bunting; though the sight of 100+ Yellowhammer, c25 Corn Bunting and dozens of Tree Sparrow here was nice. Corn Bunting especially so, given the complete absence of the species in my local area and the woeful state of the UK population.

A few shots from Washington

Young Naturalists on Unpaid Conservation Internships

My views on unpaid, long-term conservation internships undulate substantially. On one hand, and from firsthand experience, I know the benefits such placements bring; in terms of the acquisition of skills, networking opportunities, personal development and, of course, contribution to the great work of our NGOs. I also, however, and again from my own experience, see such positions as exploitative, exclusive and rather detrimental to the sector as a whole. Believing wholeheartedly that volunteer culture decreases diversity in conservation by favouring those with money to flaunt and thus, time to spare.

I am aware that not all agree with my views on internships and that many actively support them, though the topic is one of great interest to me. So interesting, in fact, that a few days past, I put a simple question to a number of young naturalists on social media: what are your personal views on unpaid internships. A question asked absent any mention of my own personal views on the matter and intended to provide a general insight into popular opinion. The topic broached in coorindination with a rather interesting poll I am currently running from New Nature.

I can understand why some internships are unpaid – the field has limited funding, we all want more money to go into conserving habitats/wildlife than overhead costs – but it is unfair for fresh graduates trying to find work, especially if one has a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in relevant fields. Many jobs require at least one, usually five years of experience, but it seems impossible to get any experience without having to pay for it. The salary of higher executives in large NGOs can be quite high, and for interns to be expected to work for free is a discrepancy that blocks the younger generation from entering the field. This trend also disadvantages those of lower socio-economic classes who are not privileged enough to be able to afford to work for no/little money, and limits the diversity of conservationists. If organisations genuinely cannot afford to pay, there should at least be tangible beneficial outcomes for interns such as making an effort to find a job for them subsequently or putting them in touch with other organisations. Unpaid conservation internships exploit the ready supply of fresh graduates who want to do good but seem to be here to stay.

– Jocelyne Sze

Spending time getting practical conservation experience can be great, especially when you’re young and have time away from education to volunteer. However, I think that the feasibility for these unpaid internships, especially ones that require a lot of time and effort, rapidly drops away as soon as your financial responsibilities become a priority. Doing work for free that you know you should be getting paid to do isn’t a luxury that everyone has, and will leave many interested and qualified people unable to apply for these positions. That’s not a sign of a candidate’s commitment to conservation or lack thereof, it’s simply a matter of time requirements and financial burdens. This only makes it infinitely more frustrating when you find that the requirements of some internships are aimed specifically at graduates that will be looking to support themselves fresh out of university. I’m not saying people shouldn’t go for unpaid internships if they have the resources to do so, but employers should think carefully before offering them and consider that applications for unpaid internships won’t be from the most suitable or worthy candidates, but will be from those that are lucky enough to have the time and money to spare.

– Alex Evans

I’ve done two unpaid internships and the experiences couldn’t have been more different. The first was a year at two nature reserves with a major NGO. It provided some good experience but was poorly organised at times and even though some individual staff members were great with career advice it had an overall feeling of a conveyer belt. The second was a short-term placement with a major conservation project and everything was fantastic, the staff went out of their way to provide experience of all aspects of the project and it was a huge boost to my career skills. So overall, I would say that short-term volunteer placements or internships in conservation are acceptable, especially if they allow you to explore a role that in the paid ranks would be well above your current experience level. They are also probably easier for people to commit to with time and money.

With the full year unpaid internship I think the charities running them need a major reality check. I was lucky to be able to fund mine through a previous paid job but they wouldn’t be a viable option for many people for a whole range of justified reasons. We already know that conservation fails to attract people from a diverse range of backgrounds – so do they want to provide funds to create a dynamic and vibrant future staff base or for fancy visitor centres and “rebranding”? Another point to make is the job market – once you have finished the year options are limited – all these warden type internships do is to reduce the number of paid opportunities available once you have finished. It’s time they were consigned to the dark ages and people should be more vocal about it. How can you be expected to work for long periods of time for free to come out into a limited job market and then fund your personal long term security? Common sense suggests that this is totally unrealistic, especially when the organisations doing so pay some people as much as the prime minister!

– James Walker

Background: went to university; joined conservation society (hedge planting, scrub clearance etc.); got hooked; graduated; moved home; volunteered some more; landed twelve month traineeship with Yorkshire Wildlife Trust; twelve months chasing a fantastically knowledgeable man around Yorkshire; bow saws, chainsaws, pesticides, spades, rakes, rain, sunshine, wind, rain (yep, rain again), pond nets, training courses, physical exertion, laughter. There were three main positives for me: -I had a fantastic time -I learnt a lot, about the practical work I wanted to do, in a short space of time -The cliché of ‘networking’ (wink-wink, nudge-nudge, any jobs going?) I wouldn’t say there were any negatives, but just some things to think about: -I was lucky. I could afford it; my parents (and a pub job filling in all the gaps in my diary) supported me. I don’t think it’s possible to go unpaid if you haven’t got someone backing you up -Doing an internship doesn’t guarantee you a job straight away. It took me six more months of volunteering after my internship to get a job in the sector. And that wasn’t a permanent one. I certainly don’t regret it; best time of my life.

– Jonny Walker

I’m of the opinion that unpaid internships are around for a reason; they exist because there is a need for them! Habitat management requires specialist skills and knowledge, which unfortunately for some people, cannot be gained from a degree. At school we’re told to go to uni and get a degree to get a job but are not told what working in conservation actually involves. Graduates start applying for jobs but have no experience of using a chainsaw or spending all day in the pouring rain battling through chalk to install a fence post. Most conservation work is done by NGO’s who struggle for money and they just cannot afford to employ someone who doesn’t have the skills to look after a reserve. Unpaid internships are a way for people to gain this valuable experience and often expensive qualifications to land themselves a job. Maybe if we had better careers advice at school for people who wanted to work in conservation, so they did practical courses and gained skills that could get them a job, rather than spending three years in a lecture theatre, unpaid internships wouldn’t need to exist. Sadly that isn’t the case and if we want our nature reserves to be looked after by competent people then we need them!

– Beth Aucott

I couldn’t afford to do one. I needed paid work during all the holidays and breaks of my undergraduate degree so I could pay my rent. Not only could I not afford to not work for free, I could also not afford to travel elsewhere to do an internship. Would have loved to do one later but with a young family it was doubly impossible! If I could do it again I would have spent a few years working/saving and volunteering in cycles – but how much longer would that delay starting a career? Long, full-time unpaid internships are discriminatory.

– Patty Ramirez

New Nature: thank you all!

A few months ago, toying with the idea of starting up an online magazine written and produced entirely by young people, I had hoped a few people may rally to the notion. I had hoped that some may be interested in reading such a document and others, particularly a few notable figures in the environmental field may like the idea enough to support it. Well, as we countdown to the “official” launch of ‘New Nature’ on January 2nd, I can safely say that all expectations have been exceeded. Tenfold. And that I am incredibly grateful to the support we have received thus far.

The logic behind ‘New Nature’ centers on showcasing the natural world through the eyes of the next generation, and, perhaps more importantly, providing said young people with a supportive, open-to-all, outlet for their views. With this in mind, I was delighted when so many people expressed an interest in getting involved and bringing the magazine to life. And as such, must offer resounding thanks to Alex Pearce, Alice Johnson and Alysia Schuetzle for flinging themselves in at the deep end and dedicating an awful lot of time to creating our first issue. It really is appreciated.

The next round of thanks goes to our contributors: to the exceptional young people who, thus far, have contributed no end of passionate writing, excellent photography and other interesting titbits for inclusion in the magazine. Among these, many exceptionally dedicated young nature lovers I am familiar with through membership of A Focus on Nature, but also many more! Reading your work has proven nothing short of inspirational and has filled many usually dull Winter nights of late. I hope that all involved so far will enjoy the magazine and continue to submit articles long into the future!

Finally, I must also offer a huge thank you to all those who have supported ‘New Nature’ thus far. To each and every person who has drawn attention to our efforts on social media, reblogged articles and helped by alternate means. This includes Chris Packham, who has very kindly offered to provide signed copies of his fantastic new book ‘Fingers in the Sparkle Jar” as prizes to our contributors. But also to BSBI, The Wildlife Trusts, AFON and the BTO for helping promote our cause. I hope that, someday, we can repay the favour…

Really, I cannot stress enough how grateful I am for everything that has transpired so far. And I know I speak for the rest of the team when I say that I hope we live up to expectations. Of course, it is going to be hit and miss for a while until as iron out the kinks associated with a venture of this kind but, with your support, we are confident that in the long run, we can create something that is not only enjoyable but supportive and beneficial to our contributors.

Thank you and happy new year to all!

Top 10 Facts: The Tawny Owl

I heard a Tawny Owl last night. A nocturnal foray to my local store interrupted by an eerie, frightfully abrupt, yet oddly soothing shriek from the branches of a Sycamore in the local churchyard. A sound which I hear often, both in the countryside and closer to home, amid the houses of Bedlington, that never fails to stop me dead in my tracks. Haunting, to such an extent that it must surely have raised a few eyebrows in prehistory – when our ancestors, absent the comforts of modern life, still had reason to fear what lurked in the dark of our woods and other wild places. I am quite fond of the Tawny Owl.

In keeping with the season – when owls begin to vocalise more frequently as they sure up their territorial boundaries ahead of Spring – and with recent promises made on this blog to talk more of nature, and animals themselves. I thought I would put together a list of facts about this abundant yet seldom seen nocturnal hunter. For fun, mainly, but also as a brief tribute to what is, without a doubt, one of Britain’s most eye-catching and truly fascinating species.

  • Mistaken identity. The famed and often (wrongly) cited “twit twoo” call of the Tawny Owl does not actually exist, stemming instead from the work of Shakespeare. Who cemented the myth in popular culture with his renowned ‘Love’s Labours Lost‘. The sound actually comes from the back and forward conversing of male and female owls: from the sharp “kewick” of the female and the longer, more drawn out, hooting of the male birds.
  • A violent streak. Unlike the flimsier Barn Owl and the much more reclusive Long-Eared, Tawny Owls are not a bird to be trifled with. As shown by their ability to oust other species from nest boxes; from widely discussed territorial attacks on people and their ability to take prey species up the size of a rabbit. A violent streak renowned wildlife photographer Eric Hosking experienced first hand when, in 1937, he clambered up to a welsh bird hide and was blinded in his left eye by a particularly feisty owl.
  • Liquid aversion. Unlike Britain’s migratory owls – our “eared” species, principally – Tawny Owls appear to show an aversion to water. And are rarely observed crossing any substantial water body. This being the reason that the species stands absent from many of our islands – from Shetland, Orkney and the Isle of Wight to name but a few – and, more famously, why they remain absent from Ireland. Where in their absence, the Long-Eared Owl has become particularly abundant.
  • Copycat. It is incredibly easy to mimic the call of a Tawny Owl by simply blowing through cupped hands. With a study finding that almost 90% of male owls can be tempted into responding this way. Note: Jays too have been known to copy the characteristic call of the Tawny, with some suggesting that they do so as a means of locating the birds during the day, in order to mob them.
  • Avian assassins. We commonly associate the diet of owls with voles, mice and other small furry creatures, though the diet of the Tawny Owl is, in fact, an incredibly broad one. In urban areas in particular,  birds form a large portion of owl diet; with species such as Starling and Blackbird taken frequently. Although birds as large as an adult Mallard and Kittiwake have been reported taken by owls. And tawny owls have also been known to kill and eat both Little and Long-Eared Owls. Often persecuting their smaller kin to such an extent that the species cannot coexist within areas of suitable habitat.
  • Bad tidings. Historically, the Tawny Owl (and other owl species) was viewed as a harbinger of bad tidings. Associated with everything from witchcraft to the looming threat of death. This negative view of owls continuing for some time, demonstrated by the following, rather breif, verse by Sir Walter Scott: Birds of omen dark and foul, Night-crow, raven, bat, and owl, Leave the sick man to his dream, All night long he heard your scream. An owl, likely a Tawny Owl, also featured as an omen of death in Shakespeare’s “Macbeth“.
  • Surprise finds. Recently, a ring from Tawny Owl was recovered in Iceland – something which, at a glance, appeared to contrast with usually sedentary nature of the species. However, it later turned out that the ring had been collected from a dead owl by a birder who, in keeping with the quirky style of those of an avian persuasion, then attached the ring to his binoculars. Before traveling to Iceland, where the strap on his equipment broke and the ring was lost and later recovered. Source: BTO.
  • Turning tables. The Tawny Owl may rule the night here in Britain, but the species has been found to feature in the diet of a number of other creatures. Among these: diurnal raptors such as Buzzards, Goshawks and eagles, as well as Eagle Owls, Foxes and large mustelids. With the eggs and chicks of owls also vulnerable to predation; from rats, squirrels, and even domestic animals. Life for a Tawny Owl is not at all easy.
  • Hill Hooter. Across its range in the UK, the Tawny Owl goes by a host of different names. With comical terms such as “hill hooter” and “screetch owl” commonplace, and others such as “ivy owl” and “beech owl” used to describe the bird at roost during the day. Derived from the tendency of owls to conceal themselves amid tangles of leaves or within trees in order to disguise themselves from predators.
  • Kinslaying. Tawny Owls boast an incredibly high level of juvenile mortality, due to a host of factors including prey shortages and predation. Many young owls, however, are also killed by their own parents – as resident owl pairs, desperate to hold on to areas of suitable habitat, attempt to drive out their young. Some studies have shown that up to two-thirds of owls die this way in some years.

Wonderful header image credited to Andreas Trepte, www.photo-natur.net, under the wiki creative commons.

Wild Resolutions for 2017

I posted last week with regards to just how fabulous 2016 has been for me, both as a keen naturalist and aspiring nature writer. It has proven educational, at times challenging and altogether exciting. With that in mind, and in keeping with tradition on this blog, I thought I would set myself a few “wild resolutions” to keep me on the right track during 2017: scrapping the urge to be overly ambitious like I did last year. These are things I hope to adhere to, or achieve, during the coming twelve months and I am writing them here, in public, so I cannot back out of them at a later date.

  1. Diversify!  As a lifelong birder and butterfly enthusiast, my knowledge and identification skills associated with those groups are quite sound. While I am also quite at home with mammals, dragonflies, reptiles and amphibians, through both academic and professional work. A good naturalist, however, boasts a broad knowledge of the natural world and thus, in 2017 I intent to diversify my interests to include groups I am shaky with at present. While I have dabbled in the realms of botany, moths and fish before, these are perhaps the groups I am least familiar with, and as such, where I will focus an increased amount of attention during the coming year.
  2. Citizen Science! I have always contributed to citizen science schemes: most notably the BTO’s Birdtrack recording system – on which I have now logged some 60,000 records. I have not, however, given such things the attention they rightfully deserve – stupid really, given how much time I spend in the great outdoors. In 2017 I hope to up the anti, so to speak, on my Birdtrack recording, but also to venture further into the recording of additional taxa. Having set myself a easily-achievable target of contributing, also, to the Mammal Societies ‘Mammal Track’ scheme and targeting Lepidoptera through IRecord.  May as well use my time in nature for something productive, right?
  3. Write this bloody book! Under the “you don’t know until you try” pretense, I have been toying with the idea of a book for sometime now. And, at present, have drafted my first two chapters and an introduction I feel sounds half decent. My efforts have, however, waned somewhat of late – due in no small part my Masters degree and no end of personal projects. In 2017 I hope to change this, and give said book the time and effort it deserves – it may be in vain, in the long run, if no Publisher will touch me with a barge pole, but who knows. I am enjoying writing nonetheless.
  4. Return to “proper” nature writing! When I started this blog, quite a few years ago now, the majority of my posts consisted of sightings, site-visits and creative descriptions of the creatures with which I spend my time. This seems to have changed during the course of 2016: giving way to opinion pieces, informative posts and frustrated outpourings. While I will undoubtedly continue with the latter during 2017, I feel it is necessary to go back to my roots and work to develop my skills as a true nature writer. Hopefully, next year will see this blog teeming with more lyrical descriptions of wildlife and wild-places. I also intent to proposition a lot more media outlets this year and, ultimately, work further towards my goal of becoming a published writer.
  5. Give birding a boost! Now, this one is just for fun. And, partially, to keep me from going insane as I try to complete the other, more serious resolutions above. In 2017 I intent to bolster my birding efforts: to see more species, build my stagnating list and, when all is said and done, visit more fantastic places. I hope to catch up with the British species I have not let laid eyes upon – *cough* Hawfinch, Nightingale and Woodlark, foremost – and make a concerted effort to Twitch a little more. Spurred on by fabulous encounters with rarities during 2016. What is life without a little fun, eh?

40km for Curlew Conservation

The haunting call of the Curlew is one of the most iconic, and enjoyable, sounds in nature. Especially in Britain: where rippling trill of our largest wading bird evokes images of heather clad, misty moorlands and windswept coastal estuaries. It is a sound that ensnares many, myself included; though one that, sadly, is heard less often these days. With Britain’s Curlew population currently plummeting and the endearing birds spiraling ever close to extinction on our shores – the Curlew subject to a 46% decline in numbers between 1994-2010 alone.

The factors attributing to the decline of the Curlew are not widely known, though a number of explanations have been put forward. Among these, it is thought that climate change, afforestation, changes in farming practice and an increase in generalist predators such as foxes and crows may be to blame. All of which, through a decrease in suitable habitat and an increasingly low rate of nest success, have placed our breeding Curlew under substantial pressure. The situation facing the Curlew in the UK is not bright, nor hopeful, though while the causes of their woeful decline remain open to speculation, the importance of the British population of these endearing birds lies clear for all to see: Britain holds 28% of Europe’s Curlew population, and more must be done in order to protect them.

Thankfully, more is being done. In the form of vital research and monitoring courtesy of the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO). The body working to better our knowledge of the species and provide a sound, scientifically valid basis for future conservation work. Something undertaken through an extensive (and costly) program of ringing, GPS tracking, remote tracking and research. Work which, now more than ever, is vital if we are going to bring the Curlew back from the brink which cannot take place absent public support. This is why, following no end of brainstorming, myself and good friend Sacha Elliott have decided to do something positive and actively support the BTO’s recently launched Curlew Appeal.

When toying with ideas on how to raise funds for the appeal, both myself and Sacha wanted to do something a little out of our zone of comfort, thus something energetic seemed like the obvious choice. We are, after all (and by our own admission), not particularly fit. The reason why we have opted to commit to the Yorkshire ‘Three Peaks Challenge‘ during June 2017. To challenge ourselves physically and a fund-raise for what we feel is an incredibly important cause. We all cherish our Curlew, right?

The challenge takes in the peaks of Pen-y-ghent, Whernside and Ingleborough and involves some 40km of hiking over often challenging ground: accomplish-able in around 12 hours. This is easily the most walking that either of us have done before and will surely prove testing. Especially for moi, a beer-bellied former smoker with a particular aversion to anything that vaguely resembles exercise. It will not be easy but we are determined to see it through.

Prior to undertaking the trip next Summer, we have set up a Just Giving page to raise money for the BTO and have broadcast an open offer for others to join us in our venture. If you too would like to take part, and thus raise both funds and awareness for the fight to protect our Curlew, you can join our fundraising team. While equally, and perhaps more importantly, you can support our campaign both financially – if you can spare the change – or by sharing it with friends, family or anyone else you feel might like to donate. Every little really does help, and if we are to reach our team target of £1000, we will certainly need your help. And would be incredibly grateful if you would consider supporting.

If you would like to donate, or indeed, learn more about the project. You can visit ‘Just Giving’ through the link below. Though Sacha will also be distributing links to her fundraising page on social media too.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/James-Common2

2016: A Wild Year In Retrospect (Part 1)

It has become somewhat of a tradition on this blog to, near the turn of the year, dwell momentarily on the high-points of the months past. To look back over my experiences and attempt to rank them based on my own enjoyment – if only for a spot of personal amusement. Truthfully, 2016 has been brilliant year (my best yet): jam-packed with wonderful sensory experiences, great wildlife and memorable moments. It has seen me progress a little further towards goals, involved no end of travelling and, at times, has left me both dumbfounded and reeling. For those interested, here is this years reflective post.

1 – A Scottish Summer

As in 2015, 2016 once again found me in the highlands of Scotland: working as an ecological field assistant for a consultancy firm. A great little job, in truth, and one that saw me living and working in one of the most beautiful settings in the UK. Providing yet another chance to better my identification and surveying skills and, more importantly, allowing me to, once again, immerse myself fully in the best of Scottish wildlife. It really was rather fun.

Here, at various locations, I enjoyed Golden Eagles, Ospreys and Hen Harriers: some of the most enigmatic sights in British nature. I had up close run-ins with Ptarmigan, Mountain Hares, Red Deer and Adders; enjoyed the sight of hunting Merlin and the sound of “bubbling” Black cock. In addition to no end of Crested Tits, Crossbill’s and other highland wonders. It was delightful, though one sight here trumped all others in the splendor stakes: that of an immature White-Tailed Eagle skirmishing with an Osprey over a rather unlucky Trout. The eagle won, of course, and I left feeling thoroughly fulfilled, my love of the Northern wilds reaching new heights – as if that was possible.

Mountain Hare
????????????????????????????????????

2 – Fuerteventura Press Trip

On a surprising note, and due to a kind recommendation from TV’s David Lindo, February found me jetting off to Spain: to the unparalleled region of Extremadura as part of a press-trip involving no end of wonderful, accomplished individuals. It was quite strange to find myself in such esteemed company, more so when the grandiose nature of the trip is considered, though the week was undeniably fabulous. Here we enjoyed Cinnerous and Egyptian Vultures floating on the thermals above us: in addition to Spanish Imperial Eagles, tropical looking butterflies and no end of exquisite scarcities. The experience only amplified by a trip to the Spanish Bird Fair, an interview for their promotional video and, of course, the fantastic cuisine the region has to offer. My inclusion on the trip giving me hope that, despite a few slip-ups, I am on the right lines as far as my career goes.

White Stork

3 – Writing picks up

2016 has also seen me take a few more tentative steps into the realm of “true” nature writing, due in no small part, to the wonderful opportunity to contribute to not one but two of the delightful ‘Anthology for the Changing Seasons‘ books by Melissa Harrison. With my writing here – regarding the Chiffchaff and the Farne Islands, respectively – leading to chance contributions to other outlets including the Harrier and Dragonfly News. The initial feedback from which has gone someway to bolstering my confidence with regards to written word and provides substantial hope for the future.

Blogging efforts also found themselves doubled this year, here, on my own website and elsewhere. With my weekly column on Conservation Jobs going down a treat and opportunities presenting themselves to write for both Blasting News and Environment South Africa, in addition to guest posts for a host of wonderful online content creators. The year also marking my first full 12-month period at the helm of the Wildlife Articles blogging platform, which continues to grow nicely,. What will 2017 hold I wonder? I am hoping for more of the same.

4- Masters Degree

I am not quite sure why, at the start of the year, I decided to undertake a Masters degree. Or, indeed, whether the decision was the right one for me in the long-run. Whatever the reasons behind this choice, however, I am fully enjoying my current course at Newcastle University. Due, in no small part, to the wonderful staff, fantastic course mates and the extremely engaging lectures – really, I have learnt a monumental amount in the first three months alone. Wildlife management is a thrilling topic and, whatever I choose to do in the future – even if I opt for a career elsewhere – I am sure the knowledge gained throughout the program will be a huge asset. And a few extra letters after your name cannot hurt, right?

5 – Living North Awards

2016 also saw me receive my first true award nomination, and found me finishing as a runner-up in the ‘promise and potential‘ category of the annual Living North Awards. A rather esteemed ceremony aiming to highlight and celebrate the phenomenal amount of talent that resides in the North-East – contrary to popular belief. I am incredibly grateful for the shortlisting here, and, of course, my invitation to the ceremony itself – it was divine – having been left feeling incredibly motivated by the whole ordeal. My shortlisting coming off the back of a combination of local conservation work and writing promoting the natural beauty of the region. And, when all is said and done, providing a much-needed pat on the back just as period of self-doubt had begun to set in. It was delightful.