Tag: Wildlife

An interesting record…

I love moth trapping. I adore the expectant thrill that abounds when venturing into the unknown each morning; as I carefully remove egg boxes and examine the various colourful critters disguised beneath. Mothing, for me, is addictive, exhilarating even – each morning bringing some different; whether in the form of a new species, a record count or a garden rarity. The anticipation that abounds when combing through the contents of a trap paramount to that of fishing, or birding in autumn – the same sense of the unexpected drawing me back time and time again.

Today’s catch looked promising at a glance: two of the first moth’s removed representing overdue firsts for my little urban garden – Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing and Copper Underwing – the latter of which is rather more scarce up North where it’s commoner cousin, the Svensson’s Copper Underwing, reigns supreme. Sure enough, I caught eight Svensson’s this morning which, when coupled with other highlights of Gold Spot, Dark Marbled Carpet and only my second Garden Pebble, left me feeling satisfied. That is until a curious looking, striped moth in the final egg tray caught my attention – a new one for me which, after some advice from various people on Facebook revealed itself to be Hypsopygia glaucinalis or Double-striped Tabby. As seen in the cover photo of this post.

Now, the interesting thing about this species is that there had only been two previous records of it in the county. Making my individual only the third ever recorded in Northumberland. Easily my best garden record to date and right up there in the excitement stakes with the scant few notable records I have obtained in the past. Among these the first Small Dark Yellow Underwing and Black Mountain Moth for Angus since the 1970’s. Yes, today was a good day.

Said Small Dark Yellow Underwing from Angus in 2015

Adventures in the sea air

This past week has been one of a distinctly salty theme, with each one of my sporadic outings over the past few days connected, in some way, to the coast. All things included -spectacular wildlife, tantalising rarities and some intriguing, conservation-themed visits – it has been a jolly good one, providing a welcome reprieve from tedious paperwork and job hunting.

Starting off on Saturday and early morning found myself and Matt setting out for Amble, more specifically, for to the Northumbrian Seafood Centre where we spent a pleasant half-hour educating ourselves on all things Lobster. Yes, the relatively new centre is home to the Amble Lobster Hatchery – an ambitious scheme established in an effort to restore the areas lobster population to its former, numerically superior a glory. This is done by rearing individual crustaceans from egg to larvae to juvenile lobster, before releasing them back into the wild in the chilly North Sea. The hatchery serving a dual purpose by bringing visitors up-close and personal with crustaceans of all sizes, and making for an interesting stop-off point should you find yourself visiting Amble with time to spare. We certainly had fun!

Moving on from the hatchery, a short search for the day’s target species – Caspian Gull – drew a blank and, for a short while, we made do with admiring the moulting Eiders foraging for chips within the barnacle-crusted confines of the harbour. That, until we made a spur of the moment decision to embark on an impromptu Puffin cruise around the RSPB’s Coquet Island reserve. The venture culminating in splendid views of numerous Grey Seals alongside a whole host of endearing seabirds, the latter unsurprisingly including, you guessed it, a number of Puffins. The undisputed highlight of the forty-five-minute voyage coming from the sites Roseate Terns which performed admirably as we ogled the island from the boat.  Luckily, we also managed to catch up with the wayward Caspian Gull upon our arrival back to the harbour. Hooray – species number 211 for my Northumberland year list.

Later on Saturday, another short bus journey found us paying a quick visit to Druridge Pools where two Little Owls showed wonderfully in the intermittent afternoon sun and a Merlin passed briefly overhead on route North. An unexpected highlight here coming in the form a large mixed-flock of perhaps 300 or so House Sparrow, Tree Sparrow, Yellowhammer and Reed Bunting, all feeding en masse in a nearby wheat field. Not something you see every day given the recent, disheartening declines in these species within the wider countryside.

Another day, another adventure, and following a thesis-themed meeting in Newcastle, I made my way to St. Mary’s Island, in order to catch up with the visiting White-Rumped Sandpiper, unearthed earlier that morning by local birder, Alan Curry. Sure enough, immediately upon arrival, the charming American wader put in an appearance foraging amid the wrack. This time in the company of a few rather lovely Summer-plumaged Turnstone, as well as the odd Sanderling and Dunlin. Truth be told, the bird itself exceeding all expectations – it wasn’t half as “dull and brown” as I had anticipated – and provided a useful lesson in the identification of this particular species. A lesson which may well come in useful given the likelihood of one turning up on my own patch at Blyth this Autumn.

Finally, this week’s coastal antics concluded on Wednesday with an early morning visit to Newbiggin where, in the company of a few familiar faces from the birding scene, I enjoyed a two-hour stint of blustery seawatching. The high-points of the morning coming in the form of a superb Great Skua powering North above the breakers, and a pair of much more dainty Arctic Skua harrying the Sandwich Terns just offshore. Other interesting titbits here included approximately c750 Gannet moving past among smaller numbers of Kittiwake, Fulmar, Common Scoter, Arctic Tern and Golden Plover; though before long I was forced to depart in order to work on something else boasting a clear, coastal theme: my dissertation. It will all be over soon, James…

New Nature Issue 8!

The August edition of New Nature, the youth nature magazine, has been released and is now available to download online and free. Check it out: https://goo.gl/FeC9Sd

This issue has a definite marine theme and features some fabulous writing with regards to cetaceans, micro plastics and marine wildlife; in addition to an interview with Andy Bool, the head of the Sea Life Trust. As ever, it has been nothing short of a delight to work on this issue and I am incredibly grateful to the entire New Nature team from bringing yet another fabulous youth publication to life.

To learn more about New Nature, please check out our website – I can assure you, you will not be disappointed.

Five great apps for modern naturalists

Times are changing, and whether you welcome the shift towards a more technologically advanced age of wildlife-recording, or not, apps are fast becoming an invaluable addition to the would-be naturalist’s toolkit.  They allow you to expand your knowledge base, submit valuable records and, in some cases, have fun; while most are free and easily downloaded at the touch of a button. Below are six examples of apps that I, personally, use frequently, and ones which I thought may be of use to readers of this blog.

Birdtrack

An incredibly useful app brought to you by the British Trust for Ornithology, Birdtrack allows users to record sightings of the birds they have seen – either in the form of complete lists, or casual observations. With the data recorded feeding directly into the BTO database and providing researchers with useful information on everything from species abundance and migration times to breeding activity. This app also comes with the added bonus of allowing you to view which bird species have been recorded in your local area; while also serving as a notebook, of sorts, condensing your sightings into easily viewable lists to be revisited whenever you see fit. It is also very user-friendly.

Tree ID

Brought to you by the Woodland Trust, this attractive and easy to use app allows users to identify trees by their leaves, fruit and bark, and provides no end of useful information with regards to the species seen on rural (or urban) walks. It comes complete with a handy A-Z for easy identification and presents users with useful information relating to the status of our tree species, the threats they face and, in some cases, the folklore and historical uses associated with our trees. It is free to download on both Apple and Android devices and really is worth considering if, like me, you wish to learn more about our trees and refresh yourself on how to identify them.

Big Butterfly Count

The Big Butterfly Count app brought to you by Butterfly Conservation does exactly what it says on the tin. It allows you to submit valuable records to the annual census of British butterflies in the form of an easy to use recording sheet, complete with simple check boxes to yet the BC team know more about your particular count. This app uses GPS to track your location on the move and, as such, is perfect for recording spontaneous counts on the go, or when time limitations leave you unable to sit down at a computer to enter data. Additionally, this app also allows users to contribute to one of the most exciting and important citizen science projects of our age and is definitely one to consider for those boasting a penchant for Lepidoptera.

Nature Finder

A useful app for those seeking some wild respite, the Wildlife Trust’s Nature Finder application allows users to easily locate WT nature reserves across the length and breadth of the UK. It provides information with regards to the wildlife to be seen at specific sites and highlights upcoming events in your area; while also giving more generic information about myriad species and habitats that exist within the UK. This is the perfect app should you find yourself in need of some time in nature, or for those keen to explore and discover new places, both in your local area or further afield. Like the other apps on this list, Nature Finder is available on both Apple and Android devices.

Collins Bird Guide

The Collins bird guide in its traditional, paper-based form has long provided an indispensable resource for birders, both amateur and experienced alike, to identify the species they see in the field. It is a great book and one which I recommend everyone purchase, though did you know said book has also been transformed into a rather nifty app? The Collins app is easy to use, cheap and provides a whole manner of information with regards to bird identification and distribution, as well as boasting a handy call feature which allows users to ID birds based on sound, as well as sight. It also comes complete with fantastic artwork and in-depth maps and is highly recommended for those with an interest in avian pursuits.

Those mentioned above represent only a handful of the fantastic applications available for nature lovers to use in the field. There are, of course, many more out there and, should time allow, I will cover these in a later blog post. For now, however, why not try something new today and download one of these for yourself?

Adventures in the night garden

There is something quite exhilarating about spending time outdoors by night – each sound, each rustle in the shrubbery and splash in the water indicative of hidden treasures lying just out of sight amid the gloom. Watching wildlife by night is intoxicating, plain and simple, and recently, has become somewhat of a hobby of mine. A pastime born of necessity, with my days of late spent catching up on university work carrying and out a host of more menial tasks, thus leaving little time for adventure.

Last night, I spent three hours in the garden – watching, waiting and, most rewarding of all, listening, with only the blue glow of my actinic moth trap to light my way. My watch beginning at 10 pm as, with the light fading fast, the local Pipistrelles arrived to feed. Their coming timed to perfection to coincide with the departure of the first moths from their daylight hideaways. Indeed, as I watched, more and more moths emerged – springing forth from the Privet hedge and the nearby Hawthorns before heading upwards, often with the bats in close pursuit. I am yet to see a bat actually catch a moth, though I did witness one interesting piece of behaviour as a rather large individual – a large yellow underwing, I think – plummeted downwards, rigid as a stone, clearly having caught wind of its would-be pursuer. An interesting defence mechanism, and something that, to date, I have only seen on TV.

By 11 pm the last vestiges of light had faded and the moth trap had been fired up – the first arrivals, as ever, being the underwings. Followed closely by a number of Smoky Wainscot, Riband Wave and Snout – some of the more numerous species to inhabit my urban garden. Many moths came and went as I watched, with some – a rather beautiful Straw Underwing included – landing conveniently in the trap, and others, missing it entirely. No matter.

Before long, a faint rustling in the compost heap diverted my attention away from the trap. The sound of crunching, desiccated vegetation easily audible as a fleet of Common Frogs began to emerge. Ambling forward, into the open, before splitting up in all directions: towards the lawn, pond, borders and hedge. Easily counted by torchlight, a total of seven frogs were found, with another, concealed in some waterside vegetation, croaking loudly upon my approach. This particular individual joined amid the Water Mint by a delightful Smooth Newt. The latter watched and enjoyed as it emerged from the shallows before slinking, with surprising speed, out of sight. My efforts to facilitate my local amphibians are paying off, it would seem.

Come midnight, I had resumed my watch of the moth trap, adding Light Emerald and Common Plume to my list as I listened to the screeches of a distant Tawny Owl in the park adjacent to the house. I had just about grown tired when another sound caught my attention: an undoubtedly familiar call of a bird above that, for the life of me, I could not place for some time. I did eventually, however: it was a tern. A very unusual addition to the list of animals seen and heard from the garden, and a quite unexpected one, if that – I do, after all, live some way from the coast. Doubtless, this had to have been a migrating bird heading overland on its way South for Winter.

The tern was not the only migrant heard this night, however, and soon the call of an Oystercatcher became audible as it passed overhead. The high-pitched flight calls of the bird (or birds) followed soon, by the much more exciting sound of a Whimbrel, and then, the honking of geese. It really is amazing what you can hear from the comfort of your own deck chair at night, once the hustle and bustle of urban life has died down and others have succumbed to slumber.

My night outdoors finished as it began: with moths. A graceful Barred Red the last species to enter my trap before it was sealed and concealed for study the next day. Making my way to the house 1 am – placing my feet carefully so not the injure any of the snails moving slowly across the lawn – I found myself rather giddy, and grinning profusely. It really was an evening well spent.

Oh yes, and I am pleased to announce that, following their arrival last Spring, our garden foxes have returned. Hurrah!

 

Common Rustic agg.
Willow Beauty
Elderberry Pearl
Barred Red

Seeking Lepidoptera

In need of some respite from dissertation work and keen to spend as much time as possible outside in the glorious weather, yesterday was dedicated, wholly, to surveying Lepidoptera. Daylight hours spent chasing butterflies as I attempted to survey a few new sites for this year’s Big Butterfly Count and night, moth trapping in the garden. Both ventures, thankfully, coming up trumps and producing myriad vibrant and interesting species.

My first butterfly transect found me meandering through an unassuming patch of wasteland near Cambois – a small coastal town not far from my home in Bedlington. Setting out, things looked altogether promising: warm temperatures and masses of blooming Ragwort, Buddleia and Knapweed giving hope that there would at least be a few butterflies on the wing. There was, and within moments of my arrival, the first species began to appear. Among these, a number of Small White, Meadow Brown and Ringlet – common species one would expect to find here – but also a Small Tortoiseshell and a surprise Dark Green Fritillary. The former bringing a rather large smile to my face given their seemingly low numbers this year.

Next came a lone Comma moving frantically about a patch of nettles; while further along the track both Red Admiral and Small Copper were also observed. All of these, lovely though they are, soon found themselves playing second fiddle, however, upon sight of the days first Grayling. The initial individual hunkered down and doing its best to blend into the subsrate soon followed by twelve more. The colony of Grayling at Cambois is well known locally and butterflies can reliably be seen here most years; though, historically, I have only ever seen one or two individuals. The thirteen noted on this day setting a new personal record, and the sight of the intricately marked butterflies themselves, leaving me more than content. Departing the site, four Small Skipper were unearthed and a Speckled Wood was found sunning itself on some roadside brambles. Eleven species in fifteen minutes, not bad at all…

Carrying out a second butterfly count, this time in nearby the sand dunes, another Small Tortoiseshell was noted alongside numerous Meadow Browns and Six-Spot Burnets. Another three Small Skipper here came as an added bonus; while a lone Green-Veined White took the days butterfly tally up to an impressive twelve species. Fourteen if you count the Common Blues and Large Skippers notched at Bedlington earlier in the day.

Grayling
Small Tortoiseshell
Small Tortoiseshell
Grayling
Grayling
Small Skipper

Skipping forward a few hours and nightfall found me positioned in the garden, eager to see which moth species would find their way into my heath trap on this occasion. Truth be told, I was not overly hopeful – I broke yet another bulb a few days past so, on this occasion, was forced to make do with a household UV bulb – of the kind used to find stains and check for fingerprints. Lo and behold, however, this bulb outperformed my previous actinic by quite some way, with 132 moths of 37 species trapped between 11 pm and 1 am, including some nifty garden firsts. The undisputed highlight coming in the form of my first garden Drinker, alongside a duo of Dark Spectacle, two Cloaked Minor and a single Ypsolopha scabrella – an abundant and rather neat little micro. Other goodies included a record count of five Buff Footman and singles of Peach Blossom, Peppered Moth and Early Thorn; while Large-Yellow Underwing again took home the award for most numerous species. No less than 47 individuals were found in the trap this morning, yikes.

Ypsolopha scabrella
Dark Spectacle
Swallow-tailed Moth
Drinker

Six months of New Nature

It has been nothing short of a pleasure to work on New Nature magazine over the past six months: to read and publish the work of our marvellous young contributors and labour alongside the various, incredibly diligent, individuals that currently reside on our editorial team. Each of whom, through thick and thin, have given their time voluntarily to create what many feel is both an enjoyable and appealing publication.  This six-month summary providing the perfect opportunity to bid a begrudging farewell to Alysia Schuetzle – our designer – who has done a meticulous job at piecing the magazine together each month; but also to welcome Harriet Gardiner to the team as her replacement. Good luck, Harriet!

It has not been an easy six months, truth be told: the associated workload far surpassing our earlier expectations – leaving many of us scrambling to fit magazine commitments in alongside university, paying work and additional voluntary commitments. Equally, the sporadic flack we have received due to our age limit has been frustrating at times, and outright off-putting at others; though this has not yet proven sufficient to deter us.  Nor, I suspect, will it – we do, after all, believe wholeheartedly that a magazine written solely by young people is much needed in current times. These hiccups aside, however, the publishing process has been delightful: the kind words of readers and organisations boosting morale and providing ample motivation to continue long into the future. Indeed, it is starting to feel like we are achieving some of the things we set out to do from the start.

What exactly have we achieved so far? Well, the obvious one would be that we have brought the thoughts and views of over 100 young naturalists into the public eye – with each issue downloaded and read over 1000 times and our online traffic  – namely, on our blog – growing daily. This, in turn, has lead to a number of our contributors being picked up by publications elsewhere, thus boosting their portfolio and allowing them to develop further in their chosen fields. This was our main motivation for starting the magazine – to promote and embolden young people – and it is wonderful to see those featured getting noticed elsewhere for their hard work and determination. They really do deserve it, and while many outlets may shy away from publishing inexperienced, younger writers, we will continue to do so for as along as we can.

Our other achievements are more difficult to assess, though with a growing readership and increasing social media presence, I, personally, believe that we are doing our bit to promote important environmental topics and instigate discussion among our readers. Something we hope to build upon by launching our first official campaign in the coming weeks. More on this to be revealed shortly, however, though rest assured, it involves a call to action on behalf of our readers and is something that we feel may make a positive, physical difference for wildlife across Britain. Think small-scale rewilding…

Campaign aside, what can you expect from New Nature in the future? Well, we hope that with the aid of some as yet unsourced financial sponsors, that will be able to promote the work of our contributors further than ever before – something that can only be achieved by increasing our readership. We also hope to build upon our recent success to transform New Nature from a simple online publication into more of a community – a hub where young writers can interact, form friendships, share opportunities and, generally, have a blast. A Facebook group for this has recently been established (see here) and we hope to utilise this more in the future. Finally (and again, this depends on our ability to secure relationships with outside bodies), we hope to offer something more than simply publication for our writers. We hope to provision young people prizes, opportunities and, perhaps at some point in the future, funding, as an incentive to keep up their fabulous work. As you can see, we are not short of ideas…

As with any publication, our ability to bring our ambitions to fruition depends greatly on improving our stats, building our following and increasing our general readership. This is unavoidable, and we hope that by continuing our work, these things will happen naturally. With the way things are going at present, and with more passionate individuals joining our team, it is definitely worth watching this space – who knows where we will be in another six months.

 

Once again, I would like to thank everyone who has given their time to write for the magazine. This includes the big names in conservation, writing and media who have generously given their time to be interviewed and offer advice to the next generation. Equally, I would like to thank each of the organisations that regularly share New Nature with their following – we really couldn’t do it without you. Most of all, however, I would like to thank each and every individual that reads, downloads and shares the magazine each month. I, for one, am incredibly grateful for your support. I will leave you with a quick quote from presenter and naturalist, Nick Baker:

“I read your first magazine and I love it, I think what you guys are doing is bloody brilliant and I back it wholeheartedly”

Ruby Tiger and other treasures

Having recently purchased a new moth trap only to break the bulb while unpacking it, I was delighted when my replacement arrived yesterday. This meaning that, for the first time this year, I could kick-back in the garden and engross myself in some local Lepidoptera. Well, this didn’t go exactly to plan – heavy rain hampering my efforts after a meagre two hours – though, with 71 moths of 21 separate species languishing in the trap this morning, it could have gone much worse.

The star of the show when it came time to unpack the trap this morning was undoubtedly the superb Ruby Tiger Phragmatobia fuliginosa pictured above. A rather sumptuous looking moth boasting outlandish crimson underwings, and a real favourite of mine. Not a scarce species, by any standards, but a nice one to see in my urban backyard. Of its winged counterparts also nestled within the trap, a Barred Yellow Cnidaria fulvata was also nice to see; while a couple of Bordered White Bupalus piniaria were new for the garden list. The most numerous species obtained were, as ever, the Large Yellow Underwings Noctua pronuba which, typically, burst out in a flurry of frantic buzzing as soon as I lifted the lid. Much to the delight of my cat which soon set off (unsuccessfully) in pursuit of the escapees.

I look forward to trapping more frequently throughout the Summer, and in doing so, uncovering, further, the wealth of unseen life dwelling within my garden.

Double Square-spot, Barred Yellow, Dark Arches, Ruby Tiger, Bee Moth and Small Fan-foot

Species Focus: Tree Bumblebee

Otherwise known as the New Garden Bumblebee, the Tree Bumblebee Bombus hypnorum is one of my favourite garden visitors. A pleasant figment of Spring and Summer which I look forward to observing each year. Boasting a distinct pattern of alternating orange, black and white, B. hypnorum is a familiar sight in urban areas where it is commonly encountered foraging amid garden blooms (ours particularly enjoy Raspberry) or occupying bird boxes placed out for the local blue tits – indeed, these feisty bees have even been known to evict tits from their chosen box.

A relatively new arrival to Britain, the species was first observed in 2001 close to the village of Landford in Wiltshire and has since spread across the length and breadth of England, recently reaching both Scotland and Wales. It’s globetrotting nature further confirmed by the occurrence of the species in Iceland during 2008 – where it has now been confirmed breeding annually since colonisation.

Identification: the colour pattern of B. hypnorum is unique among British bee species. Look out for a tawny (ginger) or reddish thorax and a black and white tail. Unlike other bee species, queen, worker and drone tree bumblebees all look similar in appearance; with drones (male bees) roughly double the size of an average Honey Bee boasting blunter ends to their abdomens and longer antennae. Queens are easily recognised by their large size; though this is known to vary substantially.

Interesting fact: if you have bees nesting inside your tumble dryer or any other piece of household equipment, this is likely the culprit. There are several cases of these so-called tumble dryer colonies reported in the UK each year, usually inside the vent pipe side arm where the fluff from our clothes makes for handy nesting material. These colonies can be pesky and despite not posing a danger, may need to be removed. It is best to call a professional in order to do this, however, as, like other bees, B. hypnorum is known to ferociously defend its nest sites.

Image: Tree Bumblebee – Charles Sharp, licensed under Flickr Creative Commons (here)

Species Focus: Iris pseudacorus

 

Otherwise known as yellow flag, water flag, yellow iris, sword-grass and lever, Iris pseudacorus is a rather lovely botanical. A prominent feature of pond margins, ditches and other damp areas across much of Britain, this radiant iris adds a touch of glamour to soggy areas nationwide. The plant – growing up 1.5 meters in height – a personal favourite of mine since childhood; since I first took it upon myself to transplant a specimen into my garden pond, much to the delight of the various pollinators inhabiting my small yard.

Thought by some to be the original fleur-de-lis – a common symbol of medieval heraldry; the daffodil-like yellow blooms of I. pseudacorus, with their sickly sweet scent, provide an irresistible draw to a whole manner of pollinating insects – from bees to hoverflies – while the elongated leaves provide food for the larvae of the aptly named Iris Sawfly Rhadinoceraea micans. All of which goes without mentioning the valuable cover provided by the densely packed foliage and sprawling roots of this waterside species – perfect for amphibians, fish and aquatic insects seeking cover in an effort to avoid the gaze of nearby predators. The iris is a superb addition to any wildlife garden; while also looking rather exquisite, particularly in the Summer sun.

The human uses for I. pseudacoru, traditionally, include the use of the rhizome as a herbal remedy – most often as an emetic; while the plant in its entirety is commonly used as a form of water treatment. With its roots able to take in heavy metals and toxins that would quickly kill other aquatic vegetation. It’s ability to grow in waters boasting a low Ph level also make it a useful indicator of water quality and ecosystem health.

Fact: the wavering flowers of the iris were once thought to resemble flags blowing in the breeze, hence the name “yellow flag”.

Folklore: According to legend, Clovis was the first person to adorn his clothes with iris heraldry.  Later becoming the king of the Franks, he was responsible for forcibly evicting the Romans from Northern Gaul, thus establishing the yellow flag as a symbol of Frankish pride. Louis VII would later wear similar heraldry in his crusade against the Saracens.

Rewilding my urban garden

Like any self-respecting nature lover, the idea of wildlife gardening has always appealed to me. By nature, I want to do my bit to provide wildlife with a home and in doing so, conserve the various critters with whom I share my local area. A noble idea that many, thankfully, commit to, though one that has proven somewhat difficult for me. The fact I share my garden with younger siblings keen to utilise the limited space for sunbathing and play respectively, and a parent altogether fond of the stereotypical urban gravel/grass monoculture. Indeed, to date, my attempts to rewild our small patch earth have met with frowns and disapproval – especially when I took it upon myself to plant weeds along the margins of my mothers neat and tidy lawn. Not that I, personally, class teasel as a weed…

Well, fast forward a few months and I am making leeway. I have reached an agreement with my family where the back portion of our garden, a small 5 x 8 meter stretch of gravel (complete with a trampoline and a summerhouse I must add) is mine to do with as I please. Seizing upon this, and in an attempt to increase biodiversity around my home, I have made a few much-needed amendments. Among these: a small pond, a large flowering currant bush, a compost heap, a miniature rockery, and, as of today, a number of planters installed to act as a makeshift meadow. The latter planted with red valerian pilfered from an abanonded garden and a seed mix consisting of cornflower, knapweed, tansy and other lovelies. My initial efforts, while looking wonderfully messy, can be seen below.

While I will undoubtedly have to wait some time for the meadow to begin yielding fruit, I have, however, made a concerted effort to record the species venturing into my little wild space of late, and surprisingly, have reached a grand total of 71. This, of course, includes everything from common garden birds to colonising nettles and pondweed but also, some real gems. Common frogs have spawned in the pond this year, with a grand total of 12 adults observed on one day during the Spring. With these, smooth newts have also appeared and, perhaps more surprisingly, we also appear to have a resident toad. The latter taking a particular shine my younger brothers play house where, for the second consecutive day, he was photographed hiding amid the pillows. The small crack in the outside panels which allows slugs and woodlice entry (much to the horror of my brother) also providing the amphibian with an entry route should he find himself seeking comfort.

One of the greatest increases observed thus far in the garden has come from the invertebrates: the pond harbouring no end of common water slaters, pond skaters and vivid sun hoverflies, but also (as of today) my first large red damselflies – a pair seen copulating on a marigold leaf earlier this morning. The nearby flowering blackcurrant has also proven successful; providing pollen to visiting tree, white-tailed and garden bumblebees in addition to the odd peacock and red admiral butterflies. While speaking of butterflies, a fabulous painted lady was also observed today making the most of the aforementioned valerians. A nice follow-up to last years visiting hummingbird hawk-moth.

As expected, the addition of a compost heap too has worked wonders, particularly for snails: with white-lipped, strawberry and garden snails quick to colonise – alongside myriad slugs, millipedes and woodlice. Though more impressive is the addition of some new mammals to the garden list. With wood mouse and hedgehog new this year – both captured on a camera placed out to document the nocturnal inhabitants of the lawn. Alongside these, our fox maintains his usual pattern of visitation and pipistrelle bats continue to hawk over the lawn by night. Doubtless in search of moths.

Speaking of moths: a quick sweep with a net last night revealed a number of species – brimstone, garden carpet, light brown apple moth and silver ground carpet to name but a few – and with my new moth trap set for delivery tomorrow, the number of nocturnal beasties uncovered here looks set to increase markedly. The trap sure to aid in my efforts to document the wonders lying just outside of my unassuming front door. I will, of course, be blogging quite frequently about developments in the garden; as more species arrive and I spend an increasing amount of watching wildlife at home, as opposed to chasing it around far-flung areas of the country. Stay tuned, I hope I will have more to discuss in a short while.

Ticking along nicely…

I have been rather quiet on the blog of late, at least when compared to my usual, rather vocal self. This is due, at least in part, to poor internet reception at my current place of residence – the Farne Islands – but also due to an increasing workload. With my MSc Wildlife Management course reaching its conclusion and various other occurrences eating up my free time of late. Still, silence on the virtual front should not imply that things have been dull, and as it happens, things are ticking over rather nicely. Here is a short life update for those who regularly tune into this site…

Dissertation. I am currently working to complete my postgraduate thesis entitled Comparison of monitoring techniques used to predict Atlantic Puffin breeding density. This is taking place, as I mentioned earlier, on the fabulous Farne Islands – a site I have visited yearly since boyhood and one that I have come to wholeheartedly adore over the years. I have been made to feel most welcome by the National Trust rangers on the islands, and while I cannot disclose too much at this point, my project is going well. Spirits lifted further by the chance to observe some truly mesmerising wildlife in one of Britain’s most idyllic locations.

Fundraising. I am still in the process of fundraising for the BTO Curlew Appeal and my sponsored three peaks challenge will be taking place later in the Summer. For those looking to donate, I am now only £195 short of my personal £1000 target and remain optimistic that I can hit this prior to the event. Alongside friend and fellow conservationist Sacha Elliott, I will be giving a talk at Boldon Castle this weekend regarding my fondness for this species, our walk, and, of course, life as a relatively young environmentalist. I look forward to maybe seeing a few of you there.

Writing. While my blogging here has been minimal over the past fortnight, I continue to contribute to my regional wildlife column on the website of Northumberland Wildlife Trust. I also recently authored a rather lengthy piece about moths within my home county that will feature in the trust’s quarterly Roebuck magazine, very soon.

Social media. Having enjoyed a splendid tour with them last year – one in which I enjoyed an eclectic mix of regional specialities from Pine Martens and Ptarmagin to Red Deer and Bottlenose Dolphins – I am now managing the social media activity of UK Wildlife Safaris. It is a pleasure to join such a dedicated, enthusiastic team of ecologists and I would advise anyone to consider UKWS for the next holiday. At least if you are fond of great wildlife, food, lavish accommodation and surreal vistas. A write-up of our recent Mull trip can be found here.

New Nature. The youth nature magazine continues to go from strength to strength, bringing the thoughts and views of Britain’s young naturalists to an increasingly large audience. Our June issue is set for publication very soon, and I am currently in the process of recruiting a new Creative Director to help design the magazine and take us to new and exciting heights in the future.

As you can see, things have been wonderfully hectic recently. The above post going without mentioning the fabulous wildlife I have enjoyed of late, a small sample of which can be seen below. To say I am dreading the enevitable bout of post-university unemployement set to come my way very soon would be an understatement, though I am at least feeling optimistic given recent developments.

Here’s why I, personally, watch birds

My attention was recently drawn to an interesting article authored for The Conversation by the esteemed and eloquent Dr Robert Lambert. Centred on the logic behind birding (or twitching, if you prefer), I found the piece highly interesting, both as a birder who spends a great deal of his time observing our feathered friends and as an individual intrigued by birdwatching culture. The article itself really was rather good, and I agree with many of the points stated; though, for me, the social media debate surrounding its publication was equally fascinating. With some choosing to criticise and others choosing to compliment based on the various points stated within. Well, to cut a long story short, this – coupled with a few queries from curious friends – got me thinking. Why exactly do I spend so much time and, in some cases money, in pursuit of rare birds?

My interesting in twitching is somewhat of a developing one: with long-distance trips and costly jaunts taking place more frequently now that they did in years prior. Why is this? Well, as Dr Lambert states, there are many reasons one may choose to pursue rare birds. There is, of course, a competitive element: with birders attempting to score points over their rivals and surpass them in ranking. While I do not profess to do this on a national scale, I am taking place in a “bird race” this year so I guess this applies, equally, to me. There is also the thrill of rarity itself; the buzz associated with observing the new and unfamiliar; something which, again, I feel applies to my own birding forays. I, like many others, certainly enjoy revelling in the sight of a new and intriguing bird species. There are, however, other arguably more important motivations underpinning my avian obsession.

Rare birds, while intriguing, are not always the most memorable feature of a twitch. No, for me, chasing rarities is only the beginning; and the thrill of a life on the move is of equal importance. Birding has a habit of taking you to some truly surreal locations – whether you are looking for eagles amid the sweeping vistas of the Cairngorms or searching for a dusky thrush Turdus eunomus amid the quaint stone houses of a quiet village in Derbyshire. These locations are always different and each boasts their own unique appeal; whether that be the chance to sample local food or drink (Caol IIa whisky springs to mind), the opportunity visit a new pub and engage with the locals, or the chance to engross yourself in natural spectacles far removed from your regular haunts. Indeed, on twitch earlier this year, I spent equal time enjoying large flocks of locally common farmland birds as I did our intended target, the Dunnington pine bunting Emberiza leucocephalos. For me, birding is paramount to wanderlust. 

More important still, at least in my opinion, is the sense of community that comes with outing yourself as a birder. I am sure I speak for many people when I say that life for younger people boasting an interest in nature can often be a lonely and tedious affair – our interests met with indifference by some and outright ridicule by others. It can be frustrating at times and disheartening at others; though thankfully, the birding community is, for the large part, an incredibly supportive and caring fraternity. Sure, as with any hobby there are a few intolerable characters – those people you do your best to avoid amid the amassed crowd surrounding your chosen vagrant – but for each one of these there are ten more willing to offer advice, guidance, support and friendly chitchat; enough to lift the spirits of even the most downtrodden individual. I owe an awful lot my local birding network, the characters here in Northumberland that have nudged me in the right direction over the years, but also to groups such as Next Generation Birders for keeping my interests alive and preventing me from regressing to a more socially acceptable state. One that my peers at school would have preferred but I, myself, would have quietly hated.

At this point, the individual characters that make up the birding community are also worth a mention. As with any hobby, the sheer level of diversity here is great; ranging from the quirky, outspoken and cantankerous, to the incredibly genuine and accommodating. Those who will bend over backwards to make you feel at home. With so many personalities abounding, the likelihood of finding someone you “click with” in birding is substantial; and some of my greatest friends were first encountered amid the throng surrounding a wayward rarity. I am sure Sacha Elliot will not mind be saying that we met over a wryneck. Birding provides an opportunity to make the acquaintance of others; to bond and make life-long friends. Something which, in itself, far surpasses the importance of competition. Of course, these friends also add to the experience and come rain or shy, arduous ten-hour car journey or short walk to your local nature reserve, these people help make birding the wonderful affair it is.

To conclude: birding, for me, is about many things. It is about competition, the allure of rarity and, of course, the joy of experiencing nature first hand. It is, however, equally about a sense of belonging and friendship; about the people you meet and the laughs to be had. It is about post-twitch trips to the pub, communal meet-ups, carpools, inadvertant hilarity and the opportunity to enjoy surreal settings in the company of people you have come to know and trust. Birding, despite its name, is about a lot more than just birds. This is what I will tell those who ask in the future.

Citrine Wagtail – Lynemouth Flash

This stunning female Citrine Wagtail Motacilla citreola was at Lynemouth flash yesterday; a bird I have wanted to see in the UK ever since a chance encounter with my first, an adult male, in Estonia a few years past. My visit was not overly long – dissertation planning is taking up most of my time of late – but during the fifteen minutes or so I spent by the inconspicuous roadside pool, the bird showed wonderfully as it fed within a few metres of the various birders, photographers and curious locals assembled nearby. This marks my 196th bird species observed in Northumberland this year and stands out as the definitive highlight of the year thus far as I attempt to view as many species as possible in my home county within 2017. A personal quest which, this week, also took me to Catton Moss where a Short-Toed Lark (my first) showed wonderfully; and earlier, to Allen Banks where the local Wood Warblers and Pied Flycatchers put on a fine show in the radiant afternoon sun.