Skateraw Successes

Oh birding, what has happened to you recently? As the year has progressed real life and university have quite simply just taken over. Gone are the days of regular birding every week, I regret to say, Since April really, I’ve found myself restricted to getting out to Cramond every couple of weeks (poor show!), and outside of Lothian I’ve managed several days in Norfolk and a trip to Mull. That aside though, birding has been way too thin on the ground. It’s that time of key development in my life where I have to fit in birding where it’s convenient.

When this first hit me about half way through the 2013/14 academic year I hoped (and still do) that I could strategize to maximise the productivity of my birding when I do get out beyond the patch: in other words, very little birding time but much reward each time. Quite frankly, this has worked very well so far in Lothian. It will be of some surprise that I’ve only been on three full days out birding in Lothian since March – largely because I was out of town on all of these days. A half day inland in the Pentlands in May produced a cracking singing male Redstart in a very isolated patch of woodland: not too shabby!

Certainly meriting far greater attention was a fantastic day with Geoff Morgan in the Skateraw area on 26th April. Steady, medium-strength south-easterlies and fog, followed by a bucket-load of rain overnight on 25th provided the makings for a very tidy fall on the coast. It has hit me though, that if you’re going to find any passerines on the Lothian coast, 95% of the time it’s going to be along a five mile stretch between Dunbar and Torness Power Station – in other words the general Barns Ness area. Geoff and I initially felt ambitious, working pitifully underwatched areas near North Berwick such as Scoughall, but were rewarded with very few migrants. So it was down to Skateraw and surrounds, where the vast majority of people would inevitably be stationed.

Barns Ness back in 2013: the vast majority of passerines are likely to be found between here and Torness

On arrival we were informed of a Wryneck in one direction and a Hoopoe in the other, literally just found. We didn’t face much of a dilemma here. A Scottish Upupa usurps other scarce migrants: besides, we all know how easy it is to Jynx ourselves into believing we’re going to connect with ‘twitchable’ Wrynecks. And so it was a brisk walk to Torness in an attempt to re-find this Hoopoe. On arrival it was evident that the bird had not been seen for half an hour despite coverage from lots of birders: 15 minutes of fruitlessness kicking around the grassy wastelands near the dunes and still, nada. A wee bit of dirty twitching by the power station itself soothed us somewhat. A very unseasonable Yellow-browed Warbler was elusive in the patch of scrub by the car park: the first Scottish spring record which added a surreal element to the whole occasion. This calling little blighter was accompanied by a smart Brambling, but given the burning desire to re-find this Hoopoe, we only gave them both five minutes. Back to the wastelands for some more grass bashing!

Everybody was participating in this obscure activity, wandering semi-aimlessly in some tall grass for an itinerant epops. Fate meant that my self-consciousness about this activity would be rewarded. No sooner had Geoff and I reunited with affirmative statements of ‘no sign’, did I flush the HOOPOE. A few entirely deliberate expletives escaped me as those zebra wing-coverts and those stupendous orange crown feathers flashed across my retina like a dream. Wow, just wow! How about that to spice up the landscape! We alerted a few birders in front of us, and the message was passed round on site pretty quickly. Unfortunately we were only able to settle with flight views in the bins, as it kept very low in the tall grass and then proceeded to go missing again for a very lengthy spell, despite much further bashing. But so it came to be, my first Hoopoe in Scotland, with a memorable re-find to boot. Lovely!

***

Fast forward to September, and I’m birding the Lothian coast for the first time since that Hoopoe (way too long!). Light south easterlies and fog once again tempted my Dad and I up to Skateraw on Sunday 14th. It had been a dry night, so I was unsure whether anything would have fallen. A 20 minute spell of rain from c.10:30am on the drive there though was just what the doctored ordered, and lifted the spirits considerably. On arrival we got straight to work, clocking a noticeable fall of continental Robins and a decent movement of Skylark east, reaching triple figures by the end of our session. The density of Robins simply in the cover round the waterfall area by the car park was promising enough – involving some 15 birds – so we headed towards the large patch of scrub towards the Dryburn Mouth, where back in April I had needless to say dipped the aforesaid Wryneck…

A small patch of bushes nearby that had held Lesser Whitethroat back in April had nothing in them this time round, and other cover on the way was also empty. Generally, the further we edged towards the ‘Wryneck scrub’, things seemed to be getting quieter; even Robin numbers were thinning out. It was pointless having a loss of heart though, so we got to work on arrival at the scrub. 15 minutes working its western edge only produced a couple of Reed Buntings and a Whitethroat, so the omens weren’t looking great. As I connected with this Whitethroat however, I glimpsed a bulky, drab warbler sp. diving across the path into another nearby patch. Naturally, I followed it, my Dad noticing and joining me: a Chiffchaff showed itself, but this evidently was not what I had glimpsed beforehand.

We edged closer to the scrub and were greeted with a frantically loud, on-going and exceptionally deep-set ‘tacking’ metallic alarm call from the immediate cover; unmistakably a BARRED WARBLER. Result! Initially hearing this beast was not unlike a frenzied Blackbird with a chesty cough. A few moments later I caught the rear end of the bird moving out of cover and further into the open, where it moved across the top of a bush briefly, revealing its very stout fleshy tinged bill and a dark iris, confirming it as a first winter. Sporting an almost disproportionately long tail and uniformly grey upperparts, contrasting with somewhat more buff underparts, it dipped lower and briefly revealed diffusely barred undertail coverts. Structurally, it was akin to a Garden Warbler on steroids. My first attempt to photograph bird inevitably caused it to flush; it flew quite a way, and thereafter typically became the most skulking bastard on the planet. After a bit more following it around it could not be located. No-one else was immediately around to chase it up, but my hope was that it would be refound. It was indeed relocated, being seen by various observers for the following four days.

Onwards to Tyninghame Bay, which we caught at pretty low tide. This did not detract from some very lovely wader watching though, with a group of 120+ Dunlin and 70 Ringed Plover holding at least one smart Little Stint, 6 gorgeous Curlew Sandpipers and a few Sanderling. It’s an autumn prerequisite to get your fill of these classic passage waders, and as always I left feeling satiated. Other wader numbers were impressive, with triple figures of Redshank and Curlew, as well as numerous Barwits, 19 Grey Plovers at least 10 Greenshanks. That aside, the accolades go to my first two Little Egrets in Lothian, generally nestled into a partly concealed channel at some distance.  To round things off, a single Red-necked Grebe not very far out capped things off very nicely indeed from Gosford Bay; a timeless Lothian speciality that should merit more attention than I’ve given it!

***

So has my strategy worked? With Redstart, re-found Hoopoe and self-found Barred Warbler on my three days out in Lothian away from Cramond since April, it’s been pretty effective. I doubt it will be kept up, mind ,as I aim to get out more hereon in, but it’s certainly proved Lothian’s potential in the right conditions!

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

Paint It Black

‘I see a Red Grouse and I want to paint it Black’. Very appropriate for those people that are so desperate for Tetrao tetrix they casually string Red Grouse in flight over a distant clump of some beknighted Scottish moor. Thankfully, Sir Mick won’t pick up on this absurd, absolutely naff lyrical twist, and even more thankfully I am not one of those, poor birders who goes on wishing that every Red Grouse they pick up on a once-a-year foray to Speyside is a Black Grouse.  That is not to say I have been deprived of decent Black Grouse action in my time. Contrary to popular thought, NE Scotland really wasn’t that good for Black Grouse: I never managed more than several feeding birds in Aberdeenshire at a single site and only on two occasions did I connect with them in Speyside, concerning just two birds in flight, and in similar cirumstances one time in Angus. That however, was my tetrix total; until a few weeks ago.

16th March 2014. 6:00am. 4 hours sleep. Ouch. Pissed. Those pints of Addlestone’s cider and Belhaven Best still entrenched in the stomach. Gets up, staggers into the awaiting vehicle. Munches on rashly prepared toast and butter. Bites Braeburn: an apple in non-alocholic, non-amalgamated attire. Sunshine blinds his insulted, exhausted eyes as he collapses onto the passenger seat. Inebriated Joe turns his floating mind to Black Grouse, a positively sobering prospect. Drunkeness wanes. Enter past participle, personal pronoun.

Mark Grubb ferried me up the Innerleithen Road, on the Lothian-Borders border, a hidden moorland nook to the east of the Pentlands and within 15 miles of Edinburgh itself. I reckon that this stretch comes second to Durham in the ‘Official Best Black Grouse County Rankings (strictly UK)’. What I was treated to that early morning far surpassed any experience I had had with Black Grouse in the north-east. Mark took me to several favoured spots for the species, and more or less everyone of them came up with the goods. By a small steading just over the border, the first three male Black Grouse of the session announced themselves, perfectly occupied as they fed intently by an old dilapdated wall 50ft away, their red combs adding a splash of colour to the moorland monotony. Everywhere, Red Grouse exclaimed ‘go back’, individuals more or less incessentaly hurtling nail-bitingly close to the car bonnet over to a new patch of heather on the side of the road as we meandered along. None, as it happened, were painted black by the imagination. We must have had at least 40 that day.

Red Grouse, Innerleithen Road, Borders (16/3/14). We must have had at least 40 that day

The number of Red Grouse proved to be a great omen for us. By the time we had reached the end of the favoured Black Grouse areas along the Innerleithen Road, we had already clocked 10 male Black Grouse, albeit mostly singles distantly. In twenty minutes, I had notched up around the same amount of Black Grouse as I had ever seen previously within a three mile stretch. This pleased me, but for that deep-seated satisfaction to set in I needed to see at least some signs of lekking, even if it was too late in the day now. As it happened, I never quite got the full monty, but I did get a smidgen of lekking behaviour. One of the lone individuals had a wee fan of its tail at one point, its call bubbling and reverberating across the moor.  It was too distant for me to really appreciate this though.

As we were about to move off, Mark and I got exceptionally lucky with a posse of 5 male Black Grouse within just 20ft of the car, albeit slightly in the sun. Stealthily, we brought the car to a standstill, and began to watch in awe for some 15 minutes. Unfortunately two of the males responded to this and immediately sped eastwards, adorning their exquisite white-fringed lyre tail-feathers as they went, but three stayed put. One of the males was rowdy, and began to bubble furiously at the individual nearest to it. The other male, interrupted during its intense feeding session, turned. We were moments away from witnessing some prime lekking behaviour, at sensationally close quarters, but rather than responding to the battle cry the other cock cowered somewhat, and turned away, keeping low and out of trouble. No jousting today.  The offending bird continued to pester the offended but soon became lethargic, and retreated in a loss of will. The same individual’s mind soon turned back to food, as it gradually ambled closer and closer to the road, feeding all the way along. It was soon so close the whole bird eventually was too near to fill the 40D’s field of view. It was within seconds of dropping down onto the road, when a car whizzed past and it was caused to belt off into the distance with the other two in tow… aarghh! What a show though. We had had 15 Black Grouse, though I was assured that this relatively standard numbers for a visit to the area. Whilst I had not experienced full-blown lekking, I could not have asked for more spectacular views (and prolonged too), especially from the comfort of the car on a windy day. A very, very special moment in my Scottish birding that truly showed just why this area is among the best areas to see Black Grouse in the UK.

Black Grouse, Innerleithen Road, Borders (16/3/14). The aggressive individual of the three close to the road, taken from the comfort of the car

the offending male tries to coax the other into jousting, but fails miserably

‘Come on, show us what you got’! – still trying, still getting nowhere

at its closest, before it was too close to fill the frame!

A brief trip to the beautiful Roslin Glen produced 3 Nuthatches and my first two Chiffchaffs of the year, as well as Dipper and a number of other commoner species. The former constituted to only the second site I have had this species in Scotland: it is a real breath of fresh air to see that Nuthatch has colonized so successfully in Lothian. The latter, in retrospect, may well have been among the earliest Chiffs I have ever noted in Scotland. Spring still hasn’t quite arrived here, but when it does, I am looking forward to witnessing what this county has to offer. Some flavassima, or maybe even one or two of the less typical subspecies, particularly spring to mind, as a respite to uni exams (already!). It’s relieving during the incessant whirlwind adventure that is uni to remember that such great birding as this is available not far from the city.

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

Lothian and Borders Beginnings

It has kicked off folks: birding in Lothian. I am 6 weeks into uni now, which has inevitably taken up the majority of my time here in excellent Edinburgh. As a fresher, there’s obviously that tendency to party instead of going birding on weekends, to mingle with mates instead of searching out sibes. I’ve battled the urge to escape to the coast many a time already, as sibes have poured on to the east coast. I’ve missed bits and bobs like RB Fly (always miss these buggers anyway), Dick’s Pipit etc locally, but luckily Lothian hasn’t experienced the same level of fall than the likes of Norfolk have over the past couple of weeks. As it happens anyway, I’ve managed to capitalize on the passerine action both times I’ve been out to the coast.

My first birding opportunity arose on Saturday 28th, when local birder Mark Grubb invited me to go for the long staying Sardinian Warbler at St Abbs Head in the Borders. Whilst I wasn’t particularly inclined to go for this bird, it was an invitation to go birding that I couldn’t reject. Thus we made the hour or so’s pilgrimage to St Abbs in ominously clear skies (a phrase only justifiable in birding terms), arriving among its imposing cliffs just before 10am. The habitat is superb here, cliffs and small geos for grounded passerines to get lost in, funneling towards ample cover around Mire Loch. As we walked towards the open area of gorse that the Sardinian Warbler favours, a single Yellow-browed Warbler called from the beginning of the track: a sound and a species you cannot do without of an autumn, the epitome of enjoyable September and October birding. I managed a brief flight view of another vocal Yellow-browed later on, satisfying my thirst for inornatus.

More intent on tracking this sylvia, we did not try and trace it down straight away, so walked through the low lying foliage until we reached the clearing where the Sardinian resided. On arrival I bumped into fellow Next Generation Birders Michael and Harry Murphy, managing a brief chat before they scuttled down back down to Durham for a Blyth’s Reed.  They told me the bird hadn’t showed for over 15 minutes, so it was just my luck that within seconds of that statement, the Sardinian Warbler flitted above the gorse briefly, allowing for reasonable flight views through the bins. Immediate success! I wasn’t too fussed about getting great views, as it was always going to be a needle in a haystack job: they’re tricky enough to get decent views of in the Med!  We gave it another 15 minutes, during which the wee beauty presented itself perfectly for a photo 20ft from me for about two seconds. Inevitably it decided to turn its back on me as the photo was actually taken – arse, quite literally! What a wee stunner though, giving sporadically decent full views through the bins in between bouts of extreme skulking. At one point it decided to fly just a few feet over my head, allowing for ridiculous views, but then proceeded to nestle itself right in a single bush beside me and seemingly vanish: what a trickster! As a supporting cast to the Sardie and the YBWs, a couple of Brambling over, several Siskins and single Arctic and Great Skuas offshore were much enjoyed.

walking down towards Mire Loch from St Abbs Head (28/9/13)

Mire Loch (20/10/13)

Mark had arrangements in the afternoon, so I was kindly dropped off at Barns Ness, where I met up with Geoff Morgan for the first time in a long while; we had met and birded together on Fair Isle back in 2010. We proceeded to scout the entire site, deja vu kicking as I recognized the different parts of the site from a previous visit a few years ago with Mark.  The plantations at Triangle and Vault’s Woods did not hold a large quantity of migrants, but it didn’t do bad for quality: a single Yellow-browed Warbler at Triangle was a quiet and shifty individual, but looked gorgeous the few times it was briefly in view.  Working down towards Whitesands Bay and the lighthouse, we had another two Yellow-broweds, though these individuals merely tantalized us with their call.  3 Yellow-broweds at one site: not a bad start to Lothian birding, It was invigorating for Geoff, who reveled in this single-site figure, unprecedented in a Lothian context.

It was hard to dig out much else in the clear conditions, and a seawatch off the lighthouse proved to be unfruitful. However, two Lesser Whitethroats in what was to described to me as the ‘Barred Warbler scrub’ were of much interest. The first individual was a standard curruca, but scanning to the right revealed a suspiciously eastern looking bird, noticeably larger and chunkier than the nominate individual beside it. They kept quiet low, thus making it difficult to get field comparisons, but a sparkly clean white vent was evident as the possible eastern bird scuttled around with its back to us. Once in full view, it showed generally more browny-olive upperparts and a hint of sandy colouration on the mantle and nape, complete with an ill-defined facial mask, paler grey ear coverts than its fellow Lesser and a hint of a white super. It seemed that we were watching a putative blythi Lesser Whitethroat,  but we knew that it could be nothing more than possible without DNA evidence: exciting yet frustrating at the same time, and neither of us managed good enough photos due to their elusiveness.

Barns Ness (28/9/13)

As we traveled back towards Edinburgh, I impetuously decided that the icing on the cake was needed. As an introduction to proper Lothian birding, I deducted that a visit to Gosford Bay was essential. I have had Red-necked Grebe off Mussleburgh before, but having not had any since then, I was keen to have a look. To think, you can actually say, ‘just a Red-necked’ or ‘just a Slav’ in this neck of the woods – that’s how good it is for grebes. I was thus alone in my excitement as I more or less instantly connected with two Red-necked Grebes about 80m offshore. They were silhouetted in the golden evening light, but the you could still make out the red necks, and that uniquely elegant physique that this gorgeous species has – neck held tall, an air of proudness me thinks. As a lad played bagpipes to our right, it felt like a very Scottish scene as I looked beyond Cockenzie Power Station to Arthur’s Seat, which was donned in cerise. On that note, my first day’s full day’s birding in Lothian ended.

Gosford Bay at Longniddry, looking towards Cockenzie and Edinburgh (28/9/13)

***

My next birding window was three weeks later, as the weekend proved to be a quiet affair at uni. I was back at St Abbs with Mark again and Birds of Scotland editor Ian Andrews this Sunday just gone (20th October), which proved equally, if not more, successful. They were keen on Pallas’s, Radde’s and Sardinian as a triple warbler combo, although this was unfortunately not to be. The others managed views of the Sardinian, whilst I attempted to steak out fresh in Turdus and other potential treats. There was a decent arrival of commoner migrants that day – streams of Northern Blackbirds and continental Robins sifting through, interspersed with plenty of Redwings and Fieldfare. 3 Yellow-browed Warblers made themselves known, a particularly vocal bird giving stonking views on one occasion, whilst a supporting cast of warblers included at least 4 Blackcaps and 3 smart abietinus Chiffchaffs. A Water Rail screamed from the scant loch-side reedbeds, whilst two Bramblings, a pair of presumed migrant Bullfinches – at best ‘possible’ Northern types –  and a Treecreeper also skitted through the cover. On the way back to the car, a 1st winter type Black Redstart was a much welcomed bonus, flitting about on a precarious cliff top. Earlier on, a cracking male Peregrine, a leucorhoa Wheatear, a Snipe and a flock of 22 Tree Sparrows overhead had provided ample entertainment on the walk down to Mire Loch from the lighthouse car park. The sheer volume of birds there rightfully relieved me of all the anxieties I had had of not experiencing decent passerine movement this autumn: an excellent morning’s birding. Who needs to steak it out for a Sardie when you’ve got that crop of migs to entertain?

The rest of Sunday was a sedate affair, but it was educational to hammer the habitat around Thorntonloch Caravan Park and the beauty spot that is Torness Power Station for the first time, both of which have ample potential and indeed a reputation for biggies and plenty of workable scrub. At the former, I had another abietinus Chiffchaff but very little else. After failing to chase up a Snow Goose in the fields below the fine North Berwick Law, though still enjoying 7 Whooper Swan, 5 Barnacle Geese and 1000+ Pink-footed Geese, we ended the day at Aberlady, where two hrota Brent Geese were a pleasant surprise; the only Brents I can remember seeing in Scotland this year. The rain then hit hard, forcing us to abandon our previous plan to head out further into the bay.

Aside from a visit to Blackford Hill, this is the only serious birding I have done in Lothian and Borders, but like in SW Scotland, its started with a real bang – let’s hope it can keep up the form in some shape or another. Blackford, however, will have a post to itself. A  potential future local patch in the making… mark my words!

Thanks for reading,

Joseph