A Brilliant Day for Birds

12 Monday Sep 2016

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, birds of Wales, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature of Wales, nature photography, North Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

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Tags

alca torda, bird migration, Black-headed Gull, coastal birds, Cormorant, gavia stellata, larus ridibundus, Northern Wheatear, oenanthe oenanthe, phalacrocorax carb, razorbill, red-throated diver, saxicola torquata, stonechat

September 10th – Little Orme, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

Taking the old cliff path around to Angel Bay, I disturbed a beautiful fresh(ly) Painted Lady butterfly. It circuited round a bit before settling on a stony patch, pressing its wings tightly against small sun-warmed limestone rocks.

A small crowd of people gathered on the cliff edge above Angel Bay looked promising; maybe there was something exciting to see down there? But alas, no. They were simply chatting and the beach was empty. This convinced me that as I suspected, female seals don’t give birth to their pups here; if they did they would surely be here by now. There were seals here, but only two, both swimming lazily around in the water. On this cool, misty-damp morning I suspect it was warmer in the water than out. One was hanging in the water with just its face above the water, showing off a lovely set of whiskers.

Another was simply cruising around peacefully.

There is a thriving breeding population of Cormorants here on the Little Orme, so there is never a shortage of these brilliant birds to see, especially around their nesting site on the cliffs further around the headland. At this time of year and through the winter months, their numbers are boosted greatly and the steeply sloping cliff face that forms one side of Angel Bay is punctuated with a multitude of black dots and dashes. This is now Cormorant Central; the volume and frequency of arrivals and departures of birds rivalling that of aeroplanes into and out of a busy airport.

I wonder how they work out their perching places? Do early arrivals get the prime spots and do they now have their own patch, or is it up for grabs if they leave to fish for lunch? Do they stick to family or colony groups?

Whilst pondering on the whys and wherefores of Cormorant society, I was distracted by two little shapes down in the Bay – definitely birds but I was, of course, on the wrong side to see them properly. It’s not uncommon to get the occasional Guillemot or Razorbill here once the breeding season is over, so I didn’t really think further than that. Winter-plumaged Red-throated Divers didn’t enter my head at the time, but that is what they were. Birds we get around this coast during the autumn and winter, but most often much further out that you need powerful optical assistance to spot.

I must get back into the habit of taking binoculars out with me instead of relying on my camera’s zoom; sometimes it’s not enough. In this instance a glimpse and a snapshot was all I got anyway; these birds are for once aptly named as they do dive – a lot, reappearing nowhere near where they went under. I walked around to the other side of the rocky hump on the Penrhyn Bay side of the headland as from there you get good uninterrupted views of a wide expanse of sea. Birds fly low past here, keeping close in to the cliff, so some good views of whatever is travelling by; mostly Herring gulls and a few Black-headed gulls today.

Black-headed gull–Larus ridibundus

There was a Cormorant swimming around on the sea’s surface, giving a good view of the strong hooked beak.

A small black and white bird bobbed into view and this really was a Razorbill Alca torda. It was a good way out to sea, but close enough that I could see, through the camera lens, that it was in the process of changing from summer to winter plumage. The plumage of the throat and sides of the neck change from black to white in the winter – the side of this one’s head is still a mix of the two.

It was in no hurry to move away and intent on having a good grooming session.

Members of the Auk family, to which both Razorbills and Puffins belong, look a little like penguins, although they are not closely related. The next few images show some of the similarities between them; species of both have black-and-white colours, an upright posture and share some of their habits.

‘bye ‘bye little Razorbill, thank you for the photographs. Have a good winter.

Now a perfect example of how my mind skips around. Although tuned into ‘bird mode’, I spotted a wild cabbage plant and thought ‘maybe there’ll be a Large White butterfly’s caterpillar on those leaves’. And there was, so a gap in my last-but-one post can be filled in!

I was watching the Razorbill et al for a good half an hour, maybe more, then walked back around the cliff to have a last look around Angel Bay. The seals had gone, but the movement of a smallish bird on the cliff edge caught my eye. Rock Pipit came to mind, but no, it was a much lovelier Northern Wheatear. It was either waiting for the weather to improve or taking in some food before continuing on his long migration back to warmer climes; perhaps both.

Northern Wheatear – Oenanthe oenanthe

I’m not certain whether this was a male or female as when males are in their winter plumage both sexes appear similar. I’m edging towards male as there seems to be a slate-grey patch remaining at the top of the wing. The bird’s common name of ‘Wheatear’ has nothing to do with its food preferences or its ears, but refers to its white rump (i.e white a**e)!

More people arrived at the cliff edge and my bird flew away, down onto the big rocks on the beach.

I began heading in the general direction of the ‘way out’, but hearing a Stonechat nearby diverted to see if I could find it. They’re one of my favourite birds and are often obliging in terms of appearing in the open. I wasn’t disappointed; as I passed by one perched up on top of a bramble, within whose tangled depths a pair have regularly nested.

At first I thought this was an adult female , but as I got a closer look I could see it still has a speckled head, so it’s probably a juvenile of this year’s brood.

Robins were out singing all around the site today, but more wary now of being seen than when they sing in the spring. The one I finally got close enough to photograph was perched on a bracken frond keeping a beady eye out for movements on the ground below, ready to pounce.

Not a trip to Skomer but a great day out

21 Thursday Jun 2012

Posted by theresagreen in birds singing, coastal habitat, coastal walks, Nature, Pembrokeshire coastal path

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Tags

barn swallow, birds singing, common dolphin, cormorants flying, gannet, grey seal, herring gull, lesser black-backed gull, Linnet, marloes peninsular, martin's haven, meadow pipit, Northern Wheatear, razorbill, stonechat, wooltack point

The Saturday following the Friday of the terrible weather dawned bright and sunny and apart from a few lurking clouds the sky looked innocently down upon us as though nothing had happened. We were still hoping for a trip over to Skomer Island, so set off to drive the hour or so that it takes to reach Martin’s Haven, from where the boats depart. We were not too hopeful of being able to get to Skomer today; Saturday’s are popular anyway and as no boats would have gone out yesterday, we expected it to be busy. A first sight of the car park, already overflowing onto adjacent land brought that sinking feeling, compounded by the attendant informing us that all 150 of the day’s landing ticket allocation had been sold by 9.30am. We were somewhat taken aback to learn that some people had begun queuing for places at 5.30am; the first boat for the island leaves at 10am. So, no Skomer for us today.

We had made some effort to get here though and determined to make the best of our situation decided to explore the area around the headland instead. The headland is known as the Marloes Peninsular; the land is owned by the National Trust and for some reason we have not managed to establish is named “Deer Park”, although there are no deer here. There are however spectacular rocks, sea views that take in most of the Pembrokeshire Islands, wildflowers and, we were fairly confident, there would be birds.

We set off to walk up to the highest point of the peninsular, Wooltack Point, distinguished by the small white building on the top that is now an active coastwatch point operated by the National Coastwatch Institute.

We were soon distracted by the small birds we began to see around us almost immediately: Stonechats, Linnets and Meadow Pipits, all species that can make homes in this rather bleak windswept habitat, carpeted with grass and heather and furnished only with low-growing tangles of gorse bushes, brambles and generally scrubby vegetation.

The first bird we had a good view of was this little Stonechat female (Saxicola torquata), who was very shortly joined by a male.

The Stonechat male perched just a short distance away from his mate

There were several Linnets flying around and one beautiful male landed quite near us on a bramble and began to sing.

This beautiful male Linnet was singing from atop a dead bramble stem

It was sunny here, but windy too, so it was some consolation to think that those on the boats travelling across to Skomer would probably be feeling the combined effects of the cold wind and choppy sea in a not-too-pleasant way. Yes, very immature, especially as we have actually made the journey in even rougher conditions, survived and gone on to have a spectacular day. Anyway, onwards and upwards to Wooltack Point. The views out over St.Bride’s Bay are truly spectacular, but the sea around this point can be treacherous with concealed rocks and strong currents, hence the presence of the Coastwatch.

The incorrectly marked compass (click to enlarge)

We attempted to work out the layout of the islands we could see, picking out Skomer easily as it was close by and Ramsey Island as we recognised the shape of St. David’s Head, but were guessing at the others. I spotted a compass of sorts on a plinth outside the door of the stone hut and as I leaned in to take a picture of it the coastguard popped out to tell us that its directions are useless as all points are wrong. Apparently even the North marking is incorrect. He was quite amused by the fact that “there is nowhere in the world from which that plaque would be correct” and has no idea why it has never been replaced.

The nearest we got to Skomer Island today, just 2 miles across the Sound

Ramsey Island, 9.5 miles away is located off St David’s Head

Dropping down onto the cliff in front of the hut we discovered it to be sheltered from the wind and much warmer. We sat there for at least an hour watching the array of seabirds flying back and forth or swimming and diving around the rocks below us.

Razorbills were the most numerous birds on the water, but there were a few guillemots and cormorants too.

Razorbills swim on the surface then suddenly make a synchronised dive and disappear underwater for ages, eventually reappearing some distance away

Cormorant flying close to the rocks, low over the water

Herring Gulls passed us by very closely

Lesser Black-backed gulls were another frequent sight

We were delighted by the appearance of Grey Seals in the sea just below us, and even more thrilled when we realised there were dolphins too. The first dolphin we picked up on was following the Skomer boat on its return trip to Martin’s Haven, but soon realised there were at least three in total.

Grey Seal

The island of Grassholm is occupied by an enormous colony of breeding Gannets (another highly recommended trip to take) and although it is 10 miles away from where we were today we kept a hopeful look out. We were rewarded with an initially distant sighting of a number of the birds circling and diving, but over the course of twenty minutes or so they gradually worked their way towards us, clearly following the progress of a shoal of fish. This is why the dolphins were there too. It would have been lovely to have had closer views, but both they and the birds were near enough to be seen well through binoculars.

One of a number of Gannets closely following a shoal of fish

The spot we had chosen to settle in seemed to be within the territory of a Pipit. He made several tours of the rocks immediately around us, making some rather disgruntled noises, clearly not happy with us, but otherwise undeterred by our presence.

I think this is a Meadow Pipit, but going on its location, it could be a Rock Pipit

The Pipit demonstrating his ‘parachuting’ display flight whilst singing

This is undoubtedly a tough environment for wildflowers, but there was thrift and sheep’s bit flowering and almost squashed into the short grass several tiny specimens of pretty blue spring squill.

There were bumblebees visiting most of the available flowers

Leaving our sheltered viewpoint we continued our walk around the remainder of the headland then cut back inland towards the car.

Rocky coves with sheltered beaches such as the one below the cliff here on the far side of the peninsular are perfect places to see grey seals and their pups. The land in the top right of the picture is the tip of Skomer.

Next on the agenda was to seek out another sheltered spot in which to eat our lunch. With hindsight we did consider that perhaps if we had not stopped at M & S in Haverfordwest for decent sarnies we may have squeezed onto that boat … ? (Normally we would have made our own, but pinned in by the tree we couldn’t get out to the shops yesterday and had no suitable supplies.) But, on the bright side, it was more than pleasant here and we had had some very fresh air and some wonderful sights. We located another likely spot to enjoy our food in and settled down. We soon realised we were being watched; a baby bunny was peeking through the grass at the top of a sandy hillock close by that we could now see was above the entrance to a warren.

Baby rabbit on the roof of the family home

We were thoroughly enjoying our lunch sitting on a grassy bank in a warm and sunny spot, appreciating our beautiful surroundings and reviewing the wealth of sights we had enjoyed, when another bird appeared in front of us. This was a handsome jaunty male Wheatear and once again we seemed to have settled ourselves in the middle of his territory. He seemed to be making a point of travelling around us, settling on rabbit hills, brambles, rocks and the like. We did feel a little guilt but carried on enjoying the sight of him quietly, staying as still as is possible whilst yielding a hefty camera lens.

A female appeared too from the same direction and made a similar circuit, so we surmised that they had a nest located somewhere behind the bank occupied by the rabbits. Beautiful birds.

The very handsome male Wheatear asserting his territory from the top of a rabbit hill

The female Wheatear with her browner plumage is also a very attractive bird

Arriving back at the lane leading to the beach we headed for the loos to find there was an unusual queue to enter the building. A number of Barn Swallows were waiting for people to leave, taking their opportunities to swoop in to their nests built in various places inside.

One of a pair of Barn Swallows waiting to get into the toilet block and back to their nests

Although they are a familiar sight swooping and gliding over the countryside, it’s not often you get such close views of these elegant birds and to appreciate their very glossy plumage.

This bird was taking advantage of the waiting time to thoroughly preen its feathers

I was listening and watching for a sight of a Whitethroat, as we have always seen them here in the past, but not so today. As we made our way up the hill towards the car park we did see another Wheatear and had a quick glimpse of the back of a Dunnock singing from a bramble patch.