Shades, Sounds and Scents of the Woods

22 Thursday Feb 2018

Posted by theresagreen in birds of Wales, Nature of Wales, woodland birds

Tags

alexanders, Blue tit, Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, colour in winter woods, fragrant wild flowers, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Great Tit, hazel catkins, lamb's tails, lesser periwinkle, mosses & liverworts, Robin, snowdrop, Spurge laurel, treecreeper, woodland flowers

February 18th-Bryn Euryn-Woodland Path

A bit fed up with dull drab winter days, a sunny start to the day inspired me to go out and seek signs of the coming Spring and hopefully some colour. A Robin sang from a tree branch at the beginning of the Woodland Path, then minutes later the delightful and uplifting sight of a bank of Snowdrops in full flower made the perfect start.

Our Snowdrop display may not be on the scale of that of those boasted by our local National Trust gardens, but it is no less beautiful and uplifting; and I didn’t have to drive anywhere to see it.

Lesser Periwinkle- Vinca minor

Nearby, peeping out shyly from beneath a bramble, the bright blue face of a Periwinkle.

A Barberry shrub arches gracefully over the pathway, its golden-orange flowers not yet quite open. I thought it was a bit early for it to be flowering? Barberry- Berberis vulgaris is a native plant, but it is scarce in the wild although widely naturalised. This one, or an ancestor of it may have been planted when this woodland was part of the grounds of the house that used to stand where our apartment building is now. Either way it’s pretty and a splash more colour to add to my collection.

Another shrub I found flowering, Mahonia, has also likely arrived here from a garden. Its bright yellow flowers also look good and smell lovely.

Barberry-Berberis vulgaris

Mahonia-Mahonia japonica

Of course green is still the predominant colour, but there are splashes of bright fresh shades breaking up the dark evergreens. Mosses are at their best at this time of year, brightening the shady woodland floor, smothering rocks and the bases of tree trunks with patches of vivid green. I have yet to learn to identify the different species, so for now I think of this one as ‘looking like a forest of miniature pine trees’!

Although I walk this path often I can still see things I’ve not spotted before, like this pretty clump of Navelwort. Its pretty round leaves, dimpled in the centre and with frilled edges look a bit like green flowers.

Navelwort-Umbillicus rupestris

There are a number of Spurge laurel plants in this part of the woods and they too are flowering now. The flowers are a subtle lime green-yellow colour but they are pretty and in common with those of other members of the daphne family they are deliciously scented, with an aroma that really is like warm honey.

Spurge laurel-Daphne laureola

Fully opened flowers

It’s wonderful to hear the woods full of bird sounds again. Throughout most of this walk I was surrounded by the sounds of birds, mostly the cheerful chirps and chatter of tits keeping contact with one another. Blue tits were everywhere, up high in trees and lower down in the shrubs, investigating every nook, cranny and leaf for potential food. They are bright colourful little birds, but still blend surprisingly well into the woodland background.

Great tits are also about, but their favoured place is around the Scots Pines where there are often several. They are more easily heard than seen and have a huge repertoire of calls and phrases at their disposal. Years ago I learnt from a bird-watching master that if you hear a bird sound you don’t recognise the chances are it will be a Great Tit!

I stood and watched them there for a few minutes until my neck ached from craning upwards.Thankfully I was distracted by a Treecreeper up in a big sycamore tree nearby.

It was exceptionally well-camouflaged against the shaded, heavily textured bark and hard to see when not mobile and flashing its white undersides. It was fascinating to watch as it contorted itself, using its tail to steady itself to probe its beak into its deep fissures. From this spot I also heard the screeching of Jays and caught a glimpse of one before it sped off through the trees.

I passed by the remains of the Scots Pine that was sadly felled in a storm two years ago. Much of it has been sawn and removed; what’s left is being gradually absorbed back into the fabric of the woodland. I liked its rich colour and texture.

Looking across the boundary fence here the colours of the landscape in general are still predominantly brown and green, but taking time to look properly you appreciate the are a myriad of shades of those colours. And I’m sure the grass is getting greener by the day!

I usually concentrate on the more scenic aspects of this view, but zooming in and down onto an edge of the far landscape reveals an interesting slice of a community. An interesting juxtaposition caught my eye – Modern Industry and a Final Resting Place separated by a field full of sheep turned out to eat turnips!

On the field-woodland boundary is more colour. Gorse is blooming bringing forth its warm golden glow. I think this line of gorse was probably planted here as a boundary hedge. This was a common and effective practice in Wales to prevent animals wandering and remnants of such hedges can still be found in the countryside, particularly in Anglesey.

I heard a Robin singing and noticed bird movement amongst the Gorse. Zooming in I found the rusty-red of two Robins there, one being the source of the song. I wonder if they were mates prospecting for a nest site or rivals claiming territory?

Two birds in a bush

Honeysuckle twining up the wire boundary fence has well-grown fresh leaves already; quite surprising in this exposed spot.

Honeysuckle leaves are well-grown

Amongst leaf litter, ivy and feathery moss, Wood Sorrel has shown some of its bright green shamrock-like leaves throughout the winter. It will be flowering soon.

Leaves of Wood Sorrel

The top end of this path is becoming increasingly lined with Alexanders’ plants. Most are well-grown now, particularly those sheltered against tree trunks. They will flower soon; last year their flowers were much appreciated by some of the earlier hoverflies.

Alexanders-Smyrnium olusatrum

Woodland – Summit Trail

Emerging from the beneath the canopy of the woods onto the open Woodland Trail the first colour I noticed was the blue of the sky!

Heading towards the track that leads up to the Summit Trail I heard a Woodpecker tapping. I’ve had several good sightings of Great Spotted Woodpeckers in the past few weeks, the latest one just this morning as it came down almost as far as our bird feeders. I scanned the trees for a sight of it but no luck. A Raven flew overhead, ‘cronking’ as it travelled to alert all to its presence.

Surprisingly there were a few bright red berries left on the big Holly bush; there are so many Blackbirds about I thought every last one would be gone by now. Perhaps they can’t reach those left at the end of branches. Many holly leaves have been ‘mined’ by insects so display bright pale splashes where there is now no chlorophyll.

180218-BEWT-1155-Holly with few berries left

As I said earlier, Blackbirds were numerous and have turned their attentions to the Ivy berries, many of which are finally ripe. Everywhere there were berries there were birds from low down to the tops of trees. They rustle noisily around seeking the bunches of berries using a variety of techniques to reach the fruits. Their familiar scolding and alarm calls ring out from almost every tree as they chase away competitors.

Hazel catkins have been present since the autumn, gradually lengthening and maturing. Now their soft golden tassels are long and fluffy, resembling the ‘lamb’s tails’, which gave rise to the old country name for catkins.

Common Hazel (Corylus avellana)

Catkins are the male flowers of the plant, producing pollen to fertilise the tiny red female flowers that sit tightly on the twigs.

I heard the Woodpecker again, this time drumming loudly on a tree trunk. It was too far away to try to locate it, but was good to hear. The males don’t have a song with which to claim ownership of their chosen patch of woodland, so they use the tool they have, their powerful bill to drum on dead trees. They can be clever in their choice of drumming spot, often choosing a site where the sound is amplified by surrounding features. A Thrush was singing nearby too, so I stopped to listen. Then two birds making sounds I didn’t recognise at all crashed into the top of a tree in front of me on the other side of the track. With the sun behind them they were drained of colour, but there was no mistaking their outlines – two Woodpeckers! I have no idea if they were a pair or two rivals chasing, but they left without a sound, one behind the other.

After the activity of the woods the almost-summit was surprisingly calm. This must be the first time for months that there has been not even a breath of wind and it was actually enjoyable to be up there! The sea of Colwyn Bay seemingly flat calm and mirroring the sky, now sunless, was a most unusual shade of blue-grey.

Swinging around to my right the snow-capped higher peaks of the Carneddau mountains rising above the river Conwy show remind that there is some Winter still to go.

Continuing up to the Summit you pass thickets of blackthorn; they take on a completely different appearance in the winter as their leafless black twigs and branches are richly encrusted with gold and silver-grey lichens.

Crossing to the North-facing side of the hill the view is down the coast along Penrhyn Bay to the Little Orme; the sea is still calm but more blue. The field (on the opposite side of the road to the golf course) has a lot if standing water and I could see there were gulls and Oystercatchers feeding there. This is the ‘Curlew field’ that I’ve mentioned many times. I couldn’t make out if there were any Curlew there, but I did hear one and the tide appears to be in, so there most likely were.

Below is a panoramic view starting from past the Little Orme on the right of the image and travelling along to the hills at the end of the Carneddau. Anglesey lies on the horizon behind the stretch of water which is the Menai Strait. It would have looked better if the sun had still been out, but it’s still pretty spectacular.

click for bigger image

Going down, the Gorse on the hillside is in full golden flower. It was only planted in recent years but has quickly thickened and grown taller.

I walked home across the field where a Long-tailed tit flew in front of me: it was so close I could almost have touched it. They are so pretty. It was one of a party but the others took a more cautious route around the field via the trees rather than the direct crossing.

I completed the circuit of the Bryn walking back along the Woodland Trail. It was much quieter now but I did get one last look of two Great Spotted Woodpeckers together, so fingers crossed they are a pair. I’ll be keeping an eye out.

Winter Promenades

22 Monday Jan 2018

Posted by theresagreen in birds of the seashore, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Rhos Point, Wales Coast Path

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

birds of conservation concern, black-headed gull changing plumage, Curlew, dunlin, dunnock, overwintering birds, purple sandpiper, Rhos Point, ringed plover, Robin, rock pipit, winter wildflowers

January 2nd 2018

The Promenade runs unbroken from Old Colwyn at one end to Penrhyn Bay at the other, following the contours of Colwyn Bay, Rhos Point and the seashore of the aforementioned Penrhyn Bay. It is well-used, particularly so in the warmer seasons and weekends, but also on sunny days throughtout the year; it’s also a part of the Wales Coast Path and is both a walking and a cycling route. The section I walk most often these days starts close to the tiny St.Trillo’s chapel, passes Rhos Point and continues into Rhos on Sea village.

St Trillo’s Chapel, Rhos-on-Sea

This strip of coastline is fascinating. The Promenade and the busy road that runs alongside it form a corridor between land claimed for human habitation, travel and recreation and a rugged seashore and mussel bed, regularly washed over by the Irish Sea, that provides for a variety of species of wildlife, including large numbers of over-wintering wading birds. There is also an interesting ‘cross-over’ by some birds that have learnt to utilise the opportunities offered on both sides of the corridor.

This morning I’d visited my daughter & grandchildren who live just a couple of hundred metres from the Prom and I thought while I was this close I’d check up quickly on a very special winter visitor – a Purple Sandpiper. I knew there was one here as I’d found it in the same spot on the rocks frequented by one lone individual last winter. (I posted about it earlier last year as The Lonely Purple Sandpiper.) The times whilst the tide is high and for a short while as it begins to go out again are the best times to get close-up views of them.

23/12/17-1432-Purple sandpiper

Walking down the slope near the chapel I couldn’t fail to notice a huge photographic lens fitted to a camera on a tripod angled down onto the rocks below, with a man standing behind it. I guessed all would be aimed at the Purple sandpiper, and so it was, but rather than there being the one bird I’d expected to see, there were six. Four were out in the open, tucked up and fast asleep, but the photographer said there were at least two more a bit lower down behind rocks. These lovely little winter visitors are famous and people travel here from miles around in hope of seeing them. This guy had come from Wigan and here on his third visit in recent weeks to attempt to see them. There was no way he was leaving until he’d got shots of them doing something more interesting. He was also willing the sun to come out to light them up better against the dark rocks. You really do have to catch these birds at high tide when they rest up on the rocks of the rip-rap, as once the tide goes out, so do they and you’ve lost them.

2/01/18-1105-Rhos Point-Purple Sandpipers

Great Crested Grebes regularly cruise the bay and there was one out there now. Although not appearing to be travelling at speed, they are tricky to catch an image of; you just get them in focus and they dive. I get a lot of images of empty sea. They can travel good distances underwater in pursuit of fish so you can’t predict where they’ll pop up again.

Following last night’s Super Moon, there was a Spring Tide this morning, at its highest at 10:40am (the Spring Tides are the highest ones). It was windy here as it is at most high tides, but not blowing in across the sea, so its surface was barely rippled. At just past 12 noon, the water was beginning to recede but it would be a while before the sandpipers responded and became active; they’re used to arctic conditons, but it was way too cold for me to stand still. I wondered about the lone bird I’d seen before Christmas. Was it now part of this little group? Surely it was, but I walked the short distance along to where I’d seen it before to make certain. No sign of it, but I did see the biggest jellyfish I’ve ever seen stranded on top of a rock by the tide. It looked a bit battered but don’t know how you tell a live one from a dead one when they’re out of the water.

I walked as far as the steep concrete steps that go down to the shore that are becoming increasingly smoother and their edges more rounded year on year. They were wet right to the top showing how high the water level must have reached earlier on.

Now I’d seen the Sandpipers and knowing I could come back and see them again I thought I’d get into my car out of the cold and go home. But then there might be more to see, I was here now and at least it wasn’t raining like it was yesterday. I also had the luxury of being able to walk here without a grandchild in a pram as I often do, so could stop as often as I liked without protest from a little companion. I walked on towards the village.

It’s not only birds that have ‘crossed-over’ to the wild side of the road. The huge, predominantly limestone rocks of the rip-rap support an increasing variety of plants too. They are mostly garden escapes such as buddleiah and michaelmas daisies and just past the chapel is a bushy shrub. This established bush is sometimes full of one of the local House sparrow tribes adding their cheerful chirping to the more expected sounds of the seashore. There are often House sparrows foraging amongst the rocks of the seashore, especially when they’re nesting and have young to feed. They come after it’s rained too, to drink from small pools of fresh water briefly held by the limestone rip rap.

1/10/17-Rhos Point-A bush full of House sparrows

The bush has shed its leaves now and there were no sparrows today. Someone has put up a bird feeder filled with nuts, maybe for them or maybe for the Robin that is also often around here.

The sea had begun to recede here on the Point, so I began to walk down the ramp to see if any birds had arrived to forage in its wake and was surprised by a Dunnock that popped out from the base of the bush.

2/1/18-1218-Rhos Point-Dunnock

It moved back down to the rocks beneath

and was joined by a Robin.

The big patch of Winter Heliotrope on the grassy embankment is flowering prolifically now as it has been since last December. This is another plant that started out as a garden plant that escaped and is now also accepted as a wildflower. It’s widespread around the village but this location, facing straight out to sea is not its usual habitat; it’s supposed to go for damp shady places, often under trees. It is thriving here though, this patch is now huge. It’s perhaps not the most beautiful of plants, but it’s a joy to see anything in flower at this time of year and the flowers have a delicious scent, heliotrope is widely used in the perfume industry, but you have to get down to their level to check that out!

Winter heliotrope –

Round about this spot I’d seen a little party of Ringed Plovers on Christmas Eve, when walking into the village with my own family party. There’d been a group of about 15 gathered on the rocks waiting for the tide to turn (birds that is, not family members). No sign of them now, so this is an image I got that day.

24/12/17-Rhos Point-Ringed Plovers

There was a single Dunlin there then too, resting with its head tucked under its wing just peeping out to check it was safe to carry on napping.

24/12/17-Rhos Point-Dunlin

Reaching the harbour the calm appearance of the sea belied the fact that it was actually quite windy and with no sunshine still really cold, not a day for sustained birdwatching from one spot. I loved the view though in these misty muted winter shades.

The harbour wall provides the perfect place for birds the sit out the high tides to wait close by for that magical moment when as it recedes it reaches the perfect point for them to make the short flight back to the shore. There are always oystercatchers and often gulls and a crow or two. A couple seeking shelter from the biting cold against a wall were viewing it with binoculars; they’d seen Ringed Plovers there too. At the far end sat a group of Cormorants; in my photograph you can see Colwyn Bay’s sadly dilapidated Victoria Pier behind them.

Across the road is the park which has a children’s play area, a good old-fashioned paddling pool, empty now of course and open grassy areas that is currently wet and muddy, perfect for blackbirds, thrushes and starlings digging for worms. Here with my slightly bigger granddaughter a few days ago there were two Mistle thrushes in addition to today’s blackbirds and starlings.

Starling – juvenile

I watched a Black-headed gull, its head is just beginning to show the beginnings of darkening to the chocolate-brown of the birds breeding plumage. It too was digging successfully for worms in the soft mud. I like these neat little gulls with their red bills and legs.

Black-headed gull

Heading back down the slope to walk back I was pleased to see a rock Pipit hopping and flitting between the rocks and the Prom edge before disappearing into plants on the grassy embankment

2/1/18-Rock Pipit

A Robin popped up too – maybe the one I’d seen earlier further along by the bush. He/she was quite likely warning off the Rock Pipit.

2/1/18-Rhos Point-Robin

Daisies are flowering, only a few bravely showing their faces, but a reminder that despite their dainty fragile looks they are as tough as old boots!

2/1/18-Rhos Point-Daisy

Canny Crows are frequent visitors to the rocky shore and search amongst the rocks for anything edible from scraps of left-over food left by visitors to accessible shellfish.

This one had found the remains of a sizeable crab and that look in its eye says it wasn’t about to share it!

The tide was a little further out now and oystercatchers were beginning to arrive back. They didn’t begin foraging though, instead they quickly settled and resumed their rests.

The two in the pictures below have pointed beaks so would probably be waiting for the softer ground to be revealed in which they probe for their food. Those that hammer away at shellfish have bills that are blunter and more squared off.

The people with the binoculars told me they’d come down here via Penrhyn Bay where it was apparently even colder than here. They reported seeing a Grey plover there on one of the breakwaters, so I decided to go that way home and stop and have a look. I didn’t hold out much hope of seeing anything without binoculars and had no idea which breakwater it might have been on either. It was definitely colder here, and I was not going to hang about, but I was really pleased to discover that this is where the Redshanks come to roost between tides! I’ve often wondered where they go and here they were; dozens of them tucked up in the shelter of the rocks.

Seeing the Redshanks still waiting for the signal to make their move back to the Point made me hope that Curlews would also be in the field they frequent when not on the seashore. They were! And they come with the added bonus that you can stop on the roadside and watch them from inside your car. The brambly hedge on the field boundary gets in the way of the camera lens somewhat, and they were a distance away, but in this setting they are a wonderful sight.

Curlew bathing

Sights and Sounds from the Little Orme 1

03 Friday Feb 2017

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, North Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, The Wales Coast Path

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

blackbird, chough, Great tit singing, grey seals, grey seals from the Little Orme, grey seals in Angel Bay, grey seals mating behaviour, phalocrocorax aristotelis, raven, Robin, shag

January 20th – Little Orme, lower level

When the first sound I hear on my approach to the Little Orme is that of a Raven gronking, I take it as an omen that this is going to be a good walk! And so it was today – the old Raven perched high on the edge of the cliff, proclaiming his territorial rights, his distinctive call echoing off the surrounding rock. As yet there were no signs of Fulmars having returned to begin claiming nesting spots on the cliff below him. Notoriously noisy, they too would have been heard before being seen for sure.

Ears being more effective than eyes on this bright winter afternoon, I heard birdsong emanating from a small nearby tree. I didn’t recognise the song at first and with sun shining directly into my eyes, it took a couple of minutes for me to recognise that the singer was a Great tit. I edged slowly towards him, circling to try to reach a point where the sun was less blinding, expecting him to spot me and take off any second, but he was confident and intent on his purpose and chose to ignore me. I was delighted, I don’t recall ever being this close to a singing Great tit before and was impressed by his tuneful renderings.

He was indeed handsome and as the test of a male Great tit’s virility is displayed in the strength of the black markings that run from his throat to his nether regions, this one looks like he’d be quite a catch.

The ground here was frosted and in shaded places the grass was crunchy underfoot, but a pair of blackbirds, feathers fluffed out against the cold had found a more insulated mossy spot and were out hunting worms. I wasn’t sure if the female was deliberately collecting nesting material or if I’d disturbed her whilst probing and the grass had stuck to her bill.

Close by a Robin was singing quietly, almost to itself as it perched low and spied, head cocked, for insect movements on the ground below.

Reaching the cliff edge which overlooks Penrhyn Bay, all I spied was a distant single cormorant. (Well, I assumed it was a cormorant, but a sharp-eyed friend pointed out it was actually a Shag – so really happy about that as I see far fewer of them.)

A closer look shows the Shag has a narrow bill and a steeper forehead than a Cormorant and also lacks the white cheeks patches of the latter. A lesson learned, I will look closer in the future and not make assumptions!

Sitting atop the rocky mound that forms one edge of Angel Bay were a pair of large black birds. One had his back to me, looking out to sea – Ravens, surely? As I approached they flew down almost to the base of the rock.

Feathers gleaming with shades of purple and green they are magnificent birds, but you wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that enormous dagger-like bill.

As well as local folk, people come here from miles around in the hope of a sighting of the Grey Seals that have claimed Angel Bay as their own. Today I was one of a small crowd of spectators that were given a real treat; there must have been at least 40 of them ranged along the tide-line the whole length of the little cove.

Perfectly camouflaged to blend with the rocks and pebbles here, it takes a few minutes to get your eye in and work out which shapes are animal and which mineral. I make a total of 20 in the image below.

At first glance there didn’t seem to be much activity other than sleeping going on, but sounds arising and a closer look reveals that here and there things were not entirely tranquil.

Some see rocks as a sun-warmed resting place

while to others they are just obstacles to be overcome; going over the top must be easier than getting someone to move.

These two took to the water, they could be a male and a female as one appears smaller than the other.

They started off peacefully enough,

but things soon started to get a bit rough

and developed into what appeared to be a serious display of aggression or power assertion of some kind. ( I wasn’t entirely off-track here, but it has been pointed out that this was quite likely mating behaviour. I thought that mating happened sooner after the birth of the pups.)

Their interaction was quickly dissipated though when several more seals lumbered from the shore, showing a surprising turn of speed, and entered the water with much deliberate splashing.

Then sped off with purpose, keeping their heads above the water

to check out two kayakers that had paddled into the bay. The guys in the boats must have been thrilled to have had a close encounter with at least eight curious seals.

Back on the shore another pair having a bit of argy-bargy

this time more vocal than physical.

And that is where I left them to get on with their day while I got moving to warm up, with one quick last look over the edge of the cliff from the other side of the bay.

On the far side of the bay I scanned the cliff for any signs that the Ravens may be re-using the nest site that has been occupied for years. There was nothing I could see, but there were plenty of pairs of Jackdaws that seem to have already claimed or reclaimed holes and ledges on the cliff wall. Jackdaws are so numerous here that a black bird of a certain size usually registers subconsciously as such, but again it was hearing different sounds called by a small group of four black birds flying up that alerted me to the presence of the far less common Chough.

More wary than the resident Jackdaws, the presence of Chough, probably visiting from the Great Orme that forms the other side of Llandudno Bay, always takes me by surprise and that is my excuse for failing to get a decent photograph! That and the fact they soon spotted me standing out in the open pointing a long lens at them, so they took off and disappeared over the cliff edge. I have seen and photographed the pair below feeding here before, quite distinctive with all their leg bling, but the one above has none yet. Is that because it’s a young one I wonder? Please tell me if you know.

I couldn’t leave this lower level of the reserve without a nod to a Jackdaw, whose home this really is, so snatched this just before a dog followed by its owner sent him off too.

A Secluded Spot for Sunbathers

20 Saturday Aug 2016

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Birds, birds of Wales, Nature, nature photography, North Wales, woodland birds

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

bird parasites, birds preening, birds sunbathing, birds sunning, blackbird, dunnock, garden birds, Robin, why do birds sunbathe, Wren

“The perfect spot for sunbathing, in a peaceful woodland edge location, offers privacy and safety in which to relax or indulge in some leisurely grooming preening. No charge for use of facilities”.

This summer this ideal location, set conveniently for me just a few metres from my kitchen and bedroom windows, has been a popular spot with some of the local birds, particularly some of the younger ones.They come to make the most of this sheltered sun-trap to sunbathe, also known as ‘sunning’ in application to birds. Sunning birds may become so absorbed in the activity that they are easily approached, which can make them vulnerable to predators. They are safer here; there is no easy access to this spot from any angle, although a savvy Sparrowhawk may possibly be able to make a strike if it got its timing right so as not to cast a shadow.

160803-KW (3)-Blackbird & dunnock sunning

Dunnock and Blackbird sunning together

Most commonly we see Blackbirds and sometimes Robins sunning in gardens , but other species indulge too in slightly different ways.

Sunbathing Blackbirds are a fairly common sight in parks and gardens

To begin sunning, birds orient themselves to expose the maximum amount of their plumage to the sun. The classic sunning posture is thus: head and body feathers are fluffed up and out and depending on available space and/or sense of security felt, one or both wings are held out from the body with feathers spread; the tail is sometimes fanned out too. The bird may keep the same position throughout a sunning session, or it may change positions to expose different parts of its body to the sun.

Sunning is often a precursor to preening, vital to a bird’s feather maintenance, and in this instance it is thought this has two effects; one is that the sun’s heat helps to spread preening oil across the feathers. The other is that it drives out parasites from within the plumage that can then be more easily dislodged as the bird preens.

Sunning and Preening demonstrated by a Dunnock

I’m fairly sure this session was more concerned with pest control than anything else.

Firstly, adopt the sunning pose: fluff out feathers and spread tail and wing feathers. Well, alright just the tail feathers will do for now.

Secondly, begin preening with any particularly itchy spots caused by unwelcome hitchhikers.

Pay attention to armpits

Some areas such as the head and around the eyes and bill can only be serviced by extending and lifting the leg and having a good old scratch.

It helps to have a flexible neck.

That will have to do for now, it’s getting a bit shady here.Time to go.

The young Robin in the following sequence of images seems to be similarly afflicted with ‘lumps’ apparent on its neck.

The head and neck are areas birds are unable to reach with their bills and have to scratch with a foot.

The other side needs attention too.

It looks as though the bird’s frantic scratching has created a bald spot. And is that another lump under its eye?

During sunning sessions birds often have their bills open. This is because the warmth of the sun raises their body temperature and as they can’t release heat by perspiration, they have to regulate it some other way, so will gape and sometimes pant in order to lose heat.

To sum up, no-one knows for certain the reasons birds sunbathe, although several theories have been proposed.

To maintain the bird’s feathers in good condition. Exactly how sunning assists with this is not known, despite being widely studied. All birds have a gland on the rump, called an oil gland. The ‘preen-oil’ that this gland produces helps to keep the feathers flexible and hygienic. As preening usually occurs directly after sunning, it has been suggested that the sun affects the preen-oil in the feathers in some beneficial manner, or that it helps to synthesize the Vitamin D and helping to regulate it’s temperature.
The heat from the sun may stimulate activity in parasites within the feathers, making them more accessible when the bird starts to preen.
Birds also make use of the sun’s heat to increase their body temperature or prevent heat loss. This form of ‘sunning’ is also used when the bird dries itself after bathing.
They do it simply because they enjoy it.

A tiny Wren enjoying a quick sunbathe on a laurel leaf

Getting to know my new neighbours

07 Saturday Feb 2015

Posted by theresagreen in Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, Rhos-on-Sea, woodland birds

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

blackbird, Blackcap, Blue tit, Bullfinch, coal tit, dunnock, Great Tit, grey squirrel, redwing, Robin, wood pigeon

The beginning of this year has been a busy one and I’ve been distracted and often frustrated by the myriad of mostly mundane issues involved in moving home, but it’s all done and dusted now and at last I can get back to more enjoyable activities. I haven’t moved far and I know my new location is going to be the perfect base from which to carry on discovering more about the rich and varied habitats and wildlife of this part of North Wales.

A good few of my posts have related to the nature reserve of Bryn Euryn, the big bulky hill around whose base much of Rhos on Sea is built and my new home, on its eastern slope couldn’t have put me into closer contact with it. The beginning of a public footpath leading up onto the Bryn’s Woodland Trail is within a few metres of the entrance to the apartment block I live in now.

Early morning view to the east across Colwyn Bay

The views from the living room of my top-floor flat, although partially screened by trees, are ones I have photographed many times, albeit from higher up on the hilltop and then from the kitchen window the steeply rising wooded hillside is just a few metres away. Thanks to residents on the ground floor who put food out for the birds, I have a wonderful eye-level view of an array of woodland birds making the most of the food on offer.

There are almost always wood pigeons somewhere close by, most often perched up high surveying the busy little birds flitting about below. Pigeons nest pretty much all year round and on several occasions in the past weeks I have seen birds carrying sticks, probably for running repairs.

Wood Pigeons keep an eye on an approaching Grey Squirrel

Sometimes they descend from their lofty perches allowing a closer look at their lovely softly-shaded plumage.

A handsome Wood Pigeon

Other larger birds I see on a regular basis are a pair of crows and a pair of magpies, who also strut around on the lawn and there have been a few glimpses of jays.

Where there is food on offer then there are bound to be opportunistic grey squirrels, there are several that scamper about amongst the trees here on the woodland edge. They generally get a bad press, but I love watching them, they are entertaining and clever and you have to admire their incredible agility. They are rather photogenic too.

One of the squirrels nibbling on a twig

A photogenic Grey squirrel

There are always blackbirds of course and recently both males and females have become more territorial. Males are singing and there are many chases amongst those that arrive for food; first arrivals see off those that may follow. I have no idea which, if any, are regular visitors, particularly since I watched the piece on TV about the Holt Blackbird Project, where the blackbirds are fitted with different combinations of coloured leg tags and residents monitor their comings and goings. To quote from the published results: One of the really incredible outcomes of the project is an understanding of the sheer number of birds that use the garden during the breeding season. The greatest number of individuals recorded on one day was 74, and even then there were some unringed birds still present. So, next time you see ‘your’ pair of Blackbirds in the garden, remember that they may not be exactly who you think they are! Who knew? I always knew there were a good few of them around, but as you only really see them singly or in twos or threes when they’re establishing territory, those numbers seem incredible. I have given a link to the article about the project, which makes fascinating reading.

Male blackbird

A dark and well-marked female blackbird

A lighter female blending perfectly in amongst the sunlit twiggy tree branches

There are thrushes about too, or at least one anyway. Back in early January I heard one singing early one morning from a tree in the front grounds, when it was barely light. I thought it was most likely to be a mistle thrush as they are early nesters, but I am not at all sure and was even less sure when I heard more singing at 7.25am in the morning a week later, this time at the back of the building and looked out of the bedroom window to see him singing away illuminated by a nearby security light.

150109TG-Thrush singing (1) -Bryn Euryn (DC)

9th January – A thrush singing from high in a tree

Robins have been singing for a few weeks now too and as with the blackbirds, there is no peace for those that venture in for food; as soon as one perches another is almost sure to swoop in and there are frequent chases through the vegetation.

A robin enjoying a rare moment of peace in the sun

So far, the finches I have seen here have been goldfinches and chaffinches, but on Tuesday a lovely female bullfinch was here for a while. I was expecting to see a male with her, but alas no sign of one, so perhaps it was a young one that hasn’t got a mate yet.

3/2/15-Bullfinch female

There are no house sparrows and I miss their noisy chirping and cheeping, and no starlings either, but I still have contact with both when I go back down the hill to visit my daughter. There are dunnocks though. Male dunnocks are singing now too.

Of the frequent visitors, Blue tits are the most numerous and there can be several here at any one time. They seem to have an orderly queuing system, each one taking food then taking leave or sometimes carrying it back to a nearby branch to eat it. There are more feeders in the garden next door and there is much commuting back and forth.

Blue tit

There are only ever two Great tits present at any one time, a male and a female. They have a more business-like approach to their feeding and although they make regular visits, they do not hang around once they have what they came for.

Female great tit

There are one, or perhaps two delightful little Coal tits too. Their approach in to the feeding site is more discreet than that of the Blue tits, made via the lower twiggy branches of the shrubby trees. They are also quick to leave once they have taken food.

Coal tit

A small flock of glorious Long-tailed tits flutter in intermittently as they make their rounds, but I haven’t managed to photograph them here yet.

One morning I looked out of the window and saw a bird that I didn’t immediately recognise, although it did look a bit thrush-like. I ran to get my camera and got just one image, through the glass, that I hoped would help with my identification. I had a feeling it was a redwing, but I hadn’t seen one for some years and couldn’t quite make the image I had fit with those in my books. I thought then maybe it was a sparrowhawk- right place, similar stance on the branch…? Anyway, I have been put right by fellow blogger Tony, who despite the not-so-brilliant quality of the image, immediately spotted it was indeed a redwing! I’m delighted – it’s another species to add to my list and to look out for again and I’m sure a sparrowhawk will be along any time soon.

150104TGBRD-Kitchen view 12- Sparrowhawk

Redwing-Turdus iliacus

Tuesday this week (the day I saw the bullfinch) was a glorious sunny day and a few of the birds took advantage of the warmth to take brief respite from their hectic feeding schedules to sit in the sunshine. I looked across to the laurel hedge and spotted a bird nestled into a small space framed by leaves. My eye was drawn by its pale-coloured breast, but it wasn’t until I looked through the camera lens that it occurred to me it was a blackcap, a female.

4/2/15-First glimpse of the female blackcap

She ventured out onto a twig in the sunshine

150204TGDC-Blackcap female first sighting this year (4)

She sat in the sunshine for a short while before flying off

She stayed around for a good few minutes, then moved across to an evergreen shrub in the neighbouring garden for a while before flying off. I expected to see a male somewhere near her, but as with the bullfinch there was no sign of one. More about blackcaps here.

Thursday morning was again gloriously sunny and a much warmer day too and a few minutes spent watching the usual comings and goings brought forth two more additions to my list. Firstly a glimpse of a greater spotted woodpecker high up in a tree, half-hiding behind a branch, then even more excitingly a tiny goldcrest. I was fairly sure I’d seen one here flitting about in the vegetation on a couple of occasions previously, and I stopped to watch one on my walk on Tuesday, but this was a really good, though brief sighting that confirmed my previous sightings weren’t just wishful thinking. We have a good number of conifer trees close by, which they like to use as nest sites, so I’m hoping to see more.

There’s more to the Orme

15 Saturday Feb 2014

Posted by theresagreen in Little Orme, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, The Wales Coast Path

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

cliffs of the Little Orme, Great tit singing, Greenfinch, house sparrow, long-tailed tit, red-throated diver, Robin, textures in landscape

When the wind blows and sunlight slides slowly around the bulk of the Little Orme textures and patterns are revealed on surfaces that may go unnoticed in any other season when the sun is higher in the sky.

CLIFFS

GRASS

ROCKS

PRICKLY PLANTS

SEA SWELLS

Red-throated diver

BIRDS AMONGST TANGLES OF TWIGS

Great Tit singing

House sparrow eating

Robin singing

Greenfinch singing

And a glimpse of a Long-tailed Tit

…and back down again

26 Sunday Jan 2014

Posted by theresagreen in birds of Wales, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

dunnock, Little Orme, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, Robin, song thrush, views from the Little Orme, views of Rhos-on-Sea, walk on the Little Orme

January 11th, last leg of the walk on the Little Orme

The winter months offer an opportunity to see places as they really are. Stripped of leaves and layers of foliage, without the colourful distractions of wildflowers and the movements of their insect visitors to draw the eyes, this is the time to appreciate the structure, the bare bones of a place. Walking back down from the top of the Little Orme, not only are the views spectacular, but you also see more clearly the layout of the reserve. On this scale you get a sense of how the patchwork of differing habitats mesh together and create the synergy that has resulted in the rich variety of wildlife that make this such a special place.

140111TG-Little Orme-View from near the top

A myriad of textures in one small patch of land

The sun, lower in the sky now reveals the true contours of a landscape. You realise a surface which til now has appeared smooth and rounded, is actually textured with a multitude of dips and hollows that are revealed by back-light and shadows.

Going down-a view of the pastures on the Little Orme

Further down a view of the enclosed pastures on the Little Orme that add yet another layer of texture

There is some farming activity on the lower slopes of the reserve where small fields are cultivated for crops and pastureland is enclosed with hedges or small walls and used for grazing sheep. Sheep are also free to range and graze other parts of the reserve too; they are an effective way to keep areas of grass shorn and clear of too much shrubbery and are aided and abetted in their mission by a healthy population of rabbits.

Despite what I wrote earlier about their being less distractions from the bigger picture of a place, I should probably know myself better and accept that I will always find distractions in the details whatever the season. Like a leafless, gnarly, knobbly hawthorn twig softened with lichen and highlighted by the sun.

Lichen on a sunlit hawthorn twig

Going back down Rabbit Hill was trickier than going up as it turned out, as it was quite wet and muddy and slippery underfoot. There was a dunnock so intent on feeding himself before going to roost for the night that he allowed me quite close before shooting off into cover. He wasn’t presenting his best side now, but its good to see things from a different angle now and then. I felt sorry for my disturbance, I know how hard it is for birds to find enough food to keep them going in the winter, especially through the cold nights.

A dunnock feeding on the slope of the downhill track

At the bottom the Robin was still about too, adopting the classic hunting method of the species by perching up off the ground and scanning the ground beneath them, then pouncing down onto potential prey.

Robin scanning the ground beneath for something edible

This little tree is testament to the strength of the prevailing winds

I had the thought of finishing off my walk along the quarried-out gorge that ends, or begins near one of the entrances to the reserve, but to my surprise much of its floor was covered by a pool of water several inches deep. My reason for wanting to go that way was to see if there may be a Song Thrush hunting for snails along the rocky wall there. Last year I spotted a pair nesting there and watched them as they hammered a succession of snails into palatable food for their young ones.

Song Thrush, photographed last July. One of a nesting pair.

Instead I carried along in the same direction, but around the top towards the large, sculptural lump of limestone that always puts me in mind of the Sugar Loaf Mountain, but in miniature of course. Sort of, with a bit of imagination? Regardless, I love that rock and have often wondered how it ended up there.

The limestone rock in context- you can just see the edge of the man-man quarried gorge in the foreground (click on to enlarge)

I am referring to the Sugar-loaf Mountain in Rio de Janeiro here, not the one in Wales that has the same name!

The rock baclit by the sun and the gorgeous view behind it

The rock backlit by the sun and the gorgeous view behind it (click on to enlarge)

One last thing, are there really green leaf buds on this tree already?

Signs of buds bursting

Bryn Euryn in preparation for Spring

12 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by theresagreen in Local Nature Reserves, Nature, nature of woodlands, nature photography, woodland birds

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, catkins, dunnock, long-tailed tit, pussy willow, Robin, treecreeper

I hadn’t visited the Bryn Euryn Local Nature Reserve for quite some time and thought I would rectify that last weekend. The morning weather had been varying between sunshine and showers, and arriving at the site during a sunny spell I walked first around the edge of the small quarry field to see what was growing there.

Lush growth of leaves of Arum maculatum -cuckoo pint, or lords & ladies

A very early flowering specimen of Heracleum sphondylium - common hogweed or cow parsnip. This is a herbaceous perennial or biennial belonging to the family Apiaceae. It is an umbelliferous plant, in the same group as fennel, cow parsley, ground elder and giant hogweed.

Dry seed heads of burdock

Swelling leaf buds

Silvery pussy willow

Pussy willow is a name given to many of the smaller species of the genus Salix (willows and sallows) when their furry catkins are young in early spring. Before the male catkins of these species come into full flower they are covered in fine, greyish fur and hence likened to tiny ‘pussy cats’. The catkins appear quite some time before the leaves, and are one of the earliest signs of spring. It is customary to gather branches of pussy willow to decorate the house in the springtime, particularly on Palm Sunday, as a substitute for palm branches.

From the field I crossed onto the track on the edge of the woodland which passes by an open area of allotments. There is often a robin to be seen here, which today continued with its foraging regardless of me being very close by, even stopping to pose on a nice mossy wooden perch in a patch of sunlight.

Posing robin

I had some good views of a dunnock there too as it pecked around amongst the dry leaves beneath the trees.

Dunnock -Prunella modular - almost at my eye-level

Dunnock-back view

Moving on towards the bottom of the steps, another brown bird flew past me and landed on the trunk of a big sycamore tree; a treecreeper. I was delighted to recognise it as a treecreeper, the first and only one I have seen so far in this location. I watched it or quite some time as it explored the tree trunk and higher branches, probing its beak into nooks and crannies searching or insects and spiders.

Treecreeper - the first I have sen in this location

The Treecreeper– Certhia familiaris is small, very active, bird that lives in trees. It has a long, slender, downcurved bill, patterned brown upperparts, whitish underparts, and long stiff tail feathers which help it creep up tree trunks. It breeds in the UK and is resident here. Birds may leave their breeding territories in autumn but most range no further than 20 km.

In Spain the very similar short-toed treecreeper – Certhia brachydactyla occurs. They are frequent visitors to our garden there, where they are equally as comfortable scuttling up the tall straight trunks of the palm trees as they are exploring the nooks and crannies of the native cork oaks. They are much easier to photograph there too being more in the open and in better light.

A short-toed treecreeper on the trunk of a palm tree, Sotogrande, Southern Spain.

According to my bird books, the main points of difference between the two species are location and that the short-toed species has brownish flanks and a different voice: the short-toed’s song is said to be louder and less high-pitched and the call note louder, more piping and sometimes trilling. However, it is a possibility that there is in actuality only one species as presented convincingly in this brilliant blog: http://10000birds.com/short-toed-treecreepers-do-not-exist.htm

Catkin - A long, thin, indeterminate inflorescence of tiny, petalless flowers growing on willows, birches, oaks, poplars, and certain other trees. The flowers on a catkin are either all male or all female. The female flowers are usually pollinated by the wind. Also called ament.

The woodland was full of birdsong and following the track up through the trees towards the summit of the hill (bryn) I was accompanied by a chorus of robin, blackbird, chaffinch, blue tit and great tit with stand-out performances from a couple of wrens and intermittent coo-ing interventions from wood pigeons. As I neared the top it began to rain quite heavily so I stood under an ivy-clad tree branch for a few minutes just listening until it stopped.

I carried on up to the summit, passing the trig point and over onto the open meadow or downs area that covers one slope of the hill. I was greeted by the sight of a complete arc of a rainbow that spanned a width far greater than I could fit into my viewfinder.

A rainbow arced across the sky bridging Rhos-on-sea and Penrhyn Bay

Part of the spectacular view from the summit of Bryn Euryn (click on photo to enlarge)

A close up of golden common gorse flowers and spiky leaves

On the path back down to the bottom a female blackbird was taking a bath in a newly filled puddle, disturbed from her ablutions by, yes, you’ve guessed, a bounding unleashed dog. I had been standing watching a small number of goldfinch foraging in the tops of a stand of tall trees, but I know when it’s time to leave and let the dogs have their share of the day.

There were a few more treats awaiting me in the car-parking area however. Two wood pigeons, probably a pair, sat preening on a branch in a patch of sunlight and a pair of great tit were foraging around the fenced part of the field.

Wood pigeon - Columba palumbus

I have always found great tit elude me when it comes to photographing them, so I hung around for a while hoping to capture an image or two. They flew across the car park into the low trees there and attempting to pick up on them I found four long-tailed tits instead. A special favourite of mine, I was more than happy with that, especially as they stayed around acrobatically and thoroughly scouring the intricate twigs of the trees.

Long-tailed tit - Aegithalos caudatus

Long-tailed Tit, back view

A robin was investigating the ground beneath the shrubbery the long-tailed tit was photographed in, then unexpectedly flew up onto a branch in full sunshine and began to sing.

Another robin singing, but this time in sunshine

Woodland birds on the move

31 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, nature photography, woodland birds

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

bird migration, Black Redstart, blackbird, Chiffchaff, migrant birds, Robin

This is a wonderful time of year to see numbers of birds here in southern Spain,when many migrants from northern and western Europe arrive to remain for the winter, or stay for a short while to take advantage of available food supplies before continuing their journeys across to north or sub-Saharan Africa.

On my return from the UK, the first bird I looked out for in my garden was a Black Redstart. This species is resident in Spain, breeding in the mountains then migrating in large numbers during the autumn, when they head here to the southern coastal areas of the country. Many will stay until March, while many more cross the Straits of Gibraltar to winter in Africa.

Black Redstart - Phoenicurus ochruros (Spanish-Colirrojo Tizon). This is either a female or possibly a juvenile, perched on a sun-lounger.

The male Black Redstart is a very striking bird

This will be our ninth winter of living in this house and each year a Black Redstart has arrived to stake a claim to a territory that includes our garden. It is always a bird that resembles the one above, so either a female or a young bird, it’s tricky to tell the difference. I would like to believe that it is the same bird that returns each year, but that may be construed as sentimental and not at all realistic or scientific. I am told that this may simply be recognised as ‘a territory’. Anyway, I look forward to the arrival of the delightful little bird. They are always quite a few to be seen throughout the area, some will stay around where there are buildings, others in cultivated areas, on golf courses and even on the edges of beaches.

For the past two or three years, I haven’t got to see ‘my’ Black Redstart as often as I used to, as we have also had resident Robins. The two species are closely related and the Robins, that are resident locally all year round, stake out the territory earlier on and defend it vigilantly. So, as soon as the Black Redstart puts its beak over the garden wall, the Robin is there to chase it away.

Robin-Erithacus rubecula (Spanish - Petirrojo)

It is interesting to see Robins as migrant birds, and this time of year sees the arrival of birds from the more northern parts of Europe swelling the resident numbers, with numbers of birds peaking in October-November. As with the Black Redstarts, some will stay here to overwinter while others will travel on to Africa.

Blackbird-Turdus merula (Spanish-Mirlo Comun) with very prominent white wing feathers

Blackbirds are amongst the most numerous bird species resident locally, but at this time of year their presence is especially noticeable. Juveniles disperse in August and September and ‘foreign’ birds arrive or pass through the locality, with numbers peaking in mid-October. Numbers of Blackbirds are attracted to our garden now by the masses of tiny berries produced by the Florida palms. As they are present all year, it is usually impossible to spot ‘incomers’ other than by territorial behaviour, when those I assume to be resident birds chase others away. The Blackbird in my photograph made it easy to spot that it was an ‘incomer’ as he was marked with white feathers. I would definitely have noticed him earlier in the year.

Chiffchaff-Phylloscopus collybita (Spanish-Mosquitero Comun)

There are a lot of tiny Chiffchaff around presently, at one time in the garden early this afternoon I counted ten and there could well have been more. A few will stay here for the winter, most will move on. Chiffchaffs are delightful little birds and very entertaining to watch as they flit and flutter through trees and shrubs searching leaves for insects. On sunny days, when there are clouds of flies or gnats about they perch on the tips of twigs and palm leaves, then dive down and chase the insects, balletically turning and twisting in the air.

It never ceases to amaze me that such tiny birds impart on these long journeys, especially those that are no more than a few months old, and marvel at their innate knowledge of where to go and how to get there and back again. And we call people ‘bird-brained’ as an insult!