Amersham, October 24, 2014 - Great Grey Shrike, and the thrill of seeking shelter in a hedge

Amersham hills

Amersham

Sheltering in a hedge - the best

Great Grey Shrike Lanius excubitor

Eurasian Jay Garrulus glandarius

European Robin Erithacus rubecula, my partner in hedge

  After a lovely month-and-a-bit in Denmark, I'm back in Amersham for a week before heading to Devon this weekend (last chance for Ring Ouzels?!). It's been classically autumnal here, with silvery skies, chilly rain, and rolling fields of tan. Under the threatening clouds that regularly roll through the area, I went out for a stroll in the hills of Amersham today.

  About ten minutes into my muddy saunter, the skies opened up, in a strange situation that looked to me like one small, dark rain-cloud had parked itself over me, cartoon-style. Instead of using my exciting new surplus poncho (surplus stores rock), I followed the ancient impulse that lit up in my head - 'hide'. After kicking away some menacing thorns, I pushed my way into a small void in a hedge, and hunkered down under the thin canopy of yellowing leaves. As the rain squall soaked the fields, I sat there for 15 minutes or so, relatively dry and happy. It was a strangely relaxing and cozy situation, and pretty soon other rain refugees joined me. A Robin and a small band of Long-tailed Tits bounced through the hedge and perched around and above me for the duration of the rain shower, eyeing me curiously. We're in this together, fellas.

  It reminded me of a warm and fuzzy memory from my youth. While staying at a country house north of Montreal with my family, I made a habit of heading into the forest when it rained, wearing a huge green poncho. I'd sit on a clump of moss, listening to the rain drum on my hood, for endless happy hours. He's a weird one, that one.

  When the rain ended (today, not in my youth), I reluctantly extricated myself from the hedge, my knees going off like firecrackers. Not five minutes down the trail, I walked past a gap in a hedge, and found myself staring at a medium-sized greyish bird at a distance of about 20 feet. In the span of one second, the internal dialogue in my head went like this: 'Shrike! Can't be, it's a Jay. Jay, must be. Jay habitat? Not Jay. Great Grey Shrike! Shrike!! Get an image!', and I cracked off a few record shots before it flew off into the empty field, eventually doubling back into the same long hedge. High five! 

  Other highlights from my walk included 30+ Skylarks overhead, numerous Yellowhammers, some good looks at an actual Eurasian Jay, several flyover Fieldfares, two active clusters of Chaffinch, single Green and Great Spotted Woodpeckers, a Eurasian Sparrowhawk being seen off by a Magpie, and noisy European Robins – everywhere. Additionally, contrasting with their secretive summer behaviour, numerous Pheasants and Moorhens were spotted out in the open, feeding at the edges of the fields fairly boldly. On my way back an hour later, the Great Grey Shrike was spotted again in the same bit of hedge. Re-high five!

We want YOU, on Team Sisu

Team Sisu (note the Finnstick-equipped binos, visible at far left), with an uber-cheerful Dr. Moores on the right

It was weird to have all these birders in 'my' park

Moments before spotting the vaunted Pacific Reef Egret

Checking out the Yellow-billed Loons at Seongsan (Nial without gloves of course)

Pacific Reef Egret Egretta sacra

  Way back in February of this year, Dr. Nial Moores led a group of Finnish birders on a whistle-stop birding tour of South Korea, and on the 9th, the circus came to Jeju, tour bus and all. I should mention that this wasn’t your average group of Finnish birders (if I had a Markka for every average group of Finnish birders...), it was essentially the Finnish rarities committee, some real heavy hitters. These were the kind of hardcore birders that watched a juvenile Pale Thrush for 40 minutes then had a lengthy discussion on the finer points of ageing the species in the field. Legit.
  Keeping this in mind, when I was kindly invited to join the Jeju leg of their tour, ostensibly to offer some local knowledge, I kept repeating: Don’t say anything stupid in my thick head. The proceedings got off to a tense start when I boarded the rented bus in the pre-dawn gloom of Jeju City. It seems that the Finns each had their own favourite seat on the bus, and this seating order was written in stone (it was, I saw the tablets), and not to be trifled with. I floundered on and sat in the first available seat, which was earmarked for a Finn who had yet to embark.
  “HiyaI’mMattI’mtheguyNialknowsIliveonJejuhehhehheh,” I blurted in a thin voice. Icy glares. Goatees twitching.
  “I’m a birder,” I added helpfully, pivoting my shoulders to display the bins slung around my neck, assuring them that I wasn’t just some random foreigner who had decided to jump onto a tour bus at five in the a.m. to see where it was going. Nothing is icier than a bus full of testy Finns. They were an intimidating lot - at least half of them looked like members of a badass death metal band.
  Nial defused the crisis by hustling me into another seat, but I felt I had to make amends. At the first stop, a park in Jeju City, I bore gifts. I ran into a GS 25 and grabbed an armload of cans of hot iced coffee from the heat fridge (try figuring that one out), and meekly passed them out to every Finn I could find. That gesture melted their frosty demeanors in a Helsinki heartbeat, and soon we were laughing and making cracks about how all Finns are reputed to carry knives in their boots (“Not all of us, haw haw haw!”). They were impressed by the fact that I had been to Finland and knew of the uniquely Finnish concept of Sisu, which translates more or less to “grim determination against all odds.”
  We semi-circumnavigated the island that day, as we birded east along the Jeju’s north coast towards Seongsan, south down the east coast, and back west to Seogwipo, where they spent the night. A stressful development arose when the bus driver goofed up his ETA for a prime Pacific Reef Egret location, and advised us that we wouldn’t make it there before the sun had set. The ash-grey Pacific Reef Egret was one of the crucial Jeju target species that the Finns wanted to get look at, but hadn’t yet caught up with.
  “Matt, we need another site for Pacific Reef Egret that is within an eight-minute drive of here,” Nial casually informed me. OK, no problem, sure, no pressure. I whipped out my taped-together, falling-apart tourist map of Jeju and spread the pitiful fragments out on the seat beside me. There was only one suitable town with a harbour within range.
  “Let’s go to Pyoson, it’s a good spot for Reefies,” I said with confidence. I had never before seen Pacific Reef Egrets there.
  The bus braked to a noisy stop in the tiny harbour, and the Finns fanned out towards the ocean. You could tell that the few startled locals felt like they were under attack, as 15 tall foreigners wearing khaki and bristling with optics clinked town through like a bumbling SWAT team. I liked that. That’s how I roll, I mused, banking that feeling for all those times when I get glared at while solo birding in Korea.
  We all ended up in the backyard of a boarded-up house, studying the horizon. I summoned my inner Sisu, and was fortunate enough to pick out a large dark bird flying low to the water. I yelped: “Pacific Reef Egret!” but tried not to point, as Nial had already reprimanded me twice that day for pointing. The Finns got on it quickly, and a row of smiling goatees gave me nods of benediction. I walked back to the bus with an “Of course there are Reefies here,” swagger to my step. The birding gods had slipped me a little Sisu for once.
  Besides being some of the best birders around (watching Nial’s gull ID getting mercilessly questioned was a shock – it’s just not done!), most of the Finns had a unique piece of kit: the Finnstick, a foot-long handle slung under their bins, opera-glasses style. All Finnish birders use them, for extra stability. They explained that Finnish soldiers started using this device on their optics during the Winter War with the Soviet Union (to mitigate shivering), and Finnish birders have carried the practice forward. Neat-o!

Birds Korea Status of Birds, 2014

  Birds Korea has just come out with this impressive piece of research, which has clearly taken an immense amount of time and expertise to produce. It illustrates well the current status of birds and their habitats in Korea, and the varied and growing challenges they face.

Introduction:
http://www.birdskorea.org/Habitats/Yellow-Sea/YSBR/BK-HA-ROK-Status-of-Birds-2014.shtml

Birds Korea Status of Birds 2014: http://www.birdskorea.org/Habitats/Yellow-Sea/YSBR/Downloads/Birds-Korea-Status-of-Birds-2014.pdf

Birds of Denmark, the sequel, September 17-28, 2014

Dunnock Prunella modularis

European Greenfinch Chloris chloris with deformed bill (or could it be dried berry gunk?)

Great Tit Parus major

Hooded Crow Corvus cornix

Busy fields at Ebeltoft

Northern Lapwings Vanellus vanellus in a mixed flock with sensor dust

'Northern x Southern' Long-tailed Tit Aegithalos caudatus

Common Ringed Plover Charadrius hiaticula

European Golden Plovers Pluvialis apricaria

Danish list continued:

38. Eurasian Siskin (Guldbaek, September 17, 2014)

39. Yellowhammer (Guldbaek, September 17, 2014)

40. House Martin (Guldbaek, September 17, 2014)

41. Common Raven (Guldbaek, September 18, 2014)

42. Spotted Flycatcher (Guldbaek, September 18, 2014)

43. Meadow Pipit (Guldbaek, September 19, 2014)

44. Chaffinch (Guldbaek, September 19, 2014)

45. Dunnock (Guldbaek, September 19, 2014)

46. Northern Lapwing (Near Esbjerg, September 20, 2014)

47. Linnet (Esbjerg, September 22, 2014)

48. Collared Dove (Esbjerg, September 22, 2014)

49. European Golden Plover (Ebeltoft, September 25, 2014)

50. Common Gull (Ebeltoft, September 25, 2014)

51. Grey Partridge (Ebeltoft, September 25, 2014)

52. Mallard (Ebeltoft, September 25, 2014)

53. European Goldfinch (Ebeltoft, September 25, 2014)

54. Common Ringed Plover (Ebeltoft, September 25, 2014)

55. Great Grey Shrike (Ebeltoft, September 26, 2014)

56. Common Snipe (Ebeltoft, September 28, 2014)

57. Mute Swan (Ebeltoft, September 28, 2014)

Birding Denmark, the sequel, September 17-28, 2014

(Original image via Google)

Fanø Island, off Esbjerg

Dawn at Ebeltoft

Ebeltoft llamas

Randomness on the beach at Esbjerg

The beach at Esbjerg

Ebeltoft fields

Beach at Ebeltoft

Ebeltoft field

Small lake near Ebeltoft

That's how I roll

  The last two weeks have seen me leave the vineyard at Guldbaek (just south of Aalborg), spend several days on Denmark’s west coast at Esbjerg, then move to a llama farm (!) at Ebeltoft, which juts (!) eastward from the Jutland peninsula.

  At Guldbaek there were plenty of interesting woodland and countryside birds about, notable being good views of a normally skiddish Hooded Crow, a European Greenfinch with an apparently deformed bill, and several Dunnock posing on the tips of young spruce trees, just like they’re supposed to. I finally got a decent look at some Long-tailed Tits around Guldbaek, which appeared to be intermediate between the black-headed form found further south, and northern white-headed caudatus form.

  Most notable in the hilly fields around Ebeltoft have been large (100-300 of each species) mixed flocks of Northern Lapwing, Common Starling, and Black-headed Gull resting in the fields or flying overhead, with smaller numbers (30-80) of European Golden Plover sprinkled in. Also seen in and around Ebeltoft were: a single Northern Wheatear perching on a pile of haystacks, apparently on its way south; loose groups of Meadow Pipits and Linnets rippling overhead fairly regularly; six Grey Partridge flushing close to a road and landing nearby; a Great Grey Shrike keeping vigil from a dead tree next to the llama farm; and a Common Ringed Plover pacing the nearby beach.

  Next stop: Sønderborg, on the German border.

Birds of Denmark, September 7-16, 2014

Common Chiffchaff Phylloscopus collybita - should it show so much yellow and such a strong supercilium?

Common Chiffchaff Phylloscopus collybita

Blue Tit Cyanistes caeruleus

Crested Tit Lophophanes cristatus

European Hare Lepus europaeus (not a bird, clearly)

Great Spotted Woodpecker Dendrocopos major

Goldcrest Regulus regulus

Northern Wheatear Oenanthe oenanthe

Fugle i Danmark:

1.     Western Jackdaw (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014) 

2.      Common Wood Pigeon (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

3.      Common Kestrel (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

4.      Black-headed Gull (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

5.      European Herring Gull (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

6.      Common Magpie (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

7.      Hooded Crow (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

8.      Barn Swallow (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

9.      Great Cormorant (Near Guldbaek, September 7, 2014)

10.   Eurasian Jay (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

11.   Carrion Crow (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

12.   Great Tit (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

13.   Eurasian Bullfinch (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

14.   Common Blackbird (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

15.   Blue Tit (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

16.   Willow Warbler (Guldbaek, September 8, 2014)

17.   House Sparrow (Guldbaek, September 9, 2014)

18.   Coal Tit (Guldbaek, September 9, 2014)

19.   Long-tailed Tit (Guldbaek, September 9, 2014)

20.   Eurasian Wren (Guldbaek, September 9, 2014)

21.   Goldcrest (Guldbaek, September 9, 2014)

22.   Common Buzzard (Guldbaek, September 10, 2014)

23.   Crested Tit (Guldbaek, September 10, 2014)

24.   Great Spotted Woodpecker (Guldbaek, September 10, 2014)

25.   Common Skylark (Guldbaek, September 10, 2014)

26.   White Wagtail (Guldbaek, September 10, 2014)

27.   Eurasian Nuthatch (Guldbaek, September 12, 2014)

28.   Eurasian Treecreeper (Guldbaek, September 12, 2014)

29.   Grey Heron September (Guldbaek, 12, 2014)

30.   Northern Wheatear (Lindholm Museum) September 13, 2014)

31.   Tree Sparrow (Lindholm, September 13, 2014)

32.   Common Pheasant (Guldbaek, September 13, 2014)

33.   European Greenfinch (Guldbaek, September 13, 2014)

34.   Common Starling (Guldbaek, September 15, 2014)

35.   Common Kingfisher (Guldbaek, September 16, 2014)

36.   European Robin (Guldbaek, September 16, 2014)
37. Common Chiffchaff (Guldbaek, September 16, 2014)

Birding Denmark, September 7-16, 2014

Foggy morning at the vineyard

The woods of Guldbaek

Urban habitat in Aalborg

Vinland

Guldbaek

Vines, and the stand of pines where I saw my very first Crested Tit

Viking burial stones at Lindholm Museum, favoured by Northern Wheatear

  I have been hanging out at a Danish vineyard for two weeks - I'd highly recommend it. Whenever possible, I've been sneaking off into the countryside to bird, as I do. It's been said that if you stand on a case of beer, you can see all of Denmark, and that's not too far off. It's a depressingly flat country, not blessed with a huge range of dramatic landscapes - you'd be hard-pressed to see something other than farms and small woods from the window of a cross-country train.

  In spite of being so topographically challenged, Denmark is in a geographically interesting spot, with an northern/eastern European flavour to some of the bird life. Denmark also lies in a strategically important spot as far as north-south migration is concerned - apparently this week there are 'dozens' of birders stacked up at Skagen, Denmark's northernmost tip. I ran into Skagen's frigid waters, where North Sea meets Baltic, in my underwear once. In February. But that will have to remain a story for another day.

  The woods here are pretty lively with tits and other birds one might expect to find in the European woods. The bird of the week has to be the Crested Tit. As I looked through my Collins for birds that I may have a chance at seeing in Denmark, the Crested Tit jumped out as my number one target bird, for better or worse. The very next day, as I was picking through a mixed group of tits, a Crested Tit landed perhaps four feet from my eyes, which threatened to pop out of my head and hit the bird. I spent an amazing three minutes watching it from close range, strongly wondering why I had left my camera behind. The few Crested Tits I've encountered seem to have an 'authority' about them, if that makes any bit of sense. The other tits clear off when a Crested Tit comes through, and it takes its time, moving around a lot less nervously than most birds of a similar size. Perhaps it's all in my head.

  Off to Esbjerg on the west coast next week, I'm hoping to get more of a taste of the fall migration, as well as meet up with Jens Thalund, a fine fellow whom I had the pleasure of birding with on Jeju in 2011.

Birds of Derbyshire, August 26-28, 2014

Spotted Flycatcher Muscicapa striata

female Common Redstart Phoenicurus phoenicurus

Spotted Flycatcher Muscicapa striata with Common Redstart Phoenicurus phoenicurus

male Common Redstart Phoenicurus phoenicurus

juvenile Common Blackbird Turdus merula

Common Reed Bunting Emberiza schoeniclus

White-throated Dipper Cinclus cinclus

Meadow Pipit Anthus pratensis in the heather

Mandarin Ducks Aix galericulata

European Robin Erithacus rubecula

Whinchat Saxicola rubetra

juvenile Common Wood Pigeon Columba palumbus

UK list continued:

79. Grey Partridge (Between Winchmore Hill and Penn, August 21, 2014)

(Tawny Owl – heard only, near Winchmore Hill, August 21, and Amerhsam near Tesco, wee hours of August 23, 2014)

(Water Rail – heard only, Shardeloes, August 21, 2014)

80. Common Redstart (Monyash, Derbyshire, August 26, 2014)
81. Twite (Monyash, Derbyshire, August 26, 2014)

82. White-throated Dipper (Near Monyash, Derbyshire, August 27, 2014)

83. Great Spotted Woodpecker (Burbage, Derbyshire, August 28, 2014)

84. Common Reed Bunting (Burbage, Derbyshire, August 28, 2014)

85. Whinchat (Burbage, Derbyshire, August 28, 2014)