I was in England last week, on a training course on the farmland around Salisbury Plain and Avebury to learn how to better catch corn buntings. It was an inspirational trip in many respects. Almost no-one in the UK catches corn buntings except by accident, but the “guru”, Matt Pryor, catches hundreds every year through very diligent mist-netting, whoosh netting and even thermal imaging cameras and a fishing keep net, as he sneaks up to them roosting in pitch black stubble fields. His real secret – perhaps not such a secret – is a huge amount of observation, preparation and patience. He might watch some corn buntings feeding regularly at a farm, and then he puts grain down every few days in the area for at least a couple of months before he tries to catch them. And then he will only try a couple of times, having learnt that corn buntings immediately work out what is going on and avoid the nets. But Matt has already been baiting lots of sites, so moving to a new one is easy, and his catch rate is maintained. A huge amount of fieldcraft and patience. I knew theoretically this is what was needed, but it is another thing to see it in action and so gain the confidence to put in all the effort that will be required.
A male corn bunting – probably adult, although ageing corn buntings is still work in progress – caught at night with a thermal imaging camera and a fishing keep net, as it roosted in a stubble field. A tricky business. This is now colour-ringed “V16” and can be followed to see where it feeds and breeds and how long it lives so we can better tell how to manage farmland habitats for these declining species
As well as corn bunting catching tips, it was inspiring to see how Matt has been working with the local farmers and landowners to not only catch birds for ringing, but to help them manage their farms in small ways to improve the number of birds on their land. He has over many years created a large network of farmers on the downland around Marlborough working hard to add wild bird strips, hedgerows and other important habitat. The results were easy to see – a lot of birds – yellowhammers, corn buntings, tree sparrows – that are all massively declining in many other areas of England. There are other factors operating, but on one field on the edge of Salisbury Plain last Wednesday I watched a very large flock of corn buntings, grey partridges and yellowhammers, lapwing and golden plover, with several ravens, red kites, a sparrowhawk and a couple of buzzards passing by. And not to forget the 32 great bustard that were in two fields directly behind. The latter were a bit of a local random – the farm is next door to the reintroduction scheme pens – but nevertheless, it was an opportunity to gaze into a possible future for farmland birds in Britain, with passionate and knowledgeable farmers.
Some of the great bustards on Salisbury Plain last Wednesday – probably the only time they will ever feature on Wild Crail. One is a remote possibility here, particularly if the reintroductions finally succeed.
The number of red kites in southern England is now truly incredible. Especially for someone that grew up in a time when there were just a handful holding on in remote Welsh valleys. On Friday, glancing out of the train window as I worked from Chippenham to Slough I counted 28. There was a red kite or two every time I looked up. In towns like Reading and Swindon, they must be common garden birds. Still a rarity in Fife, but once they get here they will thrive. I look forward to Crail red kites in due course. Watching them this week all over the downs reminded me that when we set our minds to improving things for wildlife, we can. We just need to decide.
Red kites (John Anderson). Unlike great bustards, their reintroduction has been spectacularly successful. Still only an occasional feature on the Crail patch list, but getting more common, year on year.
I was back at Kilminning yesterday to see how the pond is progressing. About 85% dug and the tarmac about 85% covered. The water source is now exposed, passing into the east end of the pond. That needs to be piped into the centre and an overflow, the level of which we can control, established. And of course the pond needs to be lined with clay – although the substrate is pretty clay rich anyway. The clay arrives next week. Even though I am fairly sure that everything will be completed in the next two weeks, the possibility of seeing it actually full of water, and the tarmac area ready to actually grow some useful vegetation still seems remote. It looks fairly bleak just now, although perfect for any early little ringed plover.
The pond grows at Kilminning
After checking Kilminning I headed down to Balcomie and Fife Ness. Lots of waders on the beach, but at Fife Ness the oystercatchers, redshanks, turnstones and purple sandpipers were very restless, alarm calling and shifting to a new set of rocks every few minutes. I eventually spotted the reason (I had been hoping for an otter) – a female sparrowhawk moving gradually along the rocky shore, from perch to perch. Mostly invisible, but when I spotted it, on top of a rock in the sunlight, initially looking goshawk like. Older female sparrowhawks can go quite bluey grey on their backs and depending on circumstances look much bigger than you might expect. A closer look and it was “just” a sparrowhawk, its glaring yellow eye shining out even at a distance. It moved and disappeared again although I could track its passage by the moving flocks of waders. A couple of minutes later it passed a few meters from me, over the tip of the Fife Ness rocks, still hoping for that oblivious or careless redshank. Apart from the alarming waders, it was once again a quiet watch at Fife Ness. Just a couple of gannets and a razorbill. No ducks or divers passing at all. Such a contrast to late summer, or the stormy autumn. But busier days will be upon us in just 6 or 7 weeks.
Female sparrowhawk hunting on the rocky shore at Balcomie (John Anderson)
Birding has taken a back seat the last couple of weeks, with the weather but mainly because of Kilminning. After two years of preparing, permissions, fund raising, paperwork, archaeology, planning and more paperwork the construction team arrived on site to start work on the wetland on the 8th. Today I walked around Lower Kilminning, two weeks in, and took stock. I am still in a state of disbelief that the project is actually happening. Up until last Tuesday (i.e. the 16th), when the archaeologist finally confirmed that there was nothing there, there was always a possibility that a medieval grave, or some other bit of history was going to derail the project. My contingency for the project has evaporated over the last 18 months. Any bit of archaeology would have literally been a show stopper because we cannot afford to delay the construction. This sounds like a gamble – but the historical records, maps, previous archaeological investigations including proper trenches right next to the pond area, and our own thorough ground penetrating radar survey all indicate that the medieval graveyard that might have scuppered the project, is to the south. But if you talk to archaeologists, then you soon start to share their belief that every piece of ground that you dig up has potential history in it, and you can never prove the negative until you have gone through every bucketful of soil. So I have been on edge the whole time the archaeologist has been on site, stripping all of the soil back to the rock and digging exploratory trenches. A farmyard wall, some field drains and a cow bone later, we are finally cleared for takeoff. Phew. A dull week for the archaeologist, but a great one for me.
The site of the pond – a football pitch sized area with a maximum depth of about 1.5 – 2 meters and a shallow, shelving area on the north side.
Another uncertainty on the site where we are digging the pond is the amount and type of rock that is present. Rock equals time and so expense in construction digging. But this has turned out well this week, like the archeology. What rock is there is a very soft, muddy sandstone that can be more or less lifted out by the big digger. So today, I stood and looked at a half dug wetland, and half-covered tarmac. And with the certainty that the project can go ahead fully. There is at least two weeks worth of work to do. Digging out the rest of the pond, lining it with 20 centimeters of clay, and then establishing the water supply – diverting the field drain into the pond, and then reinstating an overflow – and covering the rest of the tarmac. A lot has been done already but Kilminning looks like a building site, made worse by the wet conditions and the claggy soil. Very much work in progress at the moment and it takes imagination to imagine the wetland and a meadow. The scale of it is now clear though. The pond is about 0.6 Ha – the size of a football pitch. It should be big enough for a lot of wildlife.
Before, during and after. Soil from the pond is being used to cover the tarmac to a depth of about 40 cm. The tarmac is listed and cannot be removed or damage, so it is covered by a membrane before covering it with soil. There is a long story here, and what we have is a compromise of preservation and nature conservation. Removing the tarmac – even if we were allowed to do it – would have probably made restoration of the site unaffordable, and the tarmac layer’s effect on drainage may make for some really interesting ecological conditions that may actually enhance the area as a functional and diverse meadow.
There were a few birds about this morning – and indeed all week – despite the digging and the disturbance. Mistle thrushes, redwings, robins, pied wagtails and stonechats have been feeding on the soil piles and the disturbed ground – a frost free bonus for them this week. Stonechats were unusually in the central former tarmac area on the newly laid soil. I flushed a couple of woodcock this morning from this area too.
Sunday morning and my favourite walk from Kingsbarns to Kenly along the coast, along Kenly Water and back through Pitmilly. A jay on the way flying out of Cambo and a flock of lapwing at the usual place at Kenly to take the year list up to 96. But overall quiet, with birds concentrating on making a living in the continuing cold weather. Boghall Farm was its usual oasis – with one of the weedy sheep fields full of chaffinches, starlings, fieldfares and about 15 mistle thrush. The next field along had over 40 twite – initially on the rocky shore just north of red sands, where they have been most recent winters. There was a dipper again along the stretch of the Kenly Water downstream of the Boarhills footbridge. I think there are two pairs now with the territories split roughly by the footbridge. There may be several more as you move upstream past where the main road crosses the burn (at the place where the bridge parapet is always getting knocked off by careless drivers). There is room for another 4 territories at least between Boarhills and Dunino. But there is only one way to count dippers although it’s fairly easy. You just walk all the way up a burn in waders. Any dipper will stay in front of you until they reach the end of their – obviously – linear territory, and then they will double back and zoom past you closely, calling loudly to further get your attention. It may be easy, but it is time consuming and sooner or later you slip into the water or step into a very deep pool. I helped a friend doing a PhD study on dippers many years’ ago and we mapped a lot of their territories on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Wet work, and even though we did it in the late spring, very cold at times.
One of our local stars – a dipper (John Anderson – taken today). Our only songbird (passerine) species that feeds underwater, by clambering along the bottom in fast flowing streams, using its wings and the current to create downward force rather than lift.
A cold and quiet day. Yesterday was the coldest day of the winter so far – 2 degrees all day and very dreich. Today up a couple of degrees but little wind and a lot of low sun so it felt much warmer. One or two great tits agreed and were singing today. Balcomie Beach at low tide this morning was covered with dunlin, sanderling and ringed plover. Out in the bay there were long-tailed ducks, red-breasted mergansers and goldeneyes. The sea was calm. At Fife Ness it was possible to count the red-throated divers – more than 35. They kept moving about in small groups and associating on the water – there may have been many more. Some winters, similar conditions can lead to counts of more than 50, so good today but not exceptional. I also saw three little gulls dipping and picking food from the surface in three different groups of common gulls doing the same. All were in the second winter so still with black “W”s on their backs, but not at all like young kittiwakes that have the same pattern: at a distance they looked much less clean and distinct. Kittiwakes themselves were not to be seen today, and there were no gannets either. There was a good size flock of 17 purple sandpipers moving restlessly between the rocks at the tide edge.
Red-throated diver (John Anderson). The best character to identify red-throated divers from the other diver species is its uptilted bill.
This evening – just as the sun was setting – I walked through some of the stubbles at Randerston. Every winter – every season – differs from ones before, and this winter is characterized by the almost complete absence of skylarks. For some reason the big flocks that usually winter here haven’t arrived this year. In about a kilometer of walking through stubble, with my dog ranging back and forth, we only flushed 4 skylarks (and two meadow pipits): typically this might be of the order of 100. Perhaps the time of day contributed making them less likely to flush as roosting behaviour set in. I walked back along the shore to Cambo. High tide now, with redshank, oystercatchers and turnstones along every bit of the strand line. A flock of wigeon arrived in the cow pasture beside the golf course, setting themselves up for a night of grazing, undisturbed by walkers.
The black redstart has now spent 9 weeks in Roome Bay. I think we can officially call it a winter resident. Today it was in the usual place, on the usual creels and bits of cliff.
The black redstart, Roome Bay, late afternoon today
More unexpected was an adult little gull quartering over the winter wheat field between Pinkerton and the airfield just before dusk this afternoon. January little gulls are very unusual – although this winter there have been a few at Fife Ness throughout – and inland little gulls even more so. They breed inland on the continent in large freshwater lakes and marshes, and they are a gull so are pretty flexible, but nevertheless one feeding in a field here like a black-headed or common gull is exceptional.
Inland little gull, with the airfield and Kilminning behind – really handsome as usual and you can see just a little bit pink underneath like a Ross’s gull. This might be mostly the sunset light though.
After the fuss of trying to track down whooper swans at the end of last year, I bumped into a family group of 4 in the fields by the Yellow House at Wormiston. Two adults and two juveniles – easy to spot as the dirty looking greyish white birds next to the pristine white adults. The field last had potatoes in it and I suspect a few have got washed out in the rain attracting the swans in, even though it has been ploughed subsequently and sown with winter wheat.
There seem to be more merlins about – since the New Year I have seen 4 in different places on the Crail patch. Today’s bird was near the converted church at the west side of Boarhills. Merlins were scarcer at the end of last year compared to previous years, with hardly any in August and September, which is usually the best time to see them. They seem to be back now.
Grey wagtails finally revealed themselves to me today – again it’s all luck sometimes. Today there were grey wagtails at Roome Bay and at dusk going to roost along the Brandyburn at Crail Primary School. Still no dunlins though, even with careful checking of the waders roosting at Sauchope. It was just ringed plovers and turnstones today.
As you drive along the road from Hammer Inn back into Crail, there is a huge waterlogged winter wheat field to the east. Winter wheat at this time of year just looks like dull sprigs of grass growing in rows in mostly still bare soil. The interest there is the large flock of fieldfares (and starlings) taking advantage of the worms and other invertebrates that are being flushed out of the soil by the very wet conditions. It isn’t a convenient place to stop and count, but there seems to be several hundred fieldfares there. This is repeated in several other places on the Crail patch – I kept on encountering big flocks of fieldfares on my January 1st bird race. This is quite unusual, with only a couple of other winters in the last 20 when there were lots of fieldfares around mid-winter, and this year I think takes the record.
One of the several hundred fieldfares in the field just to the north of Crail, beside the St Andrews road (John Anderson)
I did my usual New Year’s Day bird race yesterday, spending all day, dawn to dusk trying to see as many bird species as I can within the Crail (10km from my house) patch. I have done this since 2012, and seriously in the sense that I try to beat the existing record since 2016, and in my dreams try to get over 100. If I had a perfect day, seeing everything that I know is always resident on the patch at this time of year I would get 95, and then with a bit of luck with a few scarcer but not unlikely birds like puffin, or velvet scoter, or great northern diver, then over 100 is possible. But the current record for me is 88, set last year. I haven’t yet had that perfect day, and it wasn’t to be again yesterday. My total was a creditable 85, but I felt frustrated all day because some very common birds eluded me – greenfinch, pied wagtail, grey wagtail, dunlin and stonechat. I saw most of these this morning of course. There is always an element of luck in any day list but you can make your own luck when you know your area. I was up to 80 by 2 pm yesterday but was missing some woodland species, despite having tried the woods at Kenly and Kingsmuir. I was also (bizarrely) missing skylark (the fields are really marshy just about everywhere so the skylarks have dispersed atypically). The best place to get great spotted woodpecker, treecreeper, long-tailed tit and skylark together? Kingsbarns, along the road to the beach car park. Good trees on one side and stubbles on the other. I got them all, with some long-tailed tits making the 85th species of the day, just after a bonus jack snipe (enjoying the marshy field) and my long sought after skylark as I looped through the adjacent stubble field. As well as the jack snipe, I was lucky with a little auk first thing from Fife Ness, a couple of merlins, the black redstart (now in its 9th week of its residency so I was banking on this) and some ravens. I have had all of these on New Year’s day before, but I would never rely on them, although ravens are now always somewhere on the Crail patch, any day of the year. This morning I was mopping up and got the list up to 90 – adding bar-tailed godwit and greenfinch at Balcomie (I should have just walked a bit further along the beach yesterday…), stonechat at Kilminning and a pied wagtail on the beach at Sauchope. Pied wagtails were bizarrely scarce yesterday – they seem to disappear in early January and I have missed them in other New Year’s Day races. I really looked hard yesterday, and this morning I could only find the one. Where have they gone? I also tried to get common snipe which I missed at Carnbee yesterday. There are always a few along the edge of the reservoir but I couldn’t find one. Those marshy fields again. Practically the whole world is snipe habitat just now so there is no need for them to be concentrated in the usual, wet places. Anyway, I tried the damp asparagus fields at Balcomie with no luck this morning, but I was rewarded with 102 twite – one of the largest flocks I have found on the Crail patch – to add to the year list. There may have been more. My count was after a female merlin flew through the area carrying prey, which it might have just caught. A lot of the finches flew off high towards the golf course in response before I could check whether they were linnets or twite.
The surprisingly elusive pied wagtail, making it 90 for the Crail year list by lunchtime today (John Anderson)
Wild Crail 