Birdwatcher’s Diary No.121

Published on: 22 Oct, 2016
Updated on: 22 Oct, 2016

By Malcolm Fincham

Taking advantage of the autumn sun as it continued to shine, we entered the first weeks of October. A last-minute decision was made to take a break to Rye Harbour, East Sussex.

A new day dawns at Rye.

Although just a few hours away from home, for my wife and I, it was a new adventure. ‘Slumming it’, as one might say, in what turned out to be quite a cosy caravan site, just yards away (conveniently) from the nature reserve there. Early morning walks were on the daily menu, up in time to walk out the door and take just a few steps to welcome the sun as it rose, while I walked around Rye Harbour Nature Reserve.

Wigeon in flight.

An autumnal, awareness of coolness could be felt there in the early morning air and with, at times, a keen breeze from the east. Out on the reserve, recent arrivals of wintering wigeon could be viewed.

Cormorant flies in.

Cormorants gathered on a raft, catching a photo of one as it flew in to join its pals.

Little grebe or dabchick.

Small groups of dabchicks fished independently in the shallow waters.

Drake and duck gadwall.

Several gadwall ducks, monogamous by nature, could be seen mostly in pairs, dabbling, often with their bottoms in the air as they feed on the vegetation just below the surface of the water. Often, these birds will pair up four to five months before their breeding season.

Greylag geese.

Flying over the reserve at at both dusk and dawn were small skeins of Canada geese, while a group of greylag dropped in. Landing on one of the islands to graze by the waters edge.

Bar-tailed godwit.

Also picking out a lone bar-tailed godwit as well as several black-tailed godwits too.

Distinguishing between the two godwits, shape and structure come into play. Bar-tailed is a shorter-necked, shorter-legged and stockier-looking bird than black-tailed, with an upward curvature to the bill that is visible in closer views.

Black-tailed godwit.

Black-tailed is much more elegant, being longer-billed and longer-legged.

To separate them in winter plumage, one needs to look first at their upperpart patterning: black-tailed is uniformly plain smoky grey, whereas bar-tailed has strongly variegated upperparts with prominent pale feather fringes. (It is always useful to think of bar-tailed as having upperparts like a curlew.) Bar-tailed also shows a longer, more prominent supercilium.

Curlew.

Conveniently, a curlew was also nearby to help assist with such comparisons.

Redshank.

While a few redshanks wandered and probed the mudflats.

Little ringed plover.

As the tide in the estuary ebbed, little ringed plovers, recognised best by their golden eye rings, fed on invertebrates that had been left behind.

Turnstone.

Alongside the a few turnstones joined in, sifting through the pebbles, turning them over, as their name suggests.

Dunlins in flight.

Along with dunlins, which were more skittish, often taking flight in a small flock.

Surprisingly, perhaps by some, for me the most entertaining were the herring gulls there. Taking advantage of the low tide, a few of those, often cursed little souls, had evolved in their intellect. Plucking muscles from the estuary walls, they took flight back to dry land.

Gull takes aim as it hovers.

Hovering high above the footpath they would choose their moment.

The food is released.

Releasing them from their beaks at a suitable hight so as to crack them open on the tarmac below. Swooping down to eat the contents inside.

Gulls making off with the spoils.

Occasionally, to my amusement, a young gull would lurk on the ground, snatching the spoils and making off.

Goldfinches.

Back on the main part of the reserve, goldfinches gathered in a large flock of more than 100 birds.

Linnets gather.

Linnets, in a similar sized grou,p joined in feeding on seed heads of thistles.

Reed bunting.

Seen along with a few reed buntings.

Stonechat.

As well as numerous stonechats.

Meadow pipit.

While groups of meadow pipits merged in with the undergrowth.

Wheatear.

Catching the sight of several wheatears was an added bonus too, with one in particular very confiding. Posing for a few close up pictures, soon to head for its winter stay in Africa.

Swallow.

And a few stragglers in the way of swallows were still passing through.

Just a few miles down the road from Rye Harbour, across the border in Kent, lies Dungeness.

Memories of an arcadian flycatcher previously at Dungeness on a wet day.

Having only visited it once before in recent years to ‘twitch’ an Acadian flycatcher, on what was a memorable, drab and drizzly day. Although breezy this time, it was a certainly more hospitable on this occasion.

The bleak landscape at Dungeness.

Despite being classed as the UK’s only desert, it has quite a fascinating uniqueness about it, with its flat and barren landscape, and a few inhabited (and uninhabited) buildings randomly placed around it.

Dungeness power station.

Also possessing its very own nuclear power station!

Close by is the RSPB Nature Reserve with pleasant and helpful members of staff running the visitors centre there.

Fox relieving itself!

Entering the reserve, we had to drive a little distance along a track that led to the car park, my wife pointed out a fox hidden in the undergrowth. Stopping to watch it for a while and hoping to get a decent photo, it decided to squat and relieve itself.

Glossy ibis.

Adding to the usual ‘suspects’ there, my best sightings of the day included a glossy ibis that was residing there.

Male southern hawker dragonfly.

Although the feel of the October sunshine was noticeably weakening, it was still warm enough for a few dragonflies to challenge my ID abilities.

Female southern hawker dragonfly.

Including two of which I’m guessing to be male and female southern hawkers.

A host of golden plovers glistening in the sunshine.

Looking out from one of the hides at what is known as the Arc, on another part of the reserve, among the various waders there was a host of golden plovers.

Grey plover.

Also picking out a few grey plovers.

Little egrets and great white egrets.

Across the far side of the lagoon alongside a few little egrets, I counted at least eight great white egrets along the far bank.

Distant view of the Isle of Sheppy bridge.

Having only just visited the Isle of Sheppey during my last report, and although not visiting the yellow-tailed scorpions on this occasion it was a pleasant change to see the island by daylight.

Usually visiting the island in mid-winter, it was most unusual not to feel the icy breezes that blows across this mostly flat and empty landscape on this, usually bleak island.

Teal.

Winter waders and wildfowl had already started growing in numbers there. Both teal and wigeon were abundant, as they dabbled together out on the pools.

Common snipe.

Common snipe, as always, were not so easy to spot in their camouflaged outfits. Often overlooked until taking flight.

Lapwings.

Lapwings were abundant but appeared more nervous about the various birds of prey that patrolled the area. Often the first to take to the air at the hint of sighting a raptor.

Marsh harrier.

Marsh harriers are a common sight there, often seen flying low across the landscape, looking to pick off an unsuspecting meal.

Peregrine.

Another bird of prey they need to be vigilant of there is the peregrine. Known historically as the ‘duck hawk’ in North America. Formidable hunters that prey on other birds hitting them mid-flight, peregrines hunt from above and, after sighting their prey, drop into a steep, swift dive that can top 200 miles an hour.

Geese in flight with perhaps a snow goose?

Distant to the eye, were large flocks of geese including a white looking one. A snow goose perhaps?

Sunset at Rye Harbour.

So as the sun set on our enjoyable, relaxing break we made our way home.

Despite hopes of picking out one of the many ring ouzels and yellow-browed warblers passing through the southern counties during the first weeks of October, both while we were away, and on our return I fell dismally short on setting eyes on either.

Ring Ouzel pictured by James Sellen at the Devil’s Punchbowl.

However, I am pleased for fellow local wildlife photographer James Sellen, for at least catching up with some ring ouzels that had made a brief stop at the Devil’s Punchbowl.

Ring ouzels as photographed by James Sellen.

He has kindly allowed me to show a few of the pictures he took as they stopped off to feed on berries before continuing their journey south.

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