·
Many of these initial pieces result from exploring the low-lying
areas between Bristol and the Severn Estuary – apparently blighted by motorways
and industry, yet full of charm and interest when exploring by foot... ‘Rhines’
are the little man-made drainage rivers
that criss-cross these areas.
·
Another place frequently mentioned is Upton upon Severn, 50 miles
north of Bristol. A family member has bought a riverside cabin there, where I can
now go and stay, walk, swim and paint and
meditate on watery things...
·
Another newcomer is the Pilning Wetlands – newly-matured lagoons
behind the New Passage salt marsh and estuary area just west of Bristol, the
variety of habitats providingreat bird-watching.
 |
| New Passage, view towards old Severn Bridge. By Mrs Trellis |
January
 | |||||
| Almondsbury by L Pryce |
Winter thrushes
How
exciting it is on a brilliant winter’s day to walk along a quiet lane with big
hedgerows each side, and with every step disturb 5 or 10 redwings who fly
forward before flipping over into the adjoining fields to join their friends –
the sense of verve and vivid life lurking all around...
MoD path
I
returned to a path alongside the big Filton Ministry of Defense site, whose
impressive hedgerows had been so thick with native fruits and berries earlier
this autumn. What a change! All picked bare except for a very few dog rose,
privet and guelder rose berries, and alder and ash fruits above. Goldfinches
and the ubiquitous redwings in the thickets, and a coal tit. The bare branches
revealed many nests, large and small, tucked inside.
Winter gnats
A few weeks ago I had seen with
surprise a swarm of quite large gnat-like insects hovering over a damp ditch area by a
country path- it seemed too cold for this summery display. I asked an
entomologist colleague who said they would be a species of winter gnat, and
that as these seemed to be becoming more common they may be a factor in such warblers
a chiffchaff managing to overwinter. I hadn’t previously consciously seen or
even heard of winter gnats! Another insect enthusiast wrote, ‘If you have a
compost heap in your garden you probably have your own home grown winter gnats.
I think the interesting synchronised "up and down" waves you
get in the swarms are the males in a "lek"’ – swarming to
attract the females.
 |
| Lawrence Weston. By Stephen Burns |
Does anyone have any direct
experience of Lawrence Weston Moor? I was exploring there yesterday and was
very struck by its unspoilt beauty – though blighted by traffic roar from the
adjacent motorways, it's far enough from the housing area to remain unblighted
by casual litter and dog s**t as the nearer open spaces were. Of course it was very
wet (this was during the catastrophically
wet winter of 2013/2014) but then it's a moor and always meant to be a bit
wet... ! I subsequently researched the area online and found it was '...one of
the few remaining fragments of the marshes which used to stretch all the way
from Blaise Castle to Avonmouth as part of the North Somerset Levels', jointly
managed by the city council and local wildlife trusts, and deemed to be full of
interesting plants and wildlife, including little owls and snipe.
 |
| LW Moor. By Sharon Loxton |
February
A feeding frenzy at Aust Wharf
 |
| Short-eared Owl. By Alan Chard |
I was inspired by a
colleague Dave’s description of extraordinary scenes at Aust Wharf on the
Severn Estuary, caused by exceptionally high tides coming over salt marsh,
reedbeds and the access road and forcing a flood of small mammals onto higher
ground, accompanied by a feeding frenzy of short-eared owls and gulls. On the
following day I went there myself to
catch the start of the next high tide, when the sea came up and flooded the
road again to up to a foot deep. Two short-eared owls appeared at each end of
the marsh – it had been a while since I last saw one and I had forgotten how
lovely they are with their magnificent colours and markings and bullet-round
heads. The
owl at the north end flew out over the estuary with a gang of black-headed
gulls (all beautifully framed with the old Severn Bridge behind) – and I
couldn't see why until I realised that the gulls were mobbing it. Then I realised
the gulls were mobbing everything, including crows and a little egret
that flew by, to drive them away from the mice and voles below. I hadn't
realised until then that black-headed
gulls even eat small mammals (I tend to think of them as rather cute and benign!),
but it was quite a killing field across that salt marsh. However I didn’t
experience the full 'exodus of the voles' as described by Dave (perhaps those
that had survived from the day before had stayed up in the higher fields) and I
saw just one large rat swimming across the road to safety. Still, an
experience!
 |
| Gull eats vole. By Hilary Kington |
A Red-flanked Bluetail
 |
| Red-flanked Bluetail. By Ian Stapp |
I was
taken to see a rarity at Marshfield today: a Red-flanked Bluetail - a pretty
confiding little robin-like bird that has been blown off-course and has made a
temporary home in sheltered hedgerow by a stream. The stream valley was
swarming with twitchers (bird-watchers
who concentrate on rarities often to the detriment of everything else) and oversized
cameras, and as usual my main feeling was of pity for the little creature so
far from its proper habitat, and its probable rather grim or at least lonely
future. However a Bristol Wildlife member said, ‘Actually it could be closer to its
"home" than it should be: it is clear that the massive increase in British
records correlates with the westward expansion of its range, so the probability
is that this bird originates from the boreal forests of Finland or west Russia.
Were it in the traditional wintering location for west Siberian birds it would
be in the Indian Subcontinent somewhere. So it has a shorter journey home than
it might.’
 |
| Greater Flamingos. By Peter Wilton |
I
recently visited the salt lakes of Larnaka on Cyprus’ south coast. Extensive
lagoons fed by sea water oozing through
intervening sand dunes, they are home to a salt-loving red algae which are
then food for brine shrimp. In turn flamingos come here to overwinter and eat
the shrimps. The lakes are shallow, still and very clear, and the few score of
flamingos made a most beautiful picture standing and wading in their stately
way with a perfect mirror image reflected below them - pink plumage against
blue sky. Very different from the images I’ve seen on TV of thousands of them splashing
in opaque African soda lakes.
 |
| Frogspawn. By David Baird |
A friend has two small pools in her
city-centre back garden, which would normally be full of frog-spawn by this
date; however this year spawn seemed to be either late or missing altogether. A
wildlife colleague sent her this intriguing insight: ‘I just attended a talk by
a member of the Reptile and Amphibians Conservation Trust, and put your frog-spawn
question to him. Apparently the late date this year is down to the very wet winter:
normally the frogs sense a volatile oil given off by algae which attract them
to the pond to breed. However the algae levels have been very low this year due
to dispersion by high water levels,
hence very little spawn until this week… amazing!’
March
 |
| Early Spring in Gordano Valley, Bristol. By Lois Pryce |
Coot ‘Lek’
 |
| Fighting Coots. By Tony Hisgett |
A bird
walk at Portbury Wharf nature reserve today witnessed a sight that even
experienced birders said they hadn’t seen before. On the more inland lake, four
male coots were all displaying vigorously to each other with wings puffed up,
swan-like – like little black Sidney Opera Houses! Then a furious fight would
break out between a pair, with their long green feet brought up to press hard
against the opponent’s chest, and in extreme cases the loser forced head down
into the water and the opponent apparently trying to drown him. Then back to
more displaying... still continuing after about twenty minutes watching. Even
by coots’ quarrelsome standards, this was extreme!
(Lek: a gathering of males in one spot for competitive
fights & mating displays to impress the watching females...)
Early spring in the Gordano Valley (marsh levels just south of Bristol)
 |
| Lesser Celandines. By Chris Reynolds |
A
variety of flies were loving the newly-emerging Alexander flower heads.
There were spectacular banks of Lesser Celandine with their shining yellow flowers. Because some flowers looked unusually large, I counted petal numbers and see online that these can vary from between seven and twelve - which makes a big difference to the flower’s appearance. Surely unusual in plants to have such a variation?
There were spectacular banks of Lesser Celandine with their shining yellow flowers. Because some flowers looked unusually large, I counted petal numbers and see online that these can vary from between seven and twelve - which makes a big difference to the flower’s appearance. Surely unusual in plants to have such a variation?
Local jackdaws
Yesterday
a pair of jackdaws were in my back garden vegetable plot, enthusiastically
tearing large bits off the agricultural fleece covering some seedlings - so
enthusiastically that I protected it with netting, but laid out more for them
to ravage as they wish – they seem to love it for their nests.
Later, sitting in my stationary car out front I watched a jackdaw drop in quite a strong wind from about 25 feet up. It was a perfectly controlled vertical drop with its legs hung down the whole way - it looked like a little person parachuting...
Later, sitting in my stationary car out front I watched a jackdaw drop in quite a strong wind from about 25 feet up. It was a perfectly controlled vertical drop with its legs hung down the whole way - it looked like a little person parachuting...
Merlin at Goldcliff Wetlands Reserve, Newport
 |
| Merlin. By Mrs Trellis |
At a wetlands
reserve yesterday I saw my first ever Merlin. It did a sparrowhawk-type low
stealth swoop over an embankment and across the lagoons, and later was seen
about 40 foot high giving full-on horizontal chase to a chaffinch, and gaining.
I have never seen a bird of prey run down another bird in this way – scarily
impressive.
(Merlins – the smallest British birds of prey. They
are the only ones to give chase horizontally and run down other birds through
sheer speed; rather than dropping from above or using other ‘stealth’ moves)
Pied Wagtails in
City Centre
On a recent trip into the middle of Bristol, I
observed a pied wagtail roost accumulating in the City Centre as dusk fell. Pretty
much ignored by all the people hurrying home after work, swathe after swathe of the little birds flew
in low from roof-top levels and started settling into the branches of the large
plane trees that grow in the central pedestrian islands. It’s such a pretty
sight, and one that happens in many a modern urban area – pied wagtails seem to
love lights, paving and people!
April
Nuthatches & squirrels
 |
| Nuthatch. By Katie Horrocks |
Two
friends have a chalet at Cadbury Camp with a picture view down steep wooded
slopes. One of the nearest tall pine trees has a nest box on it, with an
entrance hole designed for blue tits but which they recently enlarged, as the
tits ignored it and nuthatches kept trying to get in. Yesterday we watched a
nuthatch pair busily go to and fro to the box, bringing old beech leaves and
pieces of bark torn from a nearby pine (I see from online information that this
is their main nesting material - and it looks rather uncomfortable...).
About 15 feet above on the same tree was a grey squirrel drey (nest) with a family in it. We watched one family member tearing fibres from the thick vines wrapping the tree, to take up to it; and then two or three of the squirrels come down, sit on the nest box roof, hang underneath it, and try to poke their 'fingers' into it. Are the nuthatches so confident of being safe in their new home, that they can ignore the threat of these nosy squirrels?
About 15 feet above on the same tree was a grey squirrel drey (nest) with a family in it. We watched one family member tearing fibres from the thick vines wrapping the tree, to take up to it; and then two or three of the squirrels come down, sit on the nest box roof, hang underneath it, and try to poke their 'fingers' into it. Are the nuthatches so confident of being safe in their new home, that they can ignore the threat of these nosy squirrels?
Local jackdaws
It is interesting
to watch how our local jackdaws have gradually changed their ways... Over a
decade ago they began living and nesting on the roofs down our street, and
until a few years ago they were too timid to visit street level or back gardens,
let alone when humans were present. Then they began to land on fences, look out
carefully for many minutes, and then perhaps make an extremely brief dash to
pick up some food or nesting material before flying immediately away. But just
now I was bent down planting some seedlings, and only a few feet behind me a
pair of them landed and were busy foraging in the lawn, bold as brass. Such
caution must be a strong evolutionary habit that no doubt has served them well.
Horse chestnuts...
 |
| Flowering chestnuts By David Hawgood |
After the wet
spring, the horse chestnut trees were very advanced this year – fully leaved by
the end of March - ahead of all other trees - with their flower candles showing
in early April and fully out a fortnight later.
...& plantains
It’s also been a
wonderful spring for plantains (the small generally inconspicuous weedy plantago
family – nothing to do with the tropical banana!): meadows and roadsides are swathed
with their nodding dark reddish candle heads.
 |
| Flowering plantains. By Kurt Steuber |
‘The reproductive imperative’ around Newton St Loe
Spring urges were
evident in meadows, fields and hedgerows round this village near Bath,
including a chaffinch pair mating in a blossoming apple tree, a crow pair
changing over sitting-duty at their nest with loving bill caresses, and a yellowhammer
pair sat in a shrub with downy nesting material visible in the female’s bill...
‘My’ blackbird
I often wrote about 'my' blackbird and his
distinctive song motif, returning to our garden area year after year. Then
about three years ago I didn't hear him there, and then briefly heard him on
the other side of the road as though he had been deposed. Then nothing for two
years and I thought that was the end of him.
But he's back, and back in his old spot! So
amazing to be hearing his little tune - inventively modified as it always was
every year, but distinctively his. It had always surprised me that other people
didn't respond about 'their' blackbirds whom they could recognise by song; and
surely there was a little scientific study to be done here?
 |
Blackbird's song transcription, by Heinz Tiesses |
Then a friend sent me details of a research paper, ‘The
development of song in the Blackbird’ by Joan Hall-Craggs.
I so recognised the different song developments, and felt relieved that I
hadn’t been wandering in a mad world of my own! For other birdy nerds, her
summary is below (how provocative is her final sentence!):
‘An analysis is
made of the song of one wild Blackbird in 1957 in south Oxfordshire. Sample
recordings were made throughout the song period, and methods of analysis are
described. The composition of the song at the beginning of the season is
described. Reference is made to the “practising” habit, to the early formation
of compound phrases and to a tendency to use certain phrases in particular
contexts.26 phrases, used at the outset of the season, constituted a basis upon
which the developed forms were built. Five means of treating existing phrases
were found: (1) whole phrases and extracts from phrases were combined to form
new phrases; (2) new material was added to existing phrases; (3) notes
contained within the phrase were repeated; (4) new terminal decorations were
added to phrases; (5) phrase contraction by the omission of notes occurred. Phrases
were organized into recurring series, many of which became permanent. Such
organization of the song phrases, and the creation and extension of compound
phrases, continued throughout the season. The influence of terminal decorations
upon phrase order. It was found that an increase in frequency of occurrence of
developed forms was usually balanced by a corresponding decrease in the use of
the phrases from which they were derived. Certain highly developed forms were
used much more frequently than their related basic phrases. Infrequently used
developed forms appeared to be of transitional character, while those that were
not retained were replaced by new forms. The response to the song of another
Blackbird is described. Counter singing, communal singing and antiphonal
singing by the two birds were recorded. The scolding “churr” of a Blue Tit was
copied and retained as a terminal decoration to a phrase. The mature song
presented a distinct contrast to the early song. Manipulation of material
rather than material as such was responsible for the song development. It is
suggested that deliberate selection of material occurred. The song is discussed
as a functional and an aesthetic activity and an attempt is made to correlate
the two aspects.’
May
Swifts in Dubrovnik
 |
| Alpine Swifts. By Richard Crossley |
I just returned
from an unexpected short trip to Dubrovnik, staying in an attic room high up in
the Old Town. Every late afternoon large parties of swifts gathered to sing and
circle across the city roofs, a fabulous sight and sound (apparently the city
is famous for its swifts), with the Common and Alpine forming two separate
groups singing contrapuntally. I hadn’t viewed Alpine swifts before with their
white fronts, larger size and more stately, straightforward flight without the
Common’s jinking; and enjoyed their sharp chattering vocalisations that sounded
like bat calls translated through a bat detector. As they cruised past the
attic windows, they looked strangely like penguins swimming underwater, making
one feel momentarily that one was in the ocean depths...
Glamourous moth
 |
| Juniper Ermine Moth. By Entomart |
I just looked up a
moth reported by a wildlife colleague - the Argyresthia trifasciata (Juniper Ermine Moth). What a
stunning little insect - gold and silver stripes, the glamour!
Swallow at Southstoke
...we watched a swallow
sitting on a tree twig, reminding us
that they must have perched somewhere before mankind and his invention
of roof ridges, fences and telegraph lines!
House Martins
 |
| House Martins. By Ian Wilson |
At Sea Mills today
I watched house martins gathering mud on the Avon river banks, to construct
their nests under the eaves of the adjacent railway station building. As they
perched briefly and delicately to pick beakfuls from the oozy slopes, I realised
I hadn't previously appreciated the beautiful blue iridescence that mantles
their shoulder feathers - perhaps it is phenomenon that is only visible in
certain lights?
Sedge Warbler
 |
| Sedge Warbler. By Ken Billington |
Raw nature
Along a main road
in one of the smartest suburbs of Bristol today, I watched a crow tearing into a
grey squirrel corpse lying on the pavement. This piece of raw nature looked quite
out of place in such a genteel area...
Nursery colours
I like the
children’s nursery quality of hedgerows at the moment: the white froth of cow
parsley, weedy blue forget-me-nots, the brilliant brazen blue of green alkanet,
innocent pink of red campion and herb robert, all punctuated with glossy yellow
buttercups.
Young feeding waders
 |
| Avocets. Gill Sapsed |
On a recent trip
to the Goldcliff Newport Wetlands, I enjoyed seeing how the young avocets waded
and swept the shallows with their bills and the young redshanks poked the edges
for food, already in perfect mimicry of their elders.
This year seems a
very good one for common vetch (which I
understand is generally not that
common). At the pools it is everywhere, even forming drifts in places, with its
small but intensely magenta ones- or twos- of open flowers powerfully
attracting the eye.
 |
| Common Vetch. By Derek Harper |
June
Iceland
In early June I went with a group from the Bristol
Ornithological Club to Iceland for a week. We stayed in the whale-watching town
of Husavik on the north coast, inland by
Lake Myvatn, famous for its flies and breeding birds, and finally near the
famous Blue Lagoon, south of Reykjavik.
General impressions:
Landscapes dominated by flat lava fields with huge dark snow-topped escarpments
rearing up behind, and fantastical rounded black-and-white patterning from
melting snow banks – oddly echoing the patterns of such local creatures as the
Barrow’s Goldeneye, Harlequin Ducks, and Orca Whales. Green valleys with
bounding meltwater rivers curving through them. Swathes of bright blue lupins
and bright yellow dandelions. Wooded areas of poplar, birch and willow, with
dwarf birch and willow amongst the lava. Thinly spread population in
bright-coloured houses, and masses of wilderness. Fearless Snipe and Whimbrel
displaying on posts and the wing; Arctic Skuas agiley wheeling. A background of
Snipe drumming, Whimbrel calling curlew-like, and Redwings singing like sedge
warblers. Golden Plovers on meadows, showing their dark fronts and backs
mantled with spotted gold. Tiny, beautiful, agile Red-necked Phalaropes
darting
about on pools. Longtailed Ducks quarrelling and making their dolorous ‘old
lady gossiping’ calls. Barrow’s Goldeneye large and smart in spotted black and
white.
 |
| Barrows Goldeneye By Julie Evans |
Nights
that never got dark or even dusky.
The Myvatn
hotel had its own birds: a Redwings’ nest on the fire escape with four
nestlings who fledged while we were there; a White Wagtail pair with a possible
nest in the shop eaves; and a pair of Snow Buntings, the male singing
beautifully ‘with crystal timbre’ each morning from the rooftop aerial.
 |
| Flies on hotel windowsill... |
Some members went
a few miles west to where the Laxa river bounds joyfully out of the main lake –
perfect Harlequin Duck territory (Iceland is one of their main homes). We sat
on kingcup-strewn banks to watch five gorgeously-plumaged males chasing a
couple of females through the white water – swimming furiously, flying, diving
or scrambling overland, whatever worked to navigate the river falls.
 |
| Harlequin Ducks. By Julie Evans |
Having yet again
missed the Puffins seen by our group who went whale-watching in Husavik - north
of Husavik I had my first proper, though brief, Puffin encounter. High cliffs
housed hundreds of nesting Fulmars, loving couples and attentive parents whose
eggs we could see every now and then as they stood to turn on their nests.
Below them on the sea were great rafts of Puffins, too distant for me to see
properly. But every now and then one would fly up to the cliffs and perch: so
cute and characterful! So upright and colourful! Truly our own northern
penguin.
 |
| The Blue Lagoon |
Iceland ice
For
many years I have been profoundly drawn to the extraordinary colours of thick
or old ice – those burning blues and
greens seen in deep crevices and icebergs in Antarctica and other far-off
places. I had resigned myself to not making a trip to the former – the cost,
the long journey, the seasickness, the bucket-list indulgence of it – and to
probably never seeing those colours with my own eyes. I contented myself with
TV and attending wilderness lectures by polar explorers.
However
in Iceland I had two tiny but perfect and unexpected experiences for myself.
The first was visiting a small river crossing an unpaved road near Dettafoss
waterfall. Its modest banks still held the odd snowbank – something we had seen
everywhere we’d travelled, even quite low down. But for some reason this one
had a deep crack in it – and it glowed a brilliant bright ice green.
The
second was flying back home south-west across Iceland and crossing high
wilderness with mighty icecaps. Here on these almost inaccessible tops, snow
was melting into small lakes of an unearthly clear light bright turquoise blue.
Just
those two small experiences have slaked my thirst for ice colours...
Three little Iceland plants
We encountered
three fascinating little plants in Iceland:
Butterwort: At first glance looking very like a clump of violets
on the edge of a stream, this pretty little plant is actually a carnivore. Glands on the rosette of leaves attract then
trap and digest insects, whose struggles trigger the leaf edges to roll inwards.
Common Moonwort: A most extraordinary-looking little fern, unlike any
other plant, with its fleshy green
grapelet flower-stem enclosed in a ‘leaf’
made up of fan- (half-moon-) shaped leaflets. Rare in Great Britain,
particularly the south, we came across great numbers of them growing straight out
of rocky inhospitable sea-side lava fields. It is supposed to have magical /
alchemical properties...
 |
| Moonwort. ByJason Hollinger |
Sea Pea: A pretty little pea plant with bright purple flowers that sprawls on or
near shingle beaches. Its life strategy turns apparent difficulties into
advantages: its seeds can survive up to five years immersion in sea water, and
then need the scouring effects of wave erosion to trigger germination. So it
scatters its seeds where the tide can reach them and take them out to faraway
places – and then ensure they flourish as they are cast back on another shore.
Brilliant!
 |
| Meadow Vetchling. By Sannse |
We saw more
gorgeous vetches in the Portbury Wharf nature reserve by the Severn Estuary:
bright yellow Meadow Vetchling, intense magenta single flowers of Grass
Vetchling, magenta Common Vetch, purplish Tufted Vetch, and masses of tiny pale
flowers of Hairy Tare.
July
Bird feast
Yesterday our
neighbours strimmed their back yard which had become very overgrown. When it
was shorn it was immediately invaded by a great crowd of sparrows and
starlings, including youngsters, who began pulling out an apparently
inexhaustible number of invertebrates exposed in the short grass and piles of
hay. It was like a smaller, slower version of the small mammals massacres at
extra-high tides seen along the Severn Estuary at the start of this year, or the
description (by a Bristol Wildlife
member) of more small mammal carnage at haymaking time on Lansdown
Battlefields above Bath...
Flowers at Lamplighters Nature Reserve
 |
| Moth mullein. By SPHL |
Lamplighters is a
small urban nature reserve on an old industrial site along the mouth of the
River Avon and in the shadow of a motorway flyover. Its industrial legacy
encourages some unusual plant species. Visiting it yesterday I found:
- All together in the gravelly areas, an
eccentric mix: viper's bugloss, white moth mullein, evening primrose, great
mullein, English stonecrop, St John's Wort, teasles, all in with the buddleia
which sprawls everywhere.
- Down the path: yellow vetch, tufted vetch, swathes of narrow-leaved everlasting pea and a yellow melilot, hedgerow cranesbill, wild marjoram, rosebay willowherb. The everlasting pea is an extraordinary colour - a combined but slightly muted salmon / shocking pink with details of brown-purple.
- Down the path: yellow vetch, tufted vetch, swathes of narrow-leaved everlasting pea and a yellow melilot, hedgerow cranesbill, wild marjoram, rosebay willowherb. The everlasting pea is an extraordinary colour - a combined but slightly muted salmon / shocking pink with details of brown-purple.
A botanist
colleague commented: ‘Brilliant mix - "Early Successional" habitat are great for
flowers and
invertebrates. Moth Mullein (Verbascum blattaria) is a good find,
it isn't a common plant at all.’ Another added, ‘Moth Mullein is persistent on railway land in urban
Bristol and I've never seen it anywhere else so this is a good record! Love
Vipers Bugloss too.’
 |
| Everlasting pea. ByAnneli Salo |
A short time later
at Pendower Beach east of Falmouth, Cornwall, I also saw Dark Mullein on the
dunes behind the beach – with flowers similar to Moth Mullein but absolutely
crammed up a tall stem, and with large soft leaves. They are both very striking
and lovely with dark hearts to their flowers.
More Cornish flowers
- Marsh woundwort,
Porthcothan marshes – mid-pink flowers.
 |
| Pink purslane. By Roger Griffith |
- Wall
pennywort/navelwort everywhere in Cornish hedges – tall spikes of pale flowers.
- Pink purslane (Claytonia
sibirica), scrambling along shady Pendower coast path hedgerows. Bright green shiny leaves and stems with pale
pink veined flowers – ‘very local to damp spots in Devon and Cornwall, not
native but very pretty’ said the botanist who identified it for me.
-
Hare’s foot clover in the fields along the coast path to Nare’s Head – long,
soft, pale pink and fluffy!
Road kill
 |
| Stoat. By Tony Wood |
Road kill seen on
the roads between Cornwall and here: many young rabbits, a grey squirrel flat
on its face, a hedgehog, wood pigeons. But avoiding such a fate: a stoat
successfully racing across the last lane of the extremely busy A30 four-lane
carriageway near Bodwin, having presumably already navigated the other three
lanes - woaaa!!
Cowrie shell
I found a small cowrie shell on
Pendower Beach, Cornwall and asked, ‘Can anyone indicate how rare this is? As a
child we used to vist a remote beach east of Rotheneuf (east of St Malo on the
Brittany/Normandy coast), where there were many larger cowries, as well as
those long cone shells that look like unicorn horns. So if a tropical current
could make it there, I suppose it's not so unlikely it can make it to Cornwall
- though I can't remember ever having picked one up in Britain before.’
 |
| Live Cowrie. By Christopher Meyer |
Colleagues replied: ‘There are two
species of cowrie native to the British Isles: Trivia arctica and Trivia
monacha. Both are widespread around our coasts but being small are
often overlooked.’ ‘I don't think they are uncommon on full salinity rocky
coasts where there are Ascidians to feed on, but they only occur sub-tidally.
I've picked up Cowrie shells on the north Welsh Coast Hebrides. I've actually seen a live
Spotted Cowrie (Trivia monarcha)
in west Wales when we there has been a very low spring tide.’
I replied, ‘I am a
bit stunned by your replies (apart from losing my dream of the Gulf Stream
bringing up exotica from tropical climes...). Firstly I have never heard that
there are British cowries. Secondly, I have been quite an inveterate
beachcomber all my life and round lots of Great Britain's beaches, yet till now
that Normandy beach was the only place I'd seen cowries till the Pendower one
(which is only about 7mm long and has 3 spots down its back). So if they're
that common, where are the shells going? Even if they live subtidally, the
shells should still wash up.’ The answer seems to be that being so small and
living sub-tidally, their shells are swiftly eroded away...
Oldbury Power Station – Berkeley
 |
| Strawberry clover. By Christian Fischer |
On a hot day walking along the Severn Estuary and
inland between the two power stations, we saw much bird and insect life...
On a farm pond we surprised three young moorhens who
jumped onto the low branches of an overhanging hawthorne and balanced there,
before scuttling into hiding behind.
Of
butterflies we saw marbled whites, meadow browns, gatekeepers, ringlets, blues,
small tortoiseshells, comma, peacocks, whites; and small orangey ones that I
never get a proper look at… Two male Emperor dragonflies were guarding and
duelling on a farm pond.
Inland in Berkeley town, scores of swifts, house martins and swallows were flying and vocalizing; and wherever there were farms with barns, scores of swallows were also sitting on lines and 'conversing' as they begin to do as they think about migration...
Inland in Berkeley town, scores of swifts, house martins and swallows were flying and vocalizing; and wherever there were farms with barns, scores of swallows were also sitting on lines and 'conversing' as they begin to do as they think about migration...
On
the Severn Way embankment between Oldbury and Berkeley, Strawberry Clover grew.
This pink clover's flowers puff up when fruiting, so if you squeeze them they
feel just like little polystyrene puffs…
Gormless
 |
| A racing pigeon. By RATAEDL |
What appeared to be a young, certainly completely
gormless feral/racing pigeon landed on a rooflight just now. It kept pecking at
the glass, trying to climber up the glass and slipping back down (comical seen
from underneath), and opening its beak for a feeble call. It had a white band
on its left leg, orange on the right: was it a racer escaped or let out
prematurely?
A colleague
replied, ‘Some
years back we had a racing pigeon that roosted on my bedroom window sill, and
once got into my room and slept on a bookshelf ( much s**t…). This was just
after a huge thunderstorm which I assume had disorientated the bird. Anyway,
from his ring number and an address stamped on his primaries (main wing feathers) a local contact
picked him up and said he would release him with his next flight, and maybe
this fine-looking pigeon would finally get back to Manchester (northern England) and his owner. Curious
about the bird’s origins, I checked out some Ordinance Survey (map) sheets and found some quite
startling similarities between the river shape and general topography local to
me, and that of his Northern home…’ -
migrating birds are supposed to use topography as well as sun, internal compass
and star constellations, to guide them…
New Passage - Pilning Wetland
 |
| Small Tortoiseshell. By John Haslam |
Down the side lane that accesses the pools away from
estuary – thistles in the hedges are bearing huge amounts of thistledown that
were full of goldfinches. There were many beautiful butterflies including comma, peacock, gatekeepers, small copper,
whites, speckled wood, meadow browns. One brand-new-looking small tortoiseshell
sunning on the ground – looking close up I could admire its patterning
including the lovely blue scalloping round the lower wing edges. Of flower there
were fleabane, marsh woundwort, and field milk-thistle - that plant with the exuberantly
big raggy yellow flowers.
To access the lane one had to pass close to an
extremely large bull roaming free on the saltmarsh amongst his wives and calves
– a happy but unnerving sight!
August
Kingfisher pair
 |
| Kingfisher. By David Hughes |
I was having an early morning swim in the River Severn
above Upton yesterday. A kingfisher flew within a couple of feet of my nose,
perched, then came back and circled round me. It interacted with another
kingfisher who also came and circled round me. Then they perched together by
the mouth of a small stream entering the main river.
My guess is they might have had a nest site there and were checking if I was a giant otter or similar hazard...
My guess is they might have had a nest site there and were checking if I was a giant otter or similar hazard...
Young buzzard
Walking meadows in the source area of the River
Parrett in Dorset, I heard strange bird calls coming from a tall tree top – so
exotic they could almost have been a peacock. I eventually saw the source – a
young buzzard calling constantly and making short flights from its perch. It
had beautifully softly-coloured plumage of pale buff on a creamy yellow
background...
Walking the Parrett
 |
| River Parrett. By Rupert Fleetingly |
I finished walking the River Parrett this summer - this time I started at its source on a steep watershed surprisingly close to the English Channel in Dorset, and made my way back to Kingston Episcopi where I had previously walked from the mouth on the Bristol Channel. The Parrett Walk is sadly now very blocked and discontinuous in its upper half by irritated landowners, and I had to make many a detour. But what struck me profoundly was the geographical sense that, wherever the river was, there was always the lowest spot in the landscape and all water was flowing to it; and as I walked it I could develop and carry that landscape.Why was that so satisfying? - but it was.
September
Upton Spiders
The 1940s steel road bridge over the Severn at Upton
has separate pedestrian paths each side, divided from the road by a car-height
solid ribbed steel wall, with bulkhead lights at intervals in the ribbed
sections. Walking along one side at dusk last week, it was noticeable that
every lit alcove had a large population of big spiders and their webs, full of
the varied insect life of the river with ever more being attracted to the
lights; while the dark sections had few or none. A fascinating but somewhat
macabre sight for those like me who are frightened of spiders once they reach a
certain size...
Baby house
martin
 |
| Baby House Martin. By Mrs Trellis |
At Sea Mills Station on the River Avon this afternoon,
there was a still a house martin baby poking its head out of a nest under the station
eaves, calling and being fed. This is unusually late – but making up for
earlier hard times has been the story of this year!
Tickenham
On a bird walk on the north Somerset levels round
Tickenham, we saw something most unusual: corvids - mostly rooks - flying away
from the Tickenham Church area with something big and round in their beaks. It
turned out they were raiding a walnut tree just behind the church – and we all
wanted to know if they were going to try to open the nuts by dropping them from
a height, or getting traffic to break them by dropping them on roads, as these
clever species are known to do. And if so – where? – how interesting it would
be to observe such behaviour.
October, November
Weather report
 |
| Clouded Yellow. By Don Smith |
After our catastrophically wet winter and early
spring, with the beautiful Somerset Levels remaining flooded for months,
finally we started to have a fine spring and summer – and since then nature has
carried on later than usual as though to compensate. Some birds had multiple
broods with fledglings appearing in August or later; the autumn was unusually
warm with autumn colouring barely appearing by October; flowers continued to
bloom months beyond their usual season. And we continued to see butterflies and
dragonflies remarkably late – like this lovely Clouded Yellow…
Fields below Almondsbury
Walking below Almondsbury this mid afternoon, the
fields were full of restlessly moving bird flocks, including wood
pigeons, starlings, mixed flocks of rooks, jackdaws and crows, and gulls.
Groups of corvids came in to rest in a large ash tree that overarched the lane,
and a great spotted woodpecker persistently tried to perch just below them - and
was as persistently chased away... A lovely big sky of piercing blue, gold
cumulus and rainclouds, a big rainbow,
all across the levels to the Severn...
Gull skeleton
 |
| Bird skeleton. By Svtiste |
Today at New Passage, a large gull partial skeleton
was washed up on the Severn embankment, including the pelvis, breastbone and
wings. I was very struck by the size of the bones: for instance the wing
humerus was 15mm diameter, surely similar to the size of a largeish mammal's
bones like a medium-large dog?
In contrast I recently cooked a wild rabbit and its bones were incredibly fine - the ribs almost invisibly thin.
In contrast I recently cooked a wild rabbit and its bones were incredibly fine - the ribs almost invisibly thin.
A
colleague replied, ‘The crucial differences are the bone densities of the two
vertebrate groups. Many bird long bones are hollow strengthened by internal
cross struts, so even when the linear dimensions appear similar the overall
mass is greater in the mammal. I am now comparing a Hare skull with a Herring
Gull skull from my collection and the use of actual bone is very economical
with the use of struts and braces in the gull but a more solid regime in the
mammal even though at first glance they appear of a similar size – the gull is
noticeable lighter. Next time you are out, Lois, pick a fight with a Greater
Black Backed Gull and then soon after a similar sized dog: you should
find the bird easier to repel!’
Autumn beauties
 |
| Rose hips. By Olag |
True red: Walking within the Oldbury Power Station
reserve along the reed-beds a couple of days ago, individual briar bushes
stood up with their long curving ramblers full of hips. In the low autumn sun
the hips stood out as the most true brilliant red in an otherwise low-key
landscape - to which one’s eyes were irresistibly drawn.
Reed dance: Today at New Passage the reeds
along the Chestle Pill estuary were creating a beautiful dance – better than a
ballet. As the wind gently blew, one section flowed one way while another
behind flowed back again, and then behind were more contrapuntal flows… to
watch was soothing and mesmerizing.
I realised that I had written of a similar
experience some years ago – and that in itself is striking because it reveals
what a rare phenomenon this actually is. The West Country is full of reed-beds
and full of wind – but this is only the second time I have seen this perfectly
balanced contrapuntal dance where somehow the reeds become harmonically
entrained…
Cormorant &
eel
 |
| Cormorant & eel. By Tim Evanson |
Near sunset upstream from Sea Mills today, I watched a
cormorant diving and coming up with an eel. It flew to the mud banks, and then
as the eel writhed and twisted to escape, the bird constantly dropped it and
picked it up again for a firmer grip. Finally the eel must have slightly
slackened and in a flash the bird had it lengthways and had swallowed it . And
then - oh oh oh - I could SEE the eel writhing on its way down, bulging out the
bird's neck from the inside - not a sight I shall quickly forget.
First frost
 |
| A late Autumn. By Pete Coslett |
Ah, first frost. Up till now an unusual number of
common woodland and hedgerow trees and shrubs in more sheltered locations, have
been holding on to their autumn-coloured leaves - so at the end of November
when usually trees are bare, one could have quite a full-on autumnal
experience. But I expect our first bit of real winter will put a stop to that
now...
December
More bird song
thoughts
Further to previous thoughts on the composition
of birdsong (particularly blackbirds’), below is a recent letter from New
Scientist magazine:
‘…nobody who has listened to Australian
butcherbirds can doubt that birds make music. Their varied songs can all be
transcribed – both pitch and rhythm – into Western notations. Many Australian
composers have used their songs, and Brett Dean (contemporary Australian composer) even incorporated an actual
recording in his Pastoral Symphony.
Furthermore, butcherbirds use other ‘human’ musical tricks such as adding
ornamentation, or singing a melody followed by its inversion. They duet with
others, and even with different species such as the Australian magpie. I once
got a butcherbird to duet with me by whistling its song back to it. The bird
replied, slightly changing the melody. This delightful musical conversation
carried on for a minute or two before it flew away.’ (G Cox, New South Wales)
Why bird-watch?
 |
| Bird watching hide. By Dave Croker |
A young friend recently asked, ‘Why
bird-watch?’ I tried to think it through from scratch... most people have a
fascination with flight and an envy of creatures that fly, and enjoy
vicariously flying with them. (I have heard a convincing theory that all sports
are a form of this – either making an object fly, or making ourselves go faster
than normal to simulate that feeling…) Unlike most land-bound creatures, birds
don’t need to hide away and so are far more visible for our enjoyment, even in
towns and all the year round. They’re not mammals but still have a huge
cuteness factor. They’re the only animals whose vocalizing we find genuinely,
tunefully beautiful (except maybe for some monkeys like gibbons?). They are the
only warm-blooded creatures who display colours and patterns of a magnificence
to outrival the insect and fish world. Their behaviour is stunningly varied and
fascinating, sometimes scarily clever, and often demonstrates what we would
consider moral and enlightened behaviour in humans.
 |
| 'Bird Watching' by Edmund Selous Illustration by Joseph Smit |
A friend added, ‘On a similar theme, and risking sounding like an entry
in Pseud's Corner, I've always speculated that perhaps in some sense flying
birds helped early humankind to calibrate the as yet inconceivable space
between the solid earth, the clouds and the stars. Birds just might have added
another measure by which our ancestors defined their place in the vastnesses of
landscape, horizon and sky and by doing so made it all somehow less scary.
I'd also celebrate the ability of bird songs and calls to evoke landscapes, seasons and personal memories...!’
I'd also celebrate the ability of bird songs and calls to evoke landscapes, seasons and personal memories...!’
Frost at Upton
Another hard night’s frost beautifully
decorated plants and leaf litter. All was whitened, with veins, edgings and ribbing picked out with
bolder needles. By some quirk of temperature, frost had also formed larger
spangles of ice flat on dead leaf surfaces which glittered exotically.
Meadows flashed with tiny ice fires, and even
when the bright sun melted it, by another physical quirk the droplets left were
so fine that they continued to flash rainbows through the grass blades.
 |
| Mink. By Gwen Thomas |
On Monday I saw a mink at Upton upon Severn. At first
I thought it was a small black cat whisking out of view on a mooring pontoon,
but slightly later it reappeared, walked around the deck, then slipped into the
water & swam away. I have reported it to the Worcestershire Wildlife Trust
- I am concerned that just down from there was a likely nesting site for local
kingfishers. I don't know what the current national or local policy is on mink,
if any – but obviously a beautiful animal in its own right.
 |
| Upton winter sunrise |
END
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