The wrong American duck

That 'Weekend Birder' has struck again. Off I head for a day out in Berkshire/Surrey when, whilst watching the Yankee Wigeon at Lower Farm GPs, the phone rings - Green-winged Teal, Goldcliff, county first. All chipperness garnered from having found the americana bobbing before me evaporated (not that I'd usually draw chip from following someone else's directions to a long-staying duck but it was not the standard piece-of-pissery I thought it might be, due to woeful planning and an equally woeful lack of navigation aids the previous 30 mins had witnessed the birth of a new sport 'orientbirding'). Luckily, I then remembered I couldn't give a tinker's cuss about my Gwent list and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to think of an Olympic sport beginning with 'n' (not including netball), a type of soup beginning with 'e', a car model beginning with 'o' (but not Orion, Omega or Octavia [was there a Audi Orifice?]) and a singer beginning with 'x'.

The passing of patio doors

Was rearranging my burgeoning collection of dark, fuzzy and largely unused photographs last night when I stumbled over my first ever digiscoping attempt. Despite complete mastery of the Coolpix 775, scope and patio door combination the result was a little disappointing. Of course, seven years, fours cameras and two patio doors later it is all so very different (e.g. see here). Where did all those patio doors go?

Phew! II

So, the government decide the business/city (that infallible institution) is more important than the environment (see here); the current state of play in Gaza is 1000+ Palestinian dead (including over 300 children) vs. 13 Israeli dead (including three civilians); and Kaka is on his way to Man City. Thank jumpin' Jeebus for that, for a moment there (although I couldn't tell you which moment) I thought the world had decided to grow-up but no, once again, we can all sleep easy, safe in the knowledge everyone on this planet is a f*cking moron,... and r-e-l-a-x.

PS. Since you can't trust anyone further than you can throw them, and in the spirit of journalistic transparency (now there's a novel idea), all figures relating to Gaza above originate from The Ministry of Health in Gaza (as quoted by the BBC) who have said 1,013 people have died (including more than 300 children and 76 women) and more than 4,500 people have been injured, of whom 1,600 are children and 678 are women (isn't it quaint that women get a special mention, I was labouring under the misapprehension the sexes were equal nowadays). Thirteen Israelis have been killed, including three civilians and one soldier from rockets fired from Gaza and nine soldiers killed in fighting in Gaza.
Wait a minute my 'PS' is longer than my post, well if you need any further evidence that 'brevity is the soul of wit' you know where I am.

PPS. Score one point and award yourself a Gwentbirding gold star if you noticed the oblique Woody Guthrie reference.

Phew!

So, the Steller's Eider was a hoax and the Nutcracker seems to have been a Starling, thank jumpin' Jeebus for that, for a moment I thought Wales had turned into a mega mecca. Once again, we can all sleep easy, safe in the knowledge all the good birds are somebody else's problem,... and r-e-l-a-x.

Glamorgan calling

I finally gave in to the draw of the Lesser Scaup this morning; the bird was (for the most part) sleeping amongst the Tufteds at the afterthought of a nature reserve on the edge of the former Taff/Ely Estuary SSSI. Didn't manage to see any Greater/normal/bulk standard Scaup or the Slavonian Grebe, but one shouldn't get greedy, and I did get to see a Mute Swan fly headlong into a buddleia so it wasn't all bad.


Dropped in on Lamby Way on the way back, got more views of the 2nd-winter Ring-billed Gull and a pristine adult Med Gull dropped in making all the Black-heads look just a little bit grubby. The 1st-winter Ring-bill and Bittern avoided detection but I did get to meet a certain world-renowned birding dog.


Peterstone Gout was worse than useless, in fact it was worse than my garden which turned up Blackcap.

Sub-rares!

Left the house meaning to mop up the Waxwings and then potter down the Usk valley. The Waxwings were just settling in the Spindle as we arrived and proceeded to show rather nicely. As we shaped to leave, the magic of the mobile phone piped news of a flock of Woodlark straight from Mr Jerry Lewis Esq. to the very inside of the car I was sat in, isn't modern technology amazing! Half an hour later we were at the site but it took another 45 minutes before we found the flock; it's a big field and they are quite skulky little buggers, nice though and a Gwent tick too.

ECB bonkers? Or KP nuts?

This might just be the last straw, the world has gone flipping mad. No, it's not the flagrant disregard of international law currently underway in Gaza; it's not even the fact that Gwent actually has a few sub-rarities knocking around (albeit all of the same, housewife's favourite-type species); it's the bloody cricket! What the ferkin merkin is going on? KP and Moores can't stand each other so the ECB send both to the naughty step. And just as I was starting to entertain thoughts of us getting the Ashes back. I think I might start a 'Blowers for coach' campaign.

One little flicker of good sports news mind, Ronaldo stuffed his £200,000 Ferrari into the tunnel wall at Manchester Airport today,... diddums.

In lieu of Waxwings

Another new series, today I present the first installment of 'thoughts that fill the void left by a lack of semi-rare birds outside TK Maxx'...

Found myself looking at a reproduction of Morot's 'The Temptation of St. Anthony' today. I couldn't help but think "Go on St. Anthony, grab yourself a handful,... you'll feel all the better for it". Do you suppose this is the thought the artist was hoping to plant in the observers mind?

... there's no kind of atmosphere...

A quick search in the afternoon gloom failed to locate the Redwick Firecrest, there were about 100 thrushes knocking around the village though (mostly Fieldfare and Blackbird). Nothing else of note on the levels and a frigid Ynys-y-Fro only managed a few Gadwall and Pochard and a flyover Peregrine. Also missed out on the Waxwing gen due to an inability to find my phone, despite hearing the bleeding thing go off; naturally enough, on returning home, I realised it was in my pocket,... oh, how I laughed.

It's cold outside...

A quick hour at an almost entirely iced over Virginia Water Lake turned up Ring-necked Parakeet, Crossbill, a couple of Kingfishers and possibly the most expertly laid child/dog trap I have ever seen...