Highly dubious

There I was, inspired by the lightly ruffled waters of the magical Ynys-y-fro Reservoirs, composing what was to become the very pinnacle of my creative photographic output. I framed the image, waited for the perfect combination of light and wind, closed my eyes and pressed the shutter... only to find, on getting home, this abomination of nature had sailed into view. Foiled again!

NB. When describing the reservoirs as "magical" I should point out that I mean their consistent lack of interesting bird life tests one's very belief in such things as the basic laws of biology, physics and mathematics and leads inexorably towards a belief in evil little anti-rarity pixies huddled in the run-down garage at the bottom of the slope, whiling away the hours playing evil little pixie games of three-card brag (eschewing, as they do, the more recent and complicated poker variations), only interrupting the game to pop out and paint any scarcity that does turn up in the livery of the most closely related dross,... the little bastards. One of the Coot on the top basin is an American whose bill/shield has been given a lick of Dulux 'brilliant white' and whose undertail-coverts have been daubed with the same manufacturer's 'classic black'. This, of course, leaves two burning questions: 1. which bloody one!?; and 2. why do pixies always buy Dulux?

A gloomy St. Brides

No "very small curlew/whimbrel" at St. Brides this evening, in fact, there were very few curlews of any description and those that were present appeared to move off to roost elsewhere. The only bird of any interest was a first-winter Med Gull with several hundred Black-heads at the mouth of the Ebbw.

For those of you at a loose end during the coming week, it might be worth checking any of the various wader roosts (Goldcliff Pools/Pill, the saltmarsh at Uskmouth, Peterstone, etc.) or any likely looking fields. But, if you do go looking, try taking a little digital camera with you; inexpensive, lightweight and a pretty much essential piece of kit for the lone birder, gone are the days of single-observer super-rares lacking in photo/audio/video support.

Lurking in reeds

Aquatic Warbler caught, ringed and released at Uskmouth this morning. Today's effort finally produced the target species amongst, what was otherwise, a quite uninspiring (in both number and variety) catch. Also had 14 Tree Pipits buzz over, including a flock of 9, and a couple of Yellow Wagtails but nowt too much else.

Slugs beware

The garden is just one big writhing mass of Slow-worms at the moment, it's amazing what a compost heap, a couple of log piles and the laziest of laissez faire approaches to gardening can achieve.

"... you're gonna die, wearing that stupid hat"

Here's a couple of stories to inspire a Falling Down-esque shooting spree: click here if you need an excuse to don urban fatigues, bandoliers and automatic weaponry and rid the streets of Britain of petty criminals; and click here if you are looking for the impetus to jump behind the steering column of a M1 Abrams tank and go on a balls-out, full-on, rampage against multi-million dollar pig-f**king self-interested cliques in the US.

Pingers

A morning on the acros at Uskmouth produced another 100+ haul, a flyover Greenshank and a couple of right little sweeties - juv male above, juv female below. The difference in bill colour is already present in well-grown nestlings so all birds in the field should be 'sexable'.

St. Ives pelagic

Pictures today, words tomorrow,... so tired,... so very, very tired.

[Edit - the words...] Crept away from Abercwimcum under the cover of darkness, rendezvoused in Isca at midnight and rolled onto Smeatons Pier about three and a half hours later. By five o'clock we were chugging away from St. Ives and out into the lumpy unknown. Drizzle and murk took over as darkness left off, limiting the visibility as we pitched and rolled, wind-against-tide, out to sea. Seven or so miles offshore chumming began and we drifted with the slick like a lonely turd on the swell; Stormies soon appeared, skimming and jinking over the greasy-grey but, as nice as they are, quite a wait ensued for anything of greater note. Luckily, to while away the time, I entertained the other members of the party by going green for a few minutes and threatening to show everyone my breakfast. Then, all need for amusement, and any thought of upchuckery, evaporated as a Wilson's made a couple of passes and I bagged the worst photo of a seabird in the history of history; a second Wilson's briefly trailed the boat on the way back in but, basically, it was all over bar the shouting, a few Manxies and a balloon knot of a drive back.

St. Ives pre-dawn, yes, that is your county recorder centre stage, at this point, still in his trousers.

Storm Petrel slipping past and off into the soft.

Mally, how can you not love that face (breath like a pinniped popping a fluffy mind).

Not exactly buzzin'

Another day, another high tide at Goldcliff. The only 'anomaly' in the 55 strong Dunlin flock was a Sanderling. Elsewhere 1 Knot, 2 Greenshank and 2 LRP were almost noteworthy and one of the colour-ringed godwits is still present whilst 3 Wheatears, a couple of Yellow Wagtail and a few hirundines were the sum of the passerine movement. Also had Painted Lady ovipositing on the Creeping Thistle alongside the third platform and 3 helicopters, 1 light aircraft and a military jet overhead.

We're busy doing nothing

We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through,
Trying to find lots of things not to do.
We're busy going nowhere. Isn't it just a crime?
We'd like to be unhappy but we never do have the time.

Not much birding this week, a few Green Sands over Avonmouth way and precious little else,... have got another boat trip planned for Saturday though,... which is nice.

Cold water? No, my worm is just very small

Nothing too inspiring amongst the waders at Goldcliff this morning, the best bits were probably 3 Greenshank, 2 Green Sands, 2 LRP, 147 Black-tailed Godwit, 15 Snipe and 20 Yellow Wags. During high tide the birds were almost all on Lagoon 1 thanks to half a dozen fisher-folk dotted along the sea-wall and two of their mates stood out on the pill.


Having spoken to a couple of the wanglers, it turns out they, and the 'Newport Sea Wanglers' (the organisers of today's match), are well aware they shouldn't be on that stretch but it seems to make precisely f**k-all difference. They don't even have the sense to sit below the sea-wall. I wonder if they use 'Wanker Custom Lures',... bet they do [Note: if you get a mo, check out the link, it's not every website that includes the phrase "Bob hooked this big bass with a BJ Wanker crank"].

As usual the piss poor putt-putt planes pottered to and fro from Whitson Aerodrome, today joined by a shiny low-flying helicopter.