Discovering Canada

Three hours in the Heart of Darknessesque Fojo paid off today when a movement in a sunny patch of foliage became a yellow-bellied pink-legged pulse-racer, then a slatey-blue backed gem and then, eventually (whilst I was shouting "Canada Warbler Fojo" into the walkie-talkie), a balls-out bespectacled beauty. Unfortunately, being the nice guy I am, my brief impersonation of a public service broadcaster meant I missed the first opportunity to get a photo. The bird then proved to be a bit of a bar steward, instantly disappearing for an hour and a half, then showing to Ferran, disappearing for another hour, reappearing momentarily in front of me, avoiding detection for another 30 minutes before, finally, giving itself up to all ten of the assembled masses. Being in the depths of Fojo, there was more vegetation between eye and bird than is strictly necessary (or fair) and light was a mere memory, as a result my photographs are more an experiment in abstraction than accurate illustration (got enough to get it past the CPR though).

This is precisely the view I got on finding the little beauty - pink legs against a yellow belly and white undertail,... it's Canada o'clock!

Just to give you an idea of the vegetation, there's nothing to see here,... wait a minute!

Three Azores tick day

Went looking for an American sparrow, decided to turn right where Peter went left, I found a Wheatear, Peter found a Bobolink. Luckily, I required both for the all-consuming Azores list. After a bit of fannying around the Bobolink eventually showed rather well, not that you could tell that from my pictures. After lunch took a walk to refind the Baltimore Oriole and blundered,... turned up the Rose-breasted Grosbeak instead,... DOH! A late afternoon seawatch produced thousands of Cory's and a Merlin heading off towards Flores. In this wind the Cory's were doing a passable impression of a proper seabird, shedding 90% of the lazy-poor-excuse-for-a-shearwater character and taking on their wind-inspired, almost dashing, alter ego. The Merlin, was the third Azores tick of the day, but didn't fly past close enough to allow the detection of a yankee accent.

Bobolink in the rain, moments after it was found early this morning.

Bobolink in the sun, moments after it was refound a good few hours, and one despairing Frenchman, later.

[Edit: Manuel, our erstwhile host, went and won the local mayoral elections today,... we're staying with royalty! For more information on Manuel and Partido Socialista Açores see here. Go on! You know you wanna.]

Hmmm, now to think up a title

Went in search of the Philly Vireo today, unfortunately, five hours in the valley formerly known as 'the valley with no name' (now known by at least two different names, neither of which I know how to pronounce or spell correctly), drew a blank. However, a dendroica was heard and a thrush briefly seen, both by members of the French contingent. A break in the vireo hunt was provided by a quick Ovenbird twitch, the result of which was to shift my Azores list off Nelson (always a bit of a relief). On the way back I opted against yet another Rose-breasted Grosbeak in favour of purchasing a box of Bran Flakes,... I think we can all agree, a faultless display of tactical nouse.

Second best is close to ideal

Arrived on Corvo around 14:00, by the end of the day we had bagged three of the four American megas on this rock. Not quite a full house but I can't moan to much. In order of photographic crapularity the three species rounded up were:

1. another Black-throated Green, hot on the heels of last year's (yawn)...


2. a Black and White Warbler (the yawning had stopped at this point)...


3. and an American Redstart (no yawning here either).


We also had time to twitch a nighthawk, flying around in the twilight. Not a bad end to an, almost, perfect day.

Eerie Terceira

Pretty much relived yesterday today, the quarry had almost exactly the same birds in it plus a Greenshank and several of the inland sites were totally devoid of birds. Did manage to add Collared Dove and Curlew to my Azores list at Praia Port (the whoops of joy could be heard clean to Sao Miguel) and, whilst touring various coastal localities, we rounded up Common Scoter, Sandwich Tern (two more Azores ticks), a dose of Short-beaked Common Dolphins and a few Madeiran Wall Lizards ('category C' on here, introduced to the islands, presumably accidentally, some while back).

Two facets of gulling on Terceira, the port of Praia complete with a young lab helper...


And the tip,...

Gull ID by Wertheimer, Koffka & Köhler

Following a fractious and, ultimately, unsuccessful attempt at getting to Corvo a couple of days early, we accepted defeat and set about touring the sites on Terceira. The quarry delivered the usual array of Nearctic waterfowl with 2 Semi-palmated Plover, 2 Semi-palmated Sandpiper, 1 Spotted Sandpiper, 2 American Golden Plover, 1 Long-billed Dowitcher, 1 Pectoral Sandpiper and a Blue-winged Teal. Vying for attention from the opposite direction were 1 White-winged Black Tern (2nd for the Azores), 1 Wood Sandpiper and 5 Ruff.


Praia Pools and a couple of sites 'up-country' were absolutely devoid of anything notable, however, Praia Port turned up a very early American Herring Gull.




A couple of features might make this individual potentially troublesome (with regards sneaking it past a rarity committee on the European mainland, e.g. on the deck the dark bases to the greater coverts aren't obvious and the undertail could be more strongly barred), however, a 'gestalt approach' to identifying this bird results in only one conclusion.

You can't keep a calidrid in an aquarium!

Started birding early this morning with a quality dream about a 'Dunlin' in a fish tank. It actually turned out to be a Curlew Sandpiper running around underwater, bobbing to the surface every now and then to take a breath. Having explained to the owners that you can't keep a Curlew Sandpiper in an aquarium, I took it out, but I can't remember where I put it as, from then on, it all went a bit 'Scooby-doo ending'.

Back in the real world... a pre-dawn raid on Uskmouth developed into an almost perfect morning. Blue sky, high wispy cloud, a gentle westerly and a steady trickle of common migrants; everything you need to remind you of the allure of autumn; had a sub-rare (or better) flitted over, the picture would have been complete. Unfortunately, the 'oddities' this morning were headed up by 50 sightings of flyover Jays (usually 1-2 knock around the reserve); the single biggest flock was of 21 going east but smaller groups of birds were going in all directions, I wouldn't want to bet my house on how many individuals were involved but it was a fair few. Other birds on the move included 1-2 Redpolls, 30 Siskin, 20 Skylark, 60 Chaffinch, 2 Great Spotted Woodpeckers and a few each of alba wags and Mipit (the majority of stuff was heading west). On the ground 3 Reed Warbler, 20+ Blackcap, 10+ Chiffchaff and 5+ Goldcrest were a nice supporting cast but the star failed to appear.

It's a field and it's flooded

Dawn at the flooded field, four birders (Flusher, Fiddler and two people lacking in noms de guerre) and a Pec Sand - nice start. Following the arrival of the rest of the Birders Don't Wear Plaid Club (Gwent chapter), and having been granted access, all six of us circumnavigated the golf course and effortlessly failed to find a large schreeping pipit. 'Migration in the raw' consisted of a Siskin and a few Skylark heading west plus a smattering of Chiffchaff and alba wags milling around and about. Then it was off to Redwick for the guaranteed passerine mega,... or possibly just a Garden Warbler, a Swallow, a Blackcap and a handful of Chiffchaff.

A Garden Warbler in a garden, I'd have preferred a Barred Warbler in a bar but you can't have everything can you?

Non-dead Water Rails

An early start to avoid Mr. & Mrs. Joe Public and all their screaming offspring failed miserably as the first human encountered was some inconsequential middle-aged twat out for a walk with his pitiful excuse for a leadless dog. On informing the owner that all dogs (however rat-like) are meant to be tethered to their owner, I was supplied with the faultless pearl that the dog in question "doesn't upset birds and animals". I humbly pointed out that I was an animal and it 'upset' me but, unfortunately, I didn't hear his response, drowned out, as it was by the whoosh of air as my comment passed some distance over his heavily-browed cranium.

Anyhoo, once past muttley, and having been driven from the west end of the reserve by the sheer weight of decibels emanating from the power station, I did actually get to see and hear some birds. Not an awfully large number but enough to make it worth getting out of bed. Vis-mig consisted of a steady trickle of Mipits, alba wags and Chaffinch interspersed with a few Skylark, Grey Wags, a dozen Siskin and one or two Redpoll. On the deck 9 Stonechat and a fair number of Chiffchaff were about the best of it although the duck numbers were pretty good and a couple of Water Rail were showing near the lighthouse.

Short red-based bill,... slimy-green legs,... it can only mean one thing - I'm getting bored trying to turn juv/1st-winter Water Rails into something more interesting.

PS. Had a really brief view of a possible Water Shrew; shot across the path alongside the power station, looked dark as hell above and long in the body. Unfortunately, it wasn't half as amenable to study the last one I had at the reserve.

Water Rail going west

A reasonable number of waders on this evening's high-tide: 1 Little Stint, 3 Spotted Redshank, 4 Greenshank, 175 Knot, 172 Black-tailed Godwit and the usual dose of Dunlin, Ringed Plover, Lapwing and Redshank. However, the 'highlight' was a flyover Raven carrying a dead Water Rail, it was briefly chased by a Buzzard (which may have carried out the initial capture) but soon shook it off and made off west. Less unusual flyovers included a few alba wags, Mipit and Skylark but, in general, pretty quiet on the migrant front.

[Edit: forgot to add this pic last night, the view from the 1st platform just before calling it a day, about half the calidrids (including the Little Stint) were just to the right.]