We found a dog

Another week flitting hither and thither, mainly thither. A day's training on 'How not to be eaten by killer jellyfish' provided a perfect excuse for an evening on the Hampshire coast. Having forgotten that Titchfield is only open during non-birding hours, I only managed an hour before getting hoofed out; it was, however, long enough to snaffle Garganey, Med Gull, Bar-tailed Godwit and more wee baby wildfowl than you could fashion into midget's slippers (Gadwall really have gone bonkers in the last few years haven't they).

Baby schnozzler. Aaah! He's got his daddy's nose.

Too busy to blog

OK, maybe just too busy to form a coherent sentence so,...

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Too hot to blog

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Siberian Blue Robin

Another morning getting paid to be 'in the field' produced a very small (and diminishing before my very eyes) number of waders on the sunny side of the stream. Highlights included flushing a strange man from a bush and being drawn into a conversation about Swifts and House Martins by a strange man in a wide-brimmed hat. I did see my first Meadow Browns and Common Blues for the year but I was mostly day-dreaming about self-found Siberian Blue Robins and not counting absent waterbirds.

Popped in on the Iberian Chiffchaff post-work, still present, as was a Spotted Flycatcher and a handful of Crossbills.

Also returned the birdrace rental hearse this afternoon and suffered the traditional twinned moments of trepidation and disappointment as the chap in the cheap suit inspects the car, inevitably passes it as 'OK', and the thought traverses the mind that the £10 per day of damage waiver was money woefully spent. Ho-hum.

Red letter day

Yesterday was 'Birdrace Day'! Approximately 22.5 hours, 250 miles and one posterior cruciate ligament injury later and,... whaddya know,... a new record is set. Despite an almost complete lack of scarcities (barring one obvious exception) 122 species were rounded up, pretty much all those regularly occurring in this season, with very few embarrassing misses. As ever with this sort of escapade, the total could have been better: Water Rail and Snipe were both recorded but not by all team members, four auks bombed up-channel but defied detection by some and specific identification by all, and a couple of other possibles/probables slipped by the wayside. Overall though, we topped the existing record by three, so a lot of sweat, a little blood but not too many tears.

Sea beams glimmer in the dark

I nip off to sea for three days and a mega turns up in Gwent. Got back this afternoon, dumped baggage and was soon Wentwood bound [as per ever, click on images for larger versions].

Rain, a chilly afternoon and a less than ideal time of day meant the Iberian Chiffchaff only sang intermittently and rarely with any gusto. Most phrases missed out 'weeps' or the terminal flourish but a few performances were the real deal.

Rather fortuitously managed to record both Iberian Chiffchaff and Siskin calls (to which Iberian Chiffchaff calls are sometimes compared) in close succession.

Another nine and a half hours

Lesser Canada x Barnacle Goose hybrid, with Barnacle, Canada and Greylag also present, Boat Lane continues to be Gwent's kick-ass site for geese. Two male Garganey, Marsh Harrier and Wheatear were also around and about. Curlew Sandpiper (1), Sanderling (6) and Bar-tailed Godwit (6) at Goldcliff Pools took the weekend's wader tally on the reserve to 18 species. Yellow Wagtail, a couple more Wheatear and a mixed singing Willowchiff also snuck into the notebook. The undeniable highlight of the day, however, was the tray of teas and coffees kindly served up by one of the reserve's neighbours to those soaking up the delights of Boat Lane - result.

The long good Saturday

Left home - 05:30

1st stop, Uskmouth - Grasshopper Warbler, Wheatear, 10 Whimbrel and a super Canada x Greylag Goose.

2nd stop, Goldcliff Pools - Temminck's Stint and Little Stint.

3rd stop, Land's End - House Finch.

Returned home - 22:45.

A reservoir for two

Had a late lunch with a Great Northern Diver today, I had the Greek salad, she had the fish. I dressed for the occasion, she didn't. What diver in their right mind would turn up in May in last season's outfit, wandering around in winter plumage at this stage,... whatever next.

PS. The Greek salad was revolting, kept going on about the economy or something.

Birder

Came across this question today, "... where exactly do you draw the line between a birder and a non-birder?" Of course, the easy answer is "Between those people that have to ask that question and those that do not". However, for those that prefer a fuller answer,...

A true birder has a passion for birds and birding. The sights, sounds, excitement and, above all, knowledge fuel his passion for the emotional and spiritual intensity and pure classic beauty that can occur at the intersection of man and bird.

In terms of goals, the zone is the focus of every birders existence, it is only through inhabiting the zone can birders attain fulfillment. A birder lives a life of virtuous ornithological conduct and practice in order to achieve the zone.

The zone is the state of a perfect peace of mind that is free from afflictive states (e.g. craving, frustration, anger). The zone is the end of the worldly; there is no identity, no boundaries for the mind. The birder is at peace with the world, has connection with all birds and gives up all other obsessions and fixations. This peace is achieved when the existing volitional formations are pacified, and the conditions for the production of new ones are eradicated. In the zone the root causes of craving and aversion have been extinguished.

The zone is linked to seeing the empty nature of non-birding phenomena, a radical reordering of consciousness and unleashing of awareness. In the zone the ideal personality, the true birder becomes reality. The zone is the highest happiness, an enduring, transcendental happiness integral to the calmness attained through enlightenment.

The zone is the neutral mind, a mind that has come to a point of perfect ornithological lucidity and clarity due to the cessation of the production of volitional formations. The zone is outside of time, lifelessness, deathlessness, the highest spiritual attainment, the natural result that accrues to one who lives a life of virtuous conduct and practice in accordance with the third path. Such a life engenders increasing control over the process of birding. It produces wholesome birding with positive results and finally allows the cessation of the origination of non-birding altogether with the attainment of the zone. Failing to achieve the zone means beings forever wander through the impermanent and suffering-generating realms of desire, form, and formlessness, termed bird-spotting or dudery.

Of course, another surefire way to spot a birder is social ineptitude and a scant regard for outward appearance and/or personal hygiene.

Just one more question, is that enough piss-taking for one night?