All Change

Well it's nearly the August bank holiday, the harbinger of Autumn and the final nail in the coffin of the summer. And this past week the Dee has been saturated with waders, a sign I always assosciate with Autumn and the coming Winter. As I walked down to King's Gap this past Tuesday, the wind up the high street to the train station was testament to this seasonal change, and it was this wind that pushed the tide and the birds up the beach towards the onlookers on the promanade. As ever the flock remained initially distant...



But before long the outlying birds reached my position, prone as I was on the muddied sands of the estuary edge. The first to arrive are nearly always the Ringed Plovers, who neatly separate them off from the flock as a whole and feed on the peripheral edge closest to the shore...



As if it wasn't Autumnal enough, the big clouds of rain that pressed ominously down opened and drenched me and the birds...



The showers were intermitent, so by messing with shutter speeds I achieved a number of different shots of the birds in many different conditions...



The odd dogwalker always disrupts proceedings, but the birds always return to the same few positions...



...the wind also blew loose sands at the birds (and into my lens!), which- to judge from their expressions- they weren't too keen on...






As the tide drew closer, the birdlife changed and Dunlin like this became easier to snap. This one was ringed high up on the leg with a BTO ring, it would be awesome to see where it was ringed and where it breeds, my bet's on the Shetland Isles!



This fine Ringed Plover had retained almost full summer plumage, and was easy to pick out of the flock...



This Dunlin was an amazing individual, as it had no feet and one leg. It was equally harrowing and hilarious watching it trying to land on the loose sand at the water's edge, trying to balance it's weight on it's pegleg...





As high tide approached, the birds started to calm their feeding and rest a little...



As mentioned previously, it's the Plovers that tend to inhabit the shoreward side of the flock. The seaward side is primarily occupied by Sandering (as well as the ubiquitous Dunlin), the former of whom are constantly running in and out of the flotsam like tiny clockwork toys. This one stopped long enough for a snap...



I really love this pose...



As the tide continued in, the birds started to wheel high above the sands, and as they settled to landing again I tried to catch that moment the air brakes go on and the undercarriage is deployed...



...Some are quicker on the uptake than others, and some come round for a second pass...



It's amazing to see the flock mentality, it's almost like an elastic band; the birds wheel out to one side, and if a sufficient number leaves then the band breaks and the birds start to move off. If too few leave, then the birds return to their feeding. I wonder if there's a specific threshold, a miniumum size for a splinter flock if you will...



...But enough of that, it's enjoyable enough just watching the colours change as the birds wheel..



This sea of golden birds will soon be silver...



And so another season starts, and I'm not just talking about the football. Though that's always pretty exciting.

Shetland 2012- Day III: If the world were flat i'd have fallen off!

After sailing across the sea from our Fetlar victories, we felt invincible. We'd go the Phalaropes on a dull day when they hadn't been seen the previous day, we had Dunlin in the bag, we had seen a Black Kite, we'd seen Black Guillemots on the crossing and I hadn't screwed up the exposure which is an achievement in itself for me! We arrived on Unst and were struck by the change of character from the peaty wastes of Yell and the green grass of Fetlar. Unst is rocky, the hills more pronounced and the scenery less bleak and more impressive. We didn't stop for a roadside Red Throated Diver as it drifted by, something I would perhaps regret later. However, we did dump our stuff at the Baltasound Hotel (Britain's Northernmost Hotel!) and walk up to the Keen of Hamar NNR. As I said we felt pretty invincible, and neither of us being botanists we thought it an excellent to look for Edmundson's Chickweed, a Shetland endemic species. We only had a vague idea what it looked like and surprise surprise we didn't see it, but we did see this rather nice Heath Orchid...

...and this Ringed Plover, looking rather odd in the barren landscapes of Hamar...

We called it a day there and had some brilliant fish and chips back at the hotel and went straight to sleep having backed up my memory cards on the computer and charged up tomorrow's batteries.

We rose early to get out to the next site, Hermaness NNR. This really is the UK's most northerly place and a legendary seabird colony, home once to an albatross and now a Bonxie stronghold, Gannetry and Puffin colony all rolled into one site. Straight onto the 2 mile walk in we had 2 Bonxies displaying...

...and once on the cliffs I thought i'd died and gone to a better place. Turns out i'd just gone to a better place, with Puffins by the bucketload, Bonxies piratical as ever and the Gannets which seemed to line every cliff, outcrop and stack. I snapped a Fulmar as it whizzed by...

...and this Bonxie as it closed in on its victim...

...but on the reccomendation of Richard, we went onto the southern reaches of the headland, not the north. This was the scene that greeted us...

I have very little sense of smell, brought about by sharing a room with 2 budgies. Still, even I could smell the Gannets on the ledges below. The reason Richard had mentioned turning south along the cliff was that here the Gannetry extended upwards towards the footpath, so I was able to get stunningly close views of these birds as they tried to land...

Like a bullet...

...can you really get too close...?



...but its an exposure nightmare, its a balancing act between over-exposure and trying to bring out the colours of the head. Its a fine line, I don't know how well I did it, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all!

We next headed out towards the best named rock ever, Muckle Flugga. This is the main Puffin area, and boy did we connect with these birds! Amazingly no chicks were present, so no fish-in-mouth shots, but with such tame subjects I could afford to 'get creative'. The area is so green and verdant that I could, with the help of the midday sun, get some quite vibrant hues out the grass. For the following shot I had to lie on a gradient of about 20%, and I nearly went over the edge! But luckily I survived...

...and the headshot...

...and the flapping shot...

...But these Puffins left for the sea and I thought i'd move along, change background and let rip at some new targets...!

...but as we neared the top of Hermaness Hill (and were consequently the northernmost individuals in the UK) we encountered a rather nice Dunlin...

...but it wouldn't be Hermaness without some Bonxies, would it? So here's your lot...!

But alas we couldn't stay on Hermaness forever, for one my camera battery would run out, so we headed south to the Isle of Yell for our second night there, and our time on Unst drew to an end. With high winds forecast the next day we wondered whether our plan of going onto the island of Mousa was possible, with our good fortune up until this point it seemed we were due some bad luck!























Shetland 2012- Day I: Seventh Heaven

There are 3 things you think as you land at Sumburgh, Shetland:

1) S*** is that the runway sticking out into the sea?
2) Is that really that safe?
3) Hey, isn't that a Bonxie over there?

and then you're down. Once you're out the Skylarks are in full voice, the Oysteys are flying about, there's a Gannet fishing offshore and you realise that the baggage carousel isn't going to be quite the ordeal it should be. And then you're let lose on this Archapelego, allowed to wander undisturbed and it suddenly strikes you quite what the implications of that are.

When I went it was with my mother (as I can't drive and would doubtless end up talking to myself and barking at the moon should I have gone alone), and since we flew in we didn't have a car. This was soon remidied, and off we sped towards the land of Lerwick. A certain football game had seen me in bed a little later than planned the previous night, but nothing would stop me from birding till I dropped that day, come hell or high water. Or a serious lack of sleep. So we arrived in Lerwick, the only town in Shetland resembling a town (living in Manchester your whole life sets standards quite high!) but after stocking up at Tesco we headed down to the beach for some lunch, for me a Mackrel sandwich and a Scone.

Alas, lunch was cut shot by the arrival of an Arctic Tern, a bird on The List and so it needed its portrait taken...

...and afterwards I had a few minutes watching some 'urban' seals...!

...but soon the Mackrel were gone and the Scone consumed which signalled a departure down a Secret Location, where a certain Long Tailed Skua has resided for some time now. We didn't see it, probably because it spends a long time off territory now as it doesn't have a mate. Still, as I was wondering why the Curlews sounded funny it clicked and the penny dropped. From a great hight, too. they were WHIMBRELS! This is the stuff of mythology for me, the idea of Whimbrel breeding in the UK is a bit like the idea that cheese is curdled milk; you know that its true but never thought it would have any impact upon youself. So naturally I grabbed the camera and clicked away happily...!

What a bird...!

...but not to be outdone, out popped a Wheatear chick....

...Mum wasn't happy with baby being around strangers with 400mm lenses...!

But with the Skua definitely not being there we headed north. Again. This time to the Isle of Yell which lies to the north of the mainland and a top area for peat bogs and consequently waders. However, at Toft ferry terminal a little Wren was hopping about. Unusual I thought, Wrens live in trees and bushes, what's this one doing in the rock armour? Then I had a double take, this was a BIG Wren, streaky too. It was a SHETLAND WREN! But more than that, it was an adult with chicks...!

...it was rather surreal watching these little wrens hiding in the boulders...!

But, as they say, Shetland Island Council waits for no man (least of all one who's watching wrens!), and it was time we went across the waters to Ulsta, Yell. We got the customary welcome of Curlew, Oystey and Wheatears before heading on up to our accomodation in West Sandwick. After dumping the stuff we headed for the south of the island, picking up this beaut on the way in some stunning evening light...!

As well as a Ringed Plover feeding in the kelp, a failed breeder perhaps...?

...Before this ARCTIC SKUA came and had a go at them...!

Continuing along Southern Yell we came across a Wheatear hovering, some potshots I took turned out OK...!

Before finding a Tern colony. These are little terrors and divebomb relentlessly...!

..what better way to spend the evening than being pecked and defecated on...?

But alas the it was getting late and despite my bravado I was genuinely shattered by the late night, early start and near-constant birding. But how could tomorrow compare with today's breeding Whimbrel, kamekazi Terns, posing Wheatear and the oh-so-cute wren? Quite favouribly, it transpired...!