'That's Soooooo Last Season!'- Waders in the autumn

Hilbre Island is a small sandstone outcrop off the Wirral coast. It was at one point a spindly prominentary, but has since fallen foul of erosion and consequently is now a tidal island. It is home to a bird observatory and one of the UK's best wader roosts, mainly because of the lack of disturbance from the general public. It really is one of my favourite places on earth.

Still, as I looked across the sea from west kirby towards the island I looked with aprehension. This was mainly because i'd arrived by train from Liverpool and noticed I wasn't wearing a pair of wellies. Or walking boots. I was wearing a pair of trainers. So as I stared across the sands I had the unappealing prospect of soggy feet all day. So like the sensible person I am I took them off and tied them to the bag and crossed Croagh Patrick style. It was only as I reached Hilbre I did a headcount and found i'd lost a shoe. I was informed by someone crossing that the absent shoe was half way back to the mainland, and so ensued a race against the tide to retrieve the shoe before it did. I won. Just.

But this was all worth it, for as I sat and had my lunch a Pomerine Skua passed north-south along the island. This was followed by the wader roost, as it circled the island looking for suitable rocks. I caught up with them as they landed on the usual ledges, precariously placed below the cliff edge. This meant that into the equation I had to place both getting those killer shots AND staying alive. They say that if you wriggle towards waders they tolerate you on the grounds you look like a seal. I thought I looked more like a tit.

Still, some cracking individuals to look at, although sadly the bestest ones were lower down and out'a  reach. To kick off here's a moulting Turnstone, taken looking down on it...

...here's a more wintery individual on the very recognisable sandstone island...

...its comical watching them try and move around on one foot, they refuse to put the second one down...!

...one of the finer looking birds...

...but roosting waders present a problem of bokeh. As they rest they like to be hard up against the rocks, so when you're trying to get close to them you have to try and angle yourself so as you get some depth of field. This one was well placed...

...a sleepy one...

...Peekaboo...!

...but its not just Turnstone on Hilbre. As I scanned them I located a small group of Dunlin, not as respledecant as they were when I watched them on Shetland, but still stunning wee birds...!

...this one's a bit over the top...!

...and the obligatory portrait...

...and after I informed the bird observatory of my wader counts and seawatch bounty I set off over the sands, sun setting behind and wader massing in front, reflecting for the umpteenth time this holiday, its not so bad being off.

Flashes of Inspiration

Of late I have pondered the perrenial problem of insolvency, a problem that's as old as photography itself. Light. There's never the right quantity is there? Overexposure, underexposure, a lack of detail, a lack of contrast. This, when coupled to my innate capacity to misjudge things, means that most of my photos are imperfect in some small but regrettably important aspect, and this is no more evident than in my macro work.

Some may not have seen my macro rig (I think most people would be in that category. Poor them!), but I can try and describe it. Basically, its an 18-55mm kit lens bolted to somewhere between 12mm and 100mm of extender tubes with my increasingly indispensible 50D on the back. This is, for what I paid for it, the best combo for macro. Don't get me wrong, i'm not moaning (did that last post!), but there isn't a lot of light down with so much crap between the lens and body. This is even more pronounced when looking into the sun. I needed a solution to this problem that ideally didn't involve shelling out on a special macro flash, something simple.

 But I actually have a pop-up-built-in flash on the 50D, its not a question of have and have not, its just having it in the wrong place. After some experimentation I added 2 pieces of milk bottle to the rig, one next to the flash (to diffuse it), and another at the end of the lens. This second one was angled downward, so as the already diffused flash hit it the light would be directed downward to the subject in front of the lens. With the addition of bluetak this rig was shipshape and ready for a field test. The location would be Dunham Massey: the subjects Dragonflies.

I've found (with help!) a log where the animals landed regularly to sun themselves. They're predominantly Common Darter, though i've had both Brown Hawker and Emeralds here too. This biased was evident in my photography, where I only got the Commons, but hey ho the flash worked. Not so sure about the hues, bit unnatural, but a good start...!

...as the sun comes out the wings go up...

...and a little closer...

...portrait...

 

 

...and the female, drabber (and for me prettier!)...

 



...Up close and rather too personal...!

...a nice couple hours, slightly marred by being stung to buggery by nettles but as they say, we all 'suffer for our art'. But rarely in such a physical way.

The Steepest of Learning Curves

First it was fine. Then it wasn't. Then the Bios loaded. Then the OS didn't. Some will recognise the symptoms of hard drive failure there, some (like me!) won't. But alas, as I booted up after some macro in the garden that was exactly what happened. I've tried numerous methods to retrieve the content of the hard drive, but it is, to use a technical term, absolutely f***ed. I've lost all my photos from last November.  Bit of a blow, but my camera's OK so its just an incentive to get out there and get some more images!

Still, since the hard drive is thought (by the bloke at the shop) to be fully recoverable in some guise or another. That is at considerable expense though, so it'll have to wait until I start working. However, this incident has taught me a valuable lesson, and one that i'll not be forgetting any time soon:

BACK IT UP!

 



'Kid in a Sweetshop'- Birding the Pyrenees (Part II- Birds, Beasts and Norovirus)

Having visited the Spanish side of things, we headed on from our stint in Jaca (a stage fininsh in the Vuelta for those interested!) to the Col du Portalet. I am infantile in the extreme and therefore referred to it as the Col du Portaloo but the birding was anything but crap! Upon arrival we were greeted by the sight and sound of a singing male Rock Thrush, the flypast of a Golden Eagle and this...

...the Alpine Marmot, a staple of mountainous regions in Europe. They're big flightless mammals that live in holes and graze the Pyrenean meadows found on the slopes of the peaks. These are some of the richest grasslands i've ever seen, fueled by a mix of intense rain and the overbearing southern European sun. They're the best habitats I can think of for butterflies and other insects, so let's kick things off with a Blue (Silver Studded?)...

...and this butterfly, not a clue as to what he is but he's a right pretty individual...!

...but some dog took a shine to us and every time I went for a landed butterfly the creature put it. So we left the Col du Portalet and took off up to the Haute Pyrenees. A stop at the Col du Aspin en-route to Argeles-Gazost yielded Red-Billed Chough...

...and the road down the rarer and shyer Alpine Chough...

...as we arrived it soon became clear that the cultivated landscape around Argeles wasn't going to be quite the hunting ground Jaca was. Still, as we headed up the Col du Tourmalet ahead of the Tour (yes I did the world-famous col with a 400mm lens!) I spotted some lovely butterflies, including this Frit...

...the eyes have it! But we also have a new national hero in a certain Mr Wiggins, and we had the privilege of seeing him in the flesh (and lycra)...

...next day the plan was to return to Tourmalet to look for Snowfinch, but a dodgy rattly car and some thick cloud cover stopped anything coming of that. So here's one from last August (same location)...



...so we went through to St Lart-Soulan, a place I know well. Sure enough, a walk up to a hanging valley yielded Whinchat...

...and a rather elusive family of Red Back Shrikes, the only RBS that's still welcome in the UK...!

...and some stunningly tame Corn Buntings. Pity about the light...

...and this, erm, creature. Look, I thought it was a butterfly but checking the antennae they're not bobbled and that's the fattest butterfly i've ever seen...!



...alas although I had another day in this stunning area I contracted a viral infection and spent a day (and the journey home!) glued to the toilet, to put it delicately. Not pleasant. Still, the holiday was ace, with a Tour win, new species, some stunning insects and the food wasn't too bad either! I love the pyrenees and hope to make it three times in three years in this stunning landscape. Perhaps i'll try to bait for vultures. Or try harder for stuff like Chough. I don't know. But what I do know is whatever I do it'd be time well spent. However, i've just come back from a music festival and am absolutely knackered and probably smell faintly of sweat and urine, so that's over and out for now!

'Kid in a Sweetshop'- Birding the Pyrenees (Part I- Jaca Ass)

Well let me really rub it in, after Shetland I stayed home for a week watching Father Ted and occasionally editing some photos when I felt like it. However, after a week of this I set off once more on my jollies, this time south to the far flung (and slightly exotic) destination of Portsmouth. From here I boarded the Cap Finestre, the ferry bound for Bilbao in northern Spain. It was with the intention of watching the Tour de France we set out that day from Portsmouth, but with a couple of days before and after we had some time to burn and in such a wonderful location the prospect of doing some light birding suited me down to the ground. We've visited the Pyrenees as a family before so knew some reasonable sites and had high hopes that, going in July rather than August, the birding'd be even better than last time. We broke the trip down into going to a certain number of places, covered in this post are:

- Argomaniz
- Jaca
- Riglos/Aguero

...but going somewhere by boat brings with it opportunities, such as those to watch the Common Dolphin in the bow-wave...!

... and 24hrs after leaving Portsmouth we docked in Bilbao, 5pm local time. We had designs to get to Argomaniz near Pamplona before nightfall for some kip before pressing onto the mountains. After some tricky navigation out of Bilbao we settled down for the night, adding Serin, Cirl Bunting, Goldfinch, Linnet and Melodious Warbler to the mix. However, I concentrated mainly on the Black Redstarts, a Pyrenean speciality and a bird not to be missed in its stunning full plumage. This is the male...

...The Serin waited for the next morning, but didn't resist for long as it sat at pretty much head height on a wall by the road...

...but Argomaniz was but a staging post in our stratospheric journey to one of my favourite places on earth, up there with Shetland, Manchester and Anfield. We arrived in Jaca, a smallish town in a valley on the Spanish side of the range. Our afternoon's targets were a Lesser Spot of Lunch and Rock Sparrow. With the first negotiated with little trouble, we set off to pursue these elusive but very attractive sparrows. They live on Jaca Citadel, and eventually we found them. As expected they proved elusive so we left them to have some tea, returning the next morning. On a tour (or 'Vuelta') of the town we found Bee-eater (a lifer!) and this egg-laying Small Skipper...

...VERY co-operative insect, my best shots of one to date. However, with the shadows lengthening and my eyelids dropping into my peripheral vision I called it a day. Or a Dia, I guess.

An early start and as the sun rose we were in position in the crisp morning air near the citadel. Having watched their activities yesterday I had a battle-plan: wait for them to leave their nests, fly across the moat then hit em at close range over the wall. This worked. Broadly speaking...!

...and that yellow throat that marks them out...

...so not a bad start. We then headed towards the twin-towns of Aguero (not Sergio, thank God!) and Riglos, home of the 'Mallos' (or fingers to the likes of you or I). En-route we stopped for lunch, and I got my first ever acceptable Black Kite shots as it came low through the valley...

...whilst we ate the Crag Martins whirred overhead, I tried to capture a feed as the adults attended to some young in a tunnel...

...if nothing else that 50D can't half deal with noise! That was at ISO 1600 for those interested. As we came in towards Riglos we couldn't help but admire the Mallos, what a structure...!

...in the shrubs at the bottom I found my first lifer of the trip, a Sub-Alpine Warbler. Not a great shot, but crappy light and I was still excited having seen it...!

...and found a lovely Black Redstart nest...

...but aside some very interesting vulture nests, we found little at the towns of the Mallos. Still, that was not a day to be sniffed at and as we meandered back through the scorching Spanish countryside we reflected that, on the whole, it wasn't such a bad life.

Shetland 2012- Day V: Hear no Evil, Speak no Evil, See F*** All

Well I woke up on my last day up north, looked out the window and went back to bed? Why? Because it looked like someone had shoved cotton wool up against the glass. I couldn't see a foot in front of me, which doesn't bode well for trying to see birds. Despite this, at 8:00am with no sign of the weather improving we consumed some oatcakes and went out into the fog. It cleared a little, and I could make out some Oystercatchers by the roadside, a young'n with its parent...

...I was pleased with the shot actually, especially as it was the first one I took before 11am! Still, the fog started to lift and along with my spirits. We headed south to Sumburgh Head, an RSPB reserve. Its a sea cliff, but (in my opinion) not in the same league as Hermaness. I shouldn't knock it though, its a good reserve, here's a newly fledged sparrow on a rock...

...but through the clearing fog I spotted what I really wanted to see, an Arctic Skua and only the second one of the trip...

...If Bonxies are thugs, then Arctic Skuas are assassins, they're just more refined-looking birds. Still, as I panned after this killer I heard a wren below me. Close in. So I looked down, and literally about 2 foot from me a Shetland Wren sat, singing away. I took some shots, it gave me a once-over and then retreated....

..but at this point I somehow lost my mind. I'd signed a pact with myself; I had loads of Puffin shots from my stint up on Hermaness, I didn't need any more from Sumburgh. What I certainly didn't need was a load more editing. What I should've done was look to find the Skua again. But then one landed in front of me and preened. It was about three metres away. Any thoughts of Skuas flew away as quickly as the bird itself. I became a Puffin-mad photographical machine once more...

...and then one with fish came, so I could get The Shot. Y'know? The one on the cards at Smiths...?

...and out the burrow...

...and a happy-flappy bird...

...but, as ever, all good things must come to an end and it was through this logic that I found myself in the departure lounge at Sumburgh airport. It'd been a great trip, with only one new bird for me in Red Necked Phalarope but a host of new species in front of the lens. I was thoroughly pleased with my 5 day stint, so it was with teary eyes I boarded the Loganair flight to Aberdeen. Goodbye Shetland, I can't wait to return!

However, I cannot just leave this hanging. I'd like to thank Jason Atkinson for his help planning this trip, without his knowledge i'd never've visited Hermaness, Fetlar or Burravoe. More help also came from Dougie Preston, so thanks for help with the Black Guillies even if they didn't play fair in the end!

Shetland 2012- Day IV: Contingency Plans

Well, as we approached West Sandwick from the north the sun was behind us creating beautiful golden light and it poured over the moorlands of Yell. We still hadn't seen a Golden Plover at that point, so armed to the teeth with tins of Sardines, some bread and a second battery we set off up onto the moors to find one. Sure enough, one was calling straight away. Now Golden Plover nest in loose colonies, with a couple of pairs fairly close together. This makes singling out a bird for a photo difficult. To augment this, there's nearly always a sentry bird, and this colony was no exception. I took a long distance snap and left it be...

...but this was quite late at night, I was tired and tomorrow was another birding day so I packed up, loaded my photos and slept the sleep of those that've crawled too far on their bellies!

Next day we heard the early morning forecast over breakfast. High winds, turbulent seas, no Mousa crossing for us! This was confirmed with a quick look at the Mousa website, and was a real pity for us as we were really looking forward to the chance of Black Guillemot and Divers. So I had all of a sudden a need for a plan B. This came from Jason Atkinson and Dougie Preston, who had both reccomended Burravoe on the south coast of Yell for Black Guillemots. So we had a look early doors, but nothing about. However, patience is often rewarded (even if it is from unusual quarters!) and we soon had 7 Dunlin...!

...Lift off...!

...a wee preen...

...I think Kelp and sullen sea water were my favourite background I had all day...

The walk back to the car was further sweetened by the appearance of Twite by a tumbled down chapel, one of my favourite birds and something I had on my Shetland 'wishlist' of things i'd love to see...

...how close....?

... but although we had these sensational views we did need to get on, so we left th Twite to their seeds, the Dunlin to their weeds and the Black Guillemots nowhere to be seen. But that's life, and wildlife in particular; win some, lose some, carry on anyway. I picked up this fella in the rock armour at Toft...

...and as we rounded the bend off the ferry we had this Redshank, which with some careful car manouvering was within shooting distance...

...but our real target was Red Throated Diver. I'd seen em before, the day before, but as Divers generally are they're right buggers to shoot! They're also a protected species so I can't photograph them with young, even if they were by the roadside (as they were on a number of occassions!). So I won't disclose where I saw them, but they were our target on the road up towards Eshaness, an area reccomended as the best area for them by Richard. Here's one by the road...

...but that's the best I got, although I can't complain as I watched an adult feeding chicks from the road! Another Shetland special was on the cards too, a pair of Whooper Swans...!

Now I see you looking at the water in the last two shots and I hear you think 'that's not exactly stormy, why wasn't this fella on a boat bound for Mousa?'. Well this was in the north, and as we drove south the extent of the wild weather was revealed. We pitched up at the Spiggie Hotel for the night, and continued south to Sumburgh for some afternoon Puffins. But the 6 foot breakers, howling winds and rain did not make for ideal conditions. However, non-ideal conditions often mean 'interesting' images, particularly as the Puffins struggled to land on the thin ledges...!

...or battled the wind simply staying there...!

...but at this point there was spray in the air and I didn't want any of it on my lens so I left them be and headed back for a right nice tea at the Spiggie Hotel and an early night! Who knew what the morning held? Who knew what would've been brought in overnight...!