Tag Archives: Kestrel

Love of Nature, Natural History, Nature Reserves, Wetlands, Wildlife

Bullfinch! Winter Walk Hits Target

Winter has definitely set in. The spinach beet in my garden was all frozen, the air at -3 Celsius and the ground presumably rather colder under a clear night sky. Fearing it might all be lost, I picked some and went out to see what there might be today down at Wraysbury Lakes.

Almost the first thing I saw was a bulky little finch high in a waterside willow. It called ‘deu’ quite loudly, fidgeted about and flew before I could focus on it. Still, there was no doubt it was a Bullfinch: the call, its shape, its solitary habits, and its shyness all pointing the same way. It is never an easy bird to see, even where it is resident (it is regularly ringed at Wraysbury). Leafless trees and the rising energy of the coming breeding season provide one of the few opportunities to catch a glimpse of this less well known finch.

At first sight there seemed to be no birds out on the lake. Finding a small illicit patch cleared by a fisherman I set up the telescope and looked about. A Pochard or two; some Tufted Duck and Coot; a male Goldeneye… but the Smew and Goosander of a week or two ago were nowhere to be seen. The old truth is that you  never know what you’ll see: but it’s often a delightful surprise, and almost always energizing to be out in nature.

I walked on and looked about again: some rather white ducks caught my eye in the distance. Two male Goldeneye,  each with a female in tow. The males threw their heads forward a few times, pretended to preen; one threw his head back and forth, then lowered his head and stretched it out and in. His female swam after him, her head resting on her back as if she were asleep! But she was certainly watching the display, and swimming to keep up a few lengths behind.

A loud squawk betrayed a Heron; it flapped out of cover at the end of the lake and landed on the bank behind the ducks. A few Mallard panicked from the water below me; a Moorhen briefly took flight.

Away from the lake, a few Robin and Dunnock hopped in and out of the bushes. A solitary Fieldfare or two gave their chack-chack call from the hawthorns, watchful and flighty. Another Bullfinch calling, this time atop a bare hawthorn bush – or maybe the same bird, half a mile on – and again I couldn’t get binoculars on to it, despite my stealthiest movements: it had surely seen me at once, and just took a few seconds to decide when to flee.

A Kestrel hovered beyond the tall poplars: no Buzzards or Red Kites today, but really the Kestrel feels almost more special than them, its numbers declining across Britain.

A few Jackdaws, Carrion Crows and Wood Pigeons on the horses’ hill; some Fieldfares in the trees, with a single Redwing; a Stock Dove flying low.

Natural History, Nature Reserves, Wildlife

A Bright Winter’s Walk in Richmond Park

Red Deer Stag
A fine 16-Point Red Deer Stag

In Scotland, the male of the Red Deer is called simply a Stag, all other male deer (presumably Roe in that country) being known as Bucks. Down here, with Sika and other species about, it may be wise to name the species explicitly. There are signs up warning of the impending cull, so now may be the best time of year to see fine large stags resting quietly, the rut over.

Richmond's splendid anthills
Richmond’s splendid anthills

I was welcomed to the park by a flock of Jackdaws chattering in the trees. Down in the valley, last year’s grass stalks are whitening, the fine big anthills well outlined in the low winter sunlight.

A Stonechat was perched on a slender stalk, level with the tops of the grass; there cannot be much in the way of insect food to catch just now.

Egyptian Geese under the Willows
Egyptian Geese under the Willows

On the Pen Ponds, there were remarkably few waterfowl of any kind, but the lower pond had half-a-dozen Pochard. the males handsomely rufous-headed, a pair of Wigeon, the male with a conspicuous white wing-bar, and tucked in a corner under the willows a pair of Egyptian Geese, taking to the water and protesting with short dry honks when molested by a dog.

Male Stonechat
Male Stonechat

Walking back up the hill, a Kestrel hovered briefly, rested in a tree giving a good view of his spotted breast and back. Two herds of Red Deer, one at the base of the hill, one at the top, both with all ages and both sexes together, grazed silently. In the muddiest places, footprints of men, dogs and deer clustered together.