Reporting a bird ring

Wondering how to while away the fifteen minutes it would take for my marmalade to boil to setting point, I glanced out of the kitchen window and noticed that the bird feeder was nearly empty.  When I arrived at the feeding station with my jug of seed I saw a dead Blue Tit on the ground.  I filled the feeder and picked up the little bird and was wondering how best to dispose of it when I spotted a ring on one of its legs.  After I had returned to the kitchen and dealt with the marmalade (14 Pounds and setting nicely, thank you), I returned to where I had placed the bird in the woodshed away from scavengers.  I got the ring off the bird’s leg and examined it with a hand lens: NH MUSEUM LONDON Y561990.  I had not reported a ringed bird before, so I tried the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) website and that redirected me to the Euring website.  There you select the type of ring from a range of options and then fill in a simple form with the details of ring number, location, species etc.  Very quick and easy and well worth doing.

Our bird had probably been hit by a Sparrowhawk at the time that I went out to the garage to get the birdseed and the noise I made scared the predator off its kill.  It was still warm when I picked it up and had fresh blood around its beak.  We see Sparrowhawks making passes through the garden - the bird feeder is an obvious target- but it is many years since I actually saw a kill.  They are fast and agile, flying through the apple tree where the bird feeder hangs.

Widewater

Widewater is an odd sort of place.  A long, narrow saline lagoon separated from the sea by a shingle bank, and on the landward side a mixed collection of houses with their gardens descending to the water’s edge.  On the one side suburbia, on the other, the sea: today high tide, grey and truculent.  The lagoon supports a population of birds, some resident and some visitors.  

It seems to be quite a rich habitat as there are several groups of birds actively feeding.  Up to ten Little Grebes are diving repeatedly in the water and three Red-breasted Mergansers are also feeding.  While we watch, two more arrive, a male and a ‘redhead’ (female or immature).  They fly in fast and low coming down on the water in what almost seemed like a crash landing.  The male threw his head back in a display posture a couple of times, but did not persist.  Then they both started to dive, coming up almost immediately with food which they swallowed at the surface.  A couple of Little Egrets were active in the shallows and two Redshanks prodded and poked around the edge.

Further along at Lancing Beach Green, an Environment Agency team was hard at work shifting and grading the beach shingle.  Longshore drift inexorably moves the shingle eastwards between the breakwaters and the diggers and dumper trucks move it back again.    My observation over forty years is that this activity has gradually increased in size and complexity and will become more urgent and demanding as sea levels rise.

Recent high tides and strong winds have thrown seaweed and marine debris high up the beach and this has attracted a lot of Carrion Crows.  These have acquired the trick of picking up molluscs and flying up about 10 metres and dropping them onto the shingle. It usually seems to take three or four attempts to break the shell, but the birds persist and seem to succeed more often than not.  I do not recall seeing, or hearing of, Carrion Crows behaving like this in other areas.  But they are smart birds and learn quickly.

Floods, kites and a limping Roe deer.

The best place to be on a bright, clear, sunny New Years Day is on the crest of the South Downs.  We took the easy option and drove up the escarpment to Chantry Post above Storrington and then walked west towards Amberley Mount.  So did lots of other people and the South Downs Way was very busy.  Northwards views extend over The Weald to the North Downs and to the south you look over Blackpatch and  Harrow Hill to the sea and to the far west the Isle of Wight.  It is like being on top of the world.  At Rackham Banks we looked down on the floods in the Arun Valley.  Amberley Wild Brooks looked like a vast lake and Pulborough Brooks to the north seemed as if it was a lake lapping at the edge of the town. These places regularly flood in winter, but there did seem to be a lot of water down there.  Flocks of birds could be seen moving over the water, but too far to be sure what they were.
A steep coombe reaches up from the south towards Rackham Banks, funnelling a stiff breeze on which three Red Kites circled together, wings angled, primary feathers splayed out like fingers and wedge-shaped tails twisting this way and that to keep them balanced.  They circled closely around one another and I am not sure if the interaction between them was friendly or not.  Gradually they climbed higher and their circles widened and we, having to watch our footing on the muddy path, eventually lost sight of them.  Later three buzzards circled languidly above the coombe in their place.  
From Amberley Mount we turned south towards the Burgh.  This is the Angmering Park Estate, rightly famous for its wildlife-friendly farming practices.  Fields are left overwinter in stubble and there are broad headlands, often sown with plants which provide winter feed for wild birds.  A great flock of goldfinches rose and fell over a patch of teasels and in every hedge there seemed to be a flock of yellowhammers.  These are common enough on the Downs, but I do not think I have ever seen so many in one day.  There was even a Reed Bunting, a long way from its normal summer haunts
With so many people taking a New Years Day hike and the sound of shooting coming from two directions, it is not surprising that deer were disturbed and on the move.  Around the plantation on Springhead Hill we saw one group of three Roe deer and a little later another group of four.  It is unusual to see so many in one area at one time as they are not a herd animal.  Sadly, one was struggling with a bad limp and seemed to have lost a rear hoof.

Sea Shells and Sanderling on a Seashore

As the tide receded at East Head we made our way along the beach towards the end of the dunes.  A dozen Sanderling were running to and fro along the edge of the sea.  They are the most engaging birds, reluctant to fly when approached by people or dogs, but scurrying along like clockwork toys over the sand.  
I like to pick up a selection of shells and other bits and pieces of marine life on a beach as it gives a good indication of the sort of habitats and the diversity of life offshore.  By far the most numerous shells here at West Wittering are Slipper Limpets Crepidula fornicata outnumbering all other species combined many times over.  They are not native species, but an alien from North America and a pest of oyster beds.  But there quite a few other species to be found: Dog Whelk Nucella lapillus,  the intricately sculpted Common Piddock Pholas dactylus, Variegated Scallop Chlamys varia with its one sided ‘wing’, Common Topshell Calliostoma zizyphinum, and the Turban Topshell Gibbula magus, Pullet Carpet shell Venerupis pullastra, Common Cockle Cerastoderma edule.  There are usually quite a few razor shells and the one I picked up was the smaller Curved Razor Ensis ensis. It was a cold day with a biting wind, so the rest of the party were not keen to linger on the beach picking up shells, so this is a small selection of what might have been found given more time.  

Waders and Winter Heliotrope at Ella Nore

Yesterday the tide was high at around noon and a stiff south wind was driving the sea up into Chichester Harbour sending great waves crashing over The Winner and Stocker’s Sand.  When the tide is high like that huge flocks of waders take refuge on Ella Nore, a shingle bank on the east shore of the harbour.  Most of them were hidden from view as I watched from the waterside path but every now and then a huge flock would take off and wheel back and forth over the water.  As they flew west they turned their pale undersides towards me and the whole flock flickered and flashed white.  Then as the turned back to fly east their duller grey upper sides showed and they almost vanished against the grey background of sea and sky.  Each time they flew back and forth a few times and then settled back down again out of sight on the far side of the Nore.  Why do they take off and fly about in these great flocks?  My first reaction is to look for a predator as flocking behaviour is done to confuse them, but I did not see one on this occasion and rarely does that turn out to be the cause.  Perhaps it is simply a jockeying for space as the rising tide crowds more birds into a smaller space or the arrival of more birds.  

It is not easy to identify birds when they are flying back and forth in a huge flocks on the move like that at a distance, but there were Dunlin, Turnstones, Ringed Plover and Grey Plover.  Additionally, on the shingle and not taking part in the flight were Shelduck, Curlew and Oystercatchers.  A solitary Little Egret sat on the bank in the salt marsh between the Nore and the shoreline.  

As I stood watching I became aware of a strong vanilla scent in the air around me and looked down and saw that I was standing next to a clump of Winter Heliotrope in full flower.  This is a naturalised plant that is now quite widespread.  It is one of those plants with a contrarian lifestyle, flowering when few other plants do.  Pollinating insects are few and far between at this time of year, but if the heliotrope is the only one in flower then it will have few competitors for their attention.  However on this occasion it was not the only plant in bloom.  All along the shoreline path Gorse was abundant and in full flower, a glorious sight on a progressively gloomy midwinter day.

Cormorants on the pylons

Today the cormorants on the electricity pylons in the Adur Valley near Steyning had abandoned the topmost rungs and cables where they normally roost and had retreated to the spars at the three lowest levels.  With the wind gusting up to 30 mph and promise of worse to come it is not surprising that they were avoiding the more exposed heights.

These have long been a popular roost for Cormorants.  This morning there were about 35 birds on one pylon and a few more on fence posts below.  I have seen up to 150 birds on the three pylons they favour.  Normally they occupy the top spars and cables.  They spread themselves out, maintaining a spacing of about one metre between each bird and its nearest neighbour.  
They seem very quarrelsome and I guess the spacing keeps each bird beyond reach of a lunge from its neighbours beak.  

They fish in the river and are a nuisance at the local angling ponds, but most probably spend their time out at sea and they can be seen at dusk flying up the valley singly or in flocks of up to a dozen or so to spend the night on the pylons.  Some mornings when we are sitting in bed drinking our morning cup of tea we see small groups in V-formation heading back down to the sea. They fish in the river and are a nuisance at the local angling ponds, but most probably spend their time out at sea and they can be seen at dusk flying up the valley singly or in flocks of up to a dozen or so to spend the night on the pylons.  Some mornings when we are sitting in bed drinking our morning cup of tea we see small groups in V-formation heading back down to the sea.

Snow Bunting in the garden!

A snow bunting is not a bird I would expect to see in my garden, but we had a brief visit from one today.  It took us a while to work out work out what it was because it is not a bird you expect to see in an apple tree.  We have been recording the birds that visit our garden for over ten years now and this is a first.  Small numbers of them overwinter in a few sites along the Sussex coast and this one might have been heading for Widewater at Lancing where a pair spent a couple of months last winter.  This one seemed to be hanging out with a flock of chaffinches and soon headed out of the garden towards the trees around Bramber Castle. I will be looking out for sightings of one on the beach in the next few days.