Long-tailed Duck at the Knap, Barry

If you're anything like me then it's usually easy to recall that first encounter with a new species of wildlife whether it be bird, mammal or anything in between. An afternoon spent tracking Brown Bear amongst the giant Redwoods of California, my first encounter with an Albatross in Monterey Bay or even that crazy evening where the great and the good of our local birding scene descended on Eglwys Nunydd to catch brief glimpses of a Bobolink are remembered just as fondly as the first time I ever saw an Avocet or an Otter or even a Red Kite. Most recently though it was the turn of a Long-tailed Duck to make its indelible mark on my memory when a juvenile stopped over at Burry Port early last year. This was a species I'd been longing to see almost since the day I got back into birding and it didn't disappoint even though conditions were pretty awful. Fast forward to the present day and I've been hankering after a second chance at the Long-tailed Duck ever since.

Fortunately an opportunity finally presented itself back at the start of February when an immature/juvenile type bird was reported on the Knap boating lake in Barry. Having never been to Barry I initially read this news with nothing more than idle interest and a sense of admiration for the finder. Over the following weeks however it kept being reported and without fail, almost as if I was being punished, I couldn't find the time to get down there and see it for myself. Going on past experience I figured that meant I was probably out of luck but with sightings still coming in we finally made it East on Saturday morning. I'm not sure what we'd been expecting but it certainly wasn't this.

To my surprise the boating lake turned out to be a delightful pool set in sunken gardens just behind the sea wall. Protected from any breeze and with sun shining it felt almost tropical, certainly not the kind of place you'd expect to watch a Long-tailed Duck preening, diving and feeding while a few meters away dogs are being walked and ice creams consumed. And boy could this bird preen. Throughout our stay it was almost constantly attending to its feathers culminating in the extraordinary sight of it standing upright in the water so as to reach those pesky underside areas. This seemed to be achieved through a combination of treading water and sheer dexterity though its backwards motion whilst doing so was nothing short of comical. Indeed such was the extent of this activity that I wouldn't be surprised to see the duck move on in the near future.

As always you hope for more and if it wasn't for the horde of Mute Swans following our every move I really think we could have got even closer views. Offerings of bread seemed to attract the Long-tailed Duck but every time it dived to approach the swans would arrive first and the bird would retreat back towards the centre of the lake. There it was closely associating with a small flock of Tufted Ducks who were equally keen to keep away from the melee.

Eventually we had to tear ourselves away with plans elsewhere but not before a short walk along Cold Knap (the shingle beach after which the lake is named) where my first singing Skylark of the spring was in fine voice. Not far away a couple of Dunnocks were also belting out their song with this individual posing well.

Sadly the millpond smoothness of the sea could only deliver a couple of Oystercatchers and a passing Cormorant, but really nothing else was required. This area of Wales has already done more than enough and it'll probably be a long time again before I get such great views of a Long-tailed Duck.

Ducks, Hammers and Longer Days

It seems wrong to start the weekend with this blog headed by two articles on creatures which have sadly passed, so how about a male Pochard to remind us that there is still plenty of the living out there to see.

This accommodating individual kept us company during an hours watch from the Peter Scott hide at Llanelli WWT along with another six of his compatriots, and while a total of seven Pochard may not sound that impressive it represents a very decent count for the species locally. Indeed the whole pool seemed to be packed with ducks, something I've been longing for all winter and which was topped off with a mighty count of fourteen Shoveller. Also present were Tufted Duck (15), Gadwall (6), Shelduck (6), Cormorant (11), Little Egret (4), Little Grebe (2), Black Tailed Godwit (1), Lapwing (2) and a small flock of Teal including one male with a perfectly white back of the head. I only managed a brief view as it landed before quickly swimming out of sight but that strange colouring stood out a mile and was certainly a new one on me. The most likely cause is partial leucism as with the Chaffinch we saw a couple of years ago at Langorse lake so keep an eye out if you happen to visit. I should also mention that the main reason for popping over on Sunday was in the hope of seeing a Bittern which has been putting in occasional appearances of late. Ever since moving here I've been trying to spot one of these elusive birds there but once again we were to leave empty handed. In a way that's probably for the best as what's life without a challenge anyway?

Bringing things bang up to date and today marked something of a significant moment in my nature calendar. For the first time this year I was able to leave work at a normal time and get out onto the patch before the sun had set. Words can't describe the benefit being able to do this has on ones soul and tonight's brief excursion came with the added bonus of four Yellowhammers beneath Cefn Drum. I first picked up the group by their calls as they flew overhead before alighting in a tree which I presume was to be their roost for the evening. Not only are these my first Yellowhammers of the year they also represent my largest single grouping for quite some while. Hopefully this signals a good year ahead for them, no doubt helped by having had such a mild winter.

On such an auspicious evening it was perhaps appropriate that the weather gods should finally have put down their battle axes and presented us with an evening of glorious sunshine. Even though there was a chill to the air the evocative pinkish glow cast by a setting sun reminded me that spring is just around the corner and with it comes another endless array of possibilities. Even the birds seemed attuned to the approaching change with a Buzzard climbing into the air only to dive steeply back down to earth time after time and at least three Pheasants calling noisily to each other across the valley. Let's hope for many more evenings such as this in the months ahead.

38 Species / 39 Points

Goose Barnacles, Cefn Sidan

I was first made aware of Goose Barnacles back in 2009 through this somewhat alarmist article published in the Daily Mail: "The Revolting Dr Who monster that terrified tourists". As a headline it's hard to beat but the creature that washed ashore in Oxwich Bay that day was even curiouser still. What people had in fact stumbled across was a colony of Goose Barnacles, more typically associated with deep water though occasionally washed ashore following stormy weather. We've certainly had plenty of that lately and it's perhaps no surprise that our walk along Cefn Sidan at the weekend found two separate clumps of these natural wonders clinging to flotsam.

The buoy above represented the largest grouping though sadly we were too late to see the writhing mass reported in the press. These were most definitely ex-barnacles. Even so their fascinating structure was clear to see with long stalks topped by a structure remarkably similar to that of a Puffins beak. Out in open water the Barnacles feed by by moving those 'tentacles' around in an effort to catch plankton brought towards them on ocean currents, and as a result are often found on exposed coastlines. Unfortunately that choice of habitat was probably the downfall of these individuals though at least it gave us an excellent opportunity to study a rare visitor to our shores.

Those birders among you may be familiar with a certain legend which surrounds Goose Barnacles and their namesake the Barnacle Goose. The story goes that before migration was understood people struggled to explain the disappearance of Barnacle Geese from Europe each year and assumed that they had gone only to spontaneously reproduce several months later. Owing to the similarity in colour and shape to the Goose Barnacle it was deduced that one must come from the other and so a legend was born. There's a nice local connection here as well as it was Welsh monk Giraldus Cambrensis, born just along the coast in Manorbier, who first published and popularised this theory sometime around the end of the twelfth century. He wrote:

 “these birds are not flesh nor being born of the flesh for they are born at first like pieces of gum on logs of timber washed by the waves. Then enclosed in shells of a free form they hang by their beaks as if from the moss clinging to the wood and so at length in process of time obtaining a sure covering of feathers, they either dive off into the waters or fly away into free air. . . I have myself seen many times with my own eyes more than a thousand minute corpuscles of this kind of bird hanging to one log on the shore of the sea, enclosed in shells and already formed”.

Seabird Wreck, Cefn Sidan

The loss of a single Guillemot on Saturday was saddening but it in no way prepared us for events on Cefn Sidan beach yesterday afternoon. What had started out as an isolated walk to enjoy the crashing waves turned into a research and rescue mission as we discovered hundreds of dead auks spread out over two miles of beach. Every ten to twenty meters seemed to uncover a new body, many of them clearly recent and with no visible signs of oiling or other injuries.

The cause of this tragedy is once again the fierce winter storms that have been at the centre of our regions life for the past couple of months. Out at sea rough conditions have made feeding nigh on impossible for these birds leaving them exhausted to the point where even if it was to calm down, the energy to hunt is simply not there. Sadly reports have been coming in from far and wide but it seems that this weekend has seen a peak in casualties being washed ashore locally. Though morbid there is research value in recording these events and with that in mind we diligently counted everything along a two mile stretch. The numbers were simply shocking.

Puffin (top left): 1

Razorbill (top right): 39

Kittiwake (bottom left): 5

Guillemot (bottom right): 36

Herring Gull: 2

Unidentified: 3

Trying to escape back to some normality it was pleasing to see that life was still continuing to hang on with flocks of Kittiwakes at the waters edge accompanied by several hundred Sanderling. As birds go it's hard to find another species that can bring a smile to the face quite as readily as these little bundles of energy rushing back and forth in the surf.

Unfortunately it wasn't long however before my eyes alighted on a Guillemot still alive but clearly in trouble. As we approached there was a feeble attempt to stand before the bird sat down and looked at us pitifully. Mindful of our failed efforts yesterday we put in a call to the RSPCA who promised to pass on our concerns to the local inspector. In truth I didn't expect anyone to come and we had to walk on feeling completely helpless, but a couple of hours later we received a call. The inspector had arrived and was asking for directions. Now those of you familiar with Cefn Sidan will know that it is a vast, flat expanse of sand but we did our best and left them to search. Another call shortly after wasn't the update we'd been hoping for however. It turned out that although they'd found the exhausted Guillemot it was too emaciated to save and had to be put down. Hearing that news felt, as silly as this may sound, very much like a personal bereavement as all afternoon we'd been thinking about the bird and hoping for its survival. All we have now is the slightly hollow consolation that we at least were able to end its suffering in as comfortable a manner as possible.

Beached Bird Survey 2014

As I touched on above this wreck is turning into a much larger event and is certainly the worst I've ever seen in the last decade or so of birding. It's got so bad the local sightings pages are starting to resemble more of an obituaries column than the usual stories of success and discovery. Collating these reports is the job of the Beached Bird Survey which runs every year coincidentally during the last weekend of February. Full details can be found here on the RSPB website and I strongly encourage you to to report your own findings to them. In the meantime all we can do is hope that the populations of these birds can recover and that conditions improve in time for the coming breeding season.

Guillemot Trauma

With just the morning free today there was only time for a short walk along the Llanelli foreshore before work once more beckoned. Luckily our visit had coincided with the high tide however allowing excellent views of the varied waterfowl still present along this stretch of coast. First up was a rather nice female Pintail on the Afon Lliedi with a Little Grebe and female Red-breasted Merganser further upstream. Prize find though was a female Goldeneye diving beneath the surface at rapid intervals, a species Emma had been eager to catch up with since my sighting of one last week. Around the corner and two small beaches bordering the Machnys development delivered two Curlew and a male and female pair of Red-breasted Mergansers out in the Burry. Closer to home I can't deny a brief moment of excitement at the sight of several small birds along the strand-line, though my hopes for Snow Buntings were quickly dashed. Instead we found at least five Reed Buntings feeding presumably on sand flies or something similar. Even stranger was to come however with the arrival of several Greenfinch (my first of the year) and a single Robin. Definitely not the sort of birds you'd typically associate with this type of habitat.

Towards the end of the second beach a large lump out on the rapidly expanding sands caught my attention. A quick check through the binoculars seemed to show a Guillemot sat down but surely that couldn't be right. Closer inspection confirmed that it was indeed a Guillemot and given its lethargic state it was clear that all was not well.

There have been numerous reports from across the south-west in recent days of seabirds being washed ashore due to the winters violent storms and it seemed that this poor individual was just the latest victim. Not entirely sure of what to do for the best (we couldn't catch it as the bird had already scarpered away on initial approach and we were a good distance from the car) Emma began to search for the RSPCA's phone number. While she did that I kept an eye on several dogs in the near vicinity but couldn't react quickly enough to stop one darting in and snatching up the Guillemot. Some encouragement with my foot managed to get the dog to drop its catch but sadly the damage had already been done and the bird died in front of us.

This sad spectacle was made all the worse by the response from the dogs owner. Despite Emma calling across he refused to quicken his pace or call back his dog and still did not move it away from us after several times of asking. Even worse was his reaction upon seeing our obvious displeasure at what had just unfolded. Instead of perhaps apologising or just moving on he stated that it was only a bird, and an injured one at that, so what did it matter? That kind of attitude is just typical of society these days and one that seems to be spreading at an alarming rate.  Another of the "If there's nothing in it for me then why should I bother" brigade. My only consolation is that when he did finally leave it was considerably more briskly than his approach so perhaps a degree of guilt had been stirred.

Since then I've been playing events back over in my mind and wondering if we took the correct course of action. Should we have just left nature to its own devices? Should I not have photographed the bird or approached at all? Should we have tried again to pick the bird up and take it to safety despite the stress this would have caused? In truth there's no way of knowing but I have now added the RSPCA number to my phone and will be better prepared in the future. A sad end to one of my favourite bird species but hopefully lessons have been learned for all involved.

Attempting to regain some of the lost joy from our day we continued along to the large pond at Careg-fach where we found a pleasing array of waterfowl comprising two Pochard, six Tufted Duck, two Gadwall and a smattering of Coot. Meanwhile the rocky shore opposite held a sizeable roost of at least 160 Ringed Plovers, a decent count for this stretch. Turning for home another couple of small Reed Bunting flocks were seen feeding on the beach, perhaps confirming that this is a regular activity for these birds, before we finished off with a final scan of the Afon Lliedi. One Little Egret and two more Gadwall had arrived along with a good count of Lesser-black Backed Gulls but sadly nothing out of the ordinary. All in all a pleasant walk though tarnished by the irresponsible actions of another.

Fungi, Poo and Some Beauty - Patchwork Challenge 2014

Despite a valiant effort this month I have so far failed to add to my Patchwork Challenge tally. Inclement weather has undoubtedly played its part with patch observations limited to the garden alone. One upside to this has been an increase in sightings for our sporadic flock of Long Tailed Tits with a maximum count of five being recorded early on Sunday. As usual they didn't stay around for long but were seen again on Monday at a similar time. We've also been observing more Lesser Black-backed Gulls, no doubt being blown up from the Loughor, and the Ravens have become a regular fixture as they patrol across neighbouring farmland. Fortunately these meagre offerings were finally subsidised with a good few hours of patch bashing on Saturday afternoon though the results were nothing to write home about. Strong winds have typically been the death knell for birds on the exposed hills around Cefn Drum and this outing was certainly to be no different. Gopa Hill only managed to deliver the usual woodland species with a pair of flyover Mistle Thrushes being a nice addition whilst one Meadow Pipit also passed overhead. Probably a resident rather than the start of any spring migration however.  Up on the Common last months surprise Snipe was nowhere to be seen despite even more suitable habitat having been created as a by-product of waterlogged fields. There was however plenty of Turkeytail fungi with this example showing a colour range I've not previously observed.

Looking down into the valley finally kick-started our day with a Buzzard quartering the ground beneath us. Viewing these birds from above really does add an extra dimension and a brief spell of sun showed it off to great effect. A few minutes later and it was the turn of a trio of Red Kites to add some excitement, by far our highest count locally this year. I can't be sure if they were actually associating with each other or just happened to arrive at the same time but they quickly dispersed and went their separate ways. One bird did stay around the valley though offering me a good opportunity to finally photograph a patch bird (my Patchwork Challenge blogs were starting to feature more fungi than actual birds!). As the camera shutter closed I'd been vaguely aware that the Red Kite had lifted its feet though it wasn't until I viewed this image later that the reason became clear. All I can say is that I'm glad the bird wasn't right overhead!

The high level road allowed good views of the local Rook flock feeding in fields before it was time to drop down to the valley floor. Welsh Water have been making excellent progress here on the flood relief scheme for Pontarddulais though the new wetland has so far failed to attract anything. I still have hopes for this area though they may not be realised until final landscaping has been completed. In addition it's good to see that the Dipper habitat has been left intact so lets hope that they breed here again in the coming months. Saying that I haven't seen the adults for several months though they do seem to move further downstream during winter.

And now, as the saying goes, it's time for something completely different. Working in my office one night last week I heard rustling sounds coming from behind a bookcase. Fearing that some sort of rodent had managed to gain access I moved a couple of things to see what was there. To my surprise out popped a slightly groggy Small Tortoiseshell butterfly looking completely alien against the setting it now found itself in.

Undoubtedly this individual entered the house late last year in search of a suitable place to hibernate and has been here ever since. Presumably the heating and warmer ambient temperature finally woke it from its slumbers, perhaps a little earlier than would have been preferred. Clearly I couldn't leave it where it was so instead have taken it to a sheltered wood pile in the garden. After a few hours of resting it has since vanished so hopefully it has either crawled further into shelter or gone off in search of food. Whatever the outcome I shall officially class this as my first sign of spring, a season that has never before been quite so anticipated after such a dreadful winter.

37 Species / 38 Points