Sounds of the Dawn Chorus.

It is 3am and I am already heading out in the dark to join an annual event, the 'Dawn Chorus' walk at Bookham Common.

With a few street lights glowing in the dark it is likely that I'll hear Blackbird and Robin on my journey BUT what other species might I hear before the dawn light appears? Possibly a Tawny Owl calling and maybe a Nightingale singing.

If you check back later on Sunday I will add a list of the species both heard and seen.  FAB. 


UPDATE:

The walk commenced under a windless, clear, star spangled sky with the temperature hovering just above freezing point and didn't get much warmer over the ensuing three hours! Strangely the first species I heard was Canada Geese some 20 minutes before the walk started.

38 Species recorded by me in memory order. [H = Heard only; F/O = Fly over]

Canada Geese, Blackbird, Robin, Song Thrush, Wren, Blackcap, Chiffchaff, Magpie, Wood Pigeon, Common Buzzard, Stock Dove, Carrion Crow, Pheasant [H], Bullfinch [H], Common Whitethroat[H], Herring Gull (F/O), Great Spotted Woodpecker, Dunnock, Greenfinch, Blue Tit, Coal Tit [H], Great Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Grey Heron (F/O and on nest), Cormorant (F/O), Jay, Kestrel, Nuthatch, Skylark [H], Sparrowhawk, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Little Grebe, Coot, Moorhen, Ring-necked Parakeet, Jackdaw, Mistle Thrush.

The cold temperature definitely reduced the volume of the chorus that I have previously experienced at this location and this also probably accounted for several expected species failing to get on the list e.g. Tawny Owl, Treecreeper and Nightingale although one was heard by the leader a few days ago. I will endeavour to revisit on a much warmer day and compare the outcome. FAB.

Chiffchaff.

One of the earliest migrant warbler songs that I listen for on my local patch walks is that of the [Common] Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita) and over the past few days I have seen and or heard at least a dozen individuals at two different locations. Whilst some birds do overwinter in our southern counties the majority visit the UK from around the Mediterranean from mid-March until October.

Typically this 'LBJ' flits around fairly high up in the trees seeking out insects while continually announcing its presence. Its call is a soft whistled 'hweet' but the song is usually a series of well spaced, clear, monosyllabic notes.

This species is very similar to the Willow Warbler (P. trochilus), which also arrives here in April, but in early Spring the distinctive, repetitive song and dark legs of the Chiffchaff makes identification easy. I'll be listening out for a returning Willow Warbler during the coming weeks.

Wishing everyone wherever you are a glorious wildlife watching Easter weekend.  FAB.
 
Linking to Saturday's Critters and I'D-Rather-B-Birdin'

Territorial Songsters.

Over the past few weeks our garden has come alive in many ways; various plants producing new green shoots, clumps of bulbs erupting into colourful displays of blues, whites and yellows; and at least two resident avian species regularly pronouncing their territorial ownerships.

The male Blackbird (Turdus merula) uses an old cherry tree stump as a lookout post to spy for anything lurking below that might be a tasty snack. Whilst there is no evidence of nest building in our garden he can be heard every morning, even before it is light, belting out his unmistakeable rich repertoire from the highest branch.

As in past years a single male Robin (Erithacus rubecula) frequents our garden on a daily basis patiently waiting for me to disturb something edible in the soil when I'm gardening. He's now in his full finery and regularly takes up position in the hawthorn to let any intruders know that this is his territory.

So at last .... Spring is here and the voices are rejoicing.  FAB.

Linking to Nature Notes and Wild Bird Wednesday.

Early Morning Bird Song.

A week ago I set my alarm with the intention of catching the 'Dawn Chorus' but overslept by half an hour by which time the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky at Bookham Common and the bird song was not as vocal as I'd expected. However in the first 20 minutes I heard two Nightingales plus 2 Lesser Whitethroat singing deep within the scrub and a distant calling Cuckoo to add to my year list.
Click here to hear the delightful song of a Nightingale.

The first photo call was a Blackbird in full voice, silhouetted against the western sky. 
Click here for a song recording.

 

Slowly the cloudless sky lightened and I headed in the direction of the calling Cuckoo but failed to find its perch within the wooded area but added Nuthatch, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Jay, Woodpigeon, Green Woodpecker, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Pheasant and Stock Dove to the list.
 
Returning to the open 'plain' I snapped a perched Kestrel just before it flew away. 

 

The next obvious chorister was a Song Thrush, initially just enjoying the early morning rays on its high perch and then it promptly turned away to utter its repetitive song.

Click here for a song recording.

 

As expected I saw and listened to numerous Robins as they all confirmed their presence from their lofty song posts.

I also saw and heard Willow Warbler , several Common Whitethroat, Blackcap, Chiffchaff, Chaffinch, and Dunnock.  

With the warmer weather the green clothing on the trees and bushes continues to intensify day by day so very soon many species will become more difficult to find. Above are a female Blackcap and a male Bullfinch taking a rest.

A cropped view of a silent Chiffchaff perched amongst the blossom.

Birds flying over the common included Jackdaws, a lonesome Greylag Goose and a Common Buzzard slowly soaring upwards. Others not photographed were Mallard, Collared Dove, Crow, Magpie, Canada Geese, Ring-necked Parakeets, Sparrowhawk, Grey Heron, Starling and a single Swallow which passed over the common heading northwards.

Wrens were also very vocal during my walk but failed to perch long enough (or I failed to operate the camera quick enough!) for a decent picture. 

I saw several species collecting nesting material including this obliging Robin.

As I returned to my starting point around 9am (some three hours later) the male Blackbird was in the same place and still belting out his territorial song. The final tally for my morning stroll was 34 species.  FAB.

Chiffchaff.

The numbers of returning Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita) heard during my patch walks has increased dramatically over the past two weeks but typically singing from lofty perches too high overhead for a decent photo. However during a visit to Bookham Common this individual was far more accommodating.

   It slowly edged upwards along the branch before uttering its distinctive song.

Linking to I'D-Rather-B-Birdin', Camera Critters and Saturday's Critters.

Singing in the wind.

I don't know why any bird would pick such an unstable perch to announce its presence on such a blustery day but this male Reed Bunting (Emberiza schoeniclus) continued to sing with brief silent interludes for over 10 minutes whilst rocking back and forth.

To listen to its song with the sounds of Wren and Reed Warbler in the background just as I did during a visit to RSPB Lakenheath, exactly a week ago, please click on the recording below.

Its conservation status was classified as RED following a rapid decline of more than 50% from the mid 1970's to the mid 1980's but with evidence of some recovery in numbers it was moved to the AMBER list in 2009. Because of its association with wetland breeding habitats (reedbed and riverine scrub), it has been informally known in the past as the 'water sparrow'. 

Interesting fact: Over 50% of Reed Bunting chicks are not fathered by the pair male but are the result of an adulterous liaison, the highest recorded rate of any bird.  

Wishing everyone a wonderful wildlife watching weekend. FAB.

Linking to Feathers on Friday and I'D-Rather-B-Birdin'.

Cuculus canorus.

Wednesdays are the usual day each week that I drive the 50 minutes south-westwards to the Surrey-Hampshire-West Sussex borders to visit my parents. Talking to my mother the evening before she indicated that they had a few tiring days and there were a few gardening jobs on the 'to do list'. With her approval I indicated that I might stop off at Witley Common for, no guesses, a bit of wildlife watching.  

After parking roadside I had a quick scan over the normal area that I walk but neither saw or heard any birdsong so decided to venture onto another part of the heathland on the other side of the road.

My route took me steadily uphill on an open track bordered by heather and a few Birch trees which hindered my view over the heath. Once again all seemed extremely quiet until I heard the distinctive loud call of Cuculus canorus (click below to listen) which sounded as if the vocalist was fairly close but out of view.

Using the foliage of the Birch as a screen I peered uphill and located my quarry and just manged two shots on auto setting before it decided to fly away probably to another favoured distant song post way out of sight.

Of course many will instantly ID this species just by its call but if you are any doubt then the way it perches with its wings hanging below its tail is also very diagnostic. In flight a Cuckoo can easily be mistaken for a raptor and I will freely admit that I have made that mistake on a few occasions while leading a bird walk! Having said that, in flight, the wings rarely lift above the horizontal plane so that is one method of distinguishing it from other similar flying species. Below is a cropped view of this long distant migrant that visits the UK to breed by brood parasitism of various species from its wintering grounds south of the Sahara Desert in Africa.

In my formative years this species was very common but Cuckoo numbers in the UK have been in serious decline since the early 1980's with a drop of 63% in England which is much greater than in Scotland or Wales. In order to understand the possible reasons the BTO (British Trust for Ornithology) started the Cuckoo Project (click the link for more information) and the development of 5g tags is now enabling them to understand more about their migratory routes and the problems they may encounter. Of course there are many other factors, including the dramatic changes to our Spring and Summer weather patterns, affecting both the Cuckoo's breeding rates as well as many of our other smaller migrant birds that also winter in Africa. More individuals have been tagged this year so hopefully in time the increased data will assist this important research but of course we can't change what mother nature chooses to throw at them.  FAB.  

Sylvia Singing.

I have been listening to the sounds of Chiffchaffs since mid March but in the past few days this has been surpassed by the newly arrived BLACKCAP (Sylvia atricapilla) and today was no exception when I paid a brief visit to Epsom Common. This songster usually delivers its warble from a dense and concealed perch anything from 4 to 13 metres above he ground. One of four males I saw and heard today was a little more conspicuous but I only had a few moments to capture a passable image before the presence of another walker prompted him to seek another more distant and hidden song post.

Probably the most easily identifiable of all the European warblers; dirty greyish-brown above with lighter olive-grey underparts plus the male has a very distinctive black scullcap (reddish-brown on the female). It is principally a species of open forest with a lush understory but also colonises riverside woodland, olive groves, parks, gardens and urban areas.

Full on vocals.

The song, often confused with the Garden Warbler, starts with a noticeably mumbling, uncertain beginning then switches to a rich fluty warble with a very strong whistling finish. Like other Sylvia warblers it also produces a variable sub-song of squeaky rasping sounds including immitations of it's cousins.

I have read that males with a high song rate; 160 to 180 phrases per hour, are those that posses the best territories, with a high density of suitable vegetation for nesting. Those with phrase rates of 80 to 100 per hour probably hail from territories with more open vegetation and therefore are more vunerable to predation. Females obviously chose the best mate based on the information honestly disclosed by these song phrase rates but that is not everything. Males that sing a lot apparently contribute less to feeding the young so a female choosing a lower quality territory may well gain more assistance from her partner in bringing up her chicks.

Now I wait for the others to arrive......Garden Warbler, Lesser and Common Whitethroats.  FAB

A better way to start the day?

On Tuesday with an aching back due to incorrectly lifting and moving a pot in the garden over the weekend (no comments please, it’s my own fault!) I decided to leave early for work and dropped into Bookham Common to stretch the legs. The early morning sun was still hidden behind cloud so not brilliant light for any pictures but I took the camera just in case. While heading towards the Blackthorn thickets four Jays noisily flew over and the other sounds were from a Robin high on his song perch confirming his overnight survival, a Greenfinch ‘sneezing', and a Blackcap started warbling very close by. Could I get a shot as I crept around the thicket? No he was deep in the shade and responded to my presence by flying away. Next on the list was Chiffchaff and while thinking about a possible photo my attention was broken by the scolding call of, did I hear correctly, yes, a Common Whitethroat [first for the year]. Again I crept closer and closer as it tantalisingly moved ahead of me through an area of brambles providing brief glimpses but never still enough for a photo.

My next encounter was with a dog walker who I have chatted to on many occasions but still don’t know his name (must ask next time). This gentleman does not consider himself as a ‘bird watcher’ but carries his bins and usually tells me what he thinks he has seen or heard. Today was no exception. Apparently shortly after our last encounter in late February when we discussed the recent sightings of Hawfinches behind the station he actually saw one for the first time just yards away from his parked car and 10 minutes after I had driven away. Did I feel “gripped off” – not really, life’s too short and there is always another year! The other important bit of information he imparted was a definite sighting of Cuckoo on 4th April so my ears did not deceive me when I thought I had heard a brief call during a visit last week. I’ll be keeping an eye on the usual song posts to confirm the Cuckoo’s presence.
After we parted I saw both Blackbird and Wren in full song plus a Willow Warbler repeating it’s wistfully descending call from a very tall birch and definitely too high for a photo call. Just about to return to the car and the beautiful repeated phrases from of a Song Thrush caught my attention. I stealthily moved closer and closer to his high perch and whilst partially obscured by branches I finally managed one half decent shot.

With his repetitive phrases changing I started to pack up just as a lady dog walker passed me by and said “Is there a better way to start the day?” As I acknowledged her comment the Song Thrush departed for another song post and I headed to work quietly recalling all the sounds I had heard and knowing that for “The Early Birder” this is the best way to start any day.

Birding by sound?

On Tuesday morning I stopped off at Bookham Common for a 20 minute walk at 7.40 am on my way to work. It was a calm, windless morning with the sound of birds coming from all directions but would I actually see anything?

As I followed the path from the Tunnel car park through the woodland I heard Wren, Song Thrush, Blackbird, Great & Blue Tits, a Woodpecker drumming plus the strident call of a Nuthatch. A brief view through the trees of a Grey Heron probably returning to the heronry, 2 Stock Doves & Carrion Crow flew silently overhead. A scan of the tree tops behind the railway station produced NOTHING. As I returned to the car I thought I heard a Bullfinch.

On the drive into work I got to thinking (disastrous I know at my age) that it's that time of year again when I start to wonder whether I can remember the calls of those migrant visitors (warblers in particular) that will be arriving throughout the spring. I have never found it easy to listen to a long list of sound recordings on tape or CD and then store this information in my brain for prompt recall. My tactic has always been to go out into the 'field', listen and then try to locate the songster and match the sound to the 'face'. Generally this works but I often wonder what I have missed. It's a bit like "phishing", for me it’s a bit hit and miss!

A few of my memories of 'birding by sound alone':
Some people seem to have a natural aptitude for bird sounds - I particularly recall an autumn pre-breakfast walk in Mid-Wales with DC and in the space of 10 minutes he ID various calls of at least 15 species and we hadn't seen a thing - that's why he is a professional and I'm a mere amateur.

I distinctly remember the first time I heard the glorious sound of a Nightingale, singing on a warm humid evening, surrounded by biting insects, on Bookham Common just after the sun had set. (But not seen!)
The next occasion was a week later when I heard a Nightingale singing from within woodland at Bookham Common. I slowly followed the sound and eventually located the individual perched fairly low down but in the open next to a well used path. For the next 20 odd minutes I watched and listened as this male belted out his song and with an ancient hand held Dictaphone I recorded his song while at least two dog walkers quietly passed by and were presumably totally unaware of what I was doing. I used this recording for a few years to introduce others to the sound of Nightingale as it tends to be a species that few actually see. Regretfully the tape has long since disappeared but the memory is still strong.

During recent annual 'Dawn Chorus' walks at work the first hour is birding virtually in the dark and just using your ears to listen whilst trying not to bump into any of the 30 visitors who have come to witness this event as we head into the gardens. The problem is everyone wants to know which birds are making every single sound! My normal response is to suggest that they stand quietly for a few minutes and just listen thereby enjoying the growing additions to this orchestral feast of sound - this actually gives me time to get my brain in gear before attempting to identify all the relevant species. I'm sure I've made a few bloomers over the years but nobody seems to mind.

On previous annual camping holidays to Sandringham in Norfolk we would lie awake waiting for the local Tawny Owls to start talking to one another interspersed with their well known and often repeated 'kewick' shrills. Memories of my first birding trip abroad to Mallorca are directly linked to the daylight calls of the Hoopoe (a trisyllabic & repeated 'oop-oop-oop') and the nightly sonar-like 'tyuh' of the resident (Eurasian) Scops Owls which can be heard, I believe, up to a kilometre away.

A trip with friends to Stodmarsh in late January a few years ago when it was so foggy you couldn't see more than 10 metres in front of you and most of the water was totally frozen. The comment was uttered "what the hell are we doing here in these conditions"? Well I said "you'll just have to use your ears, I can hear Ducks somewhere out there" and reeled off a few specie names. Who was going to argue? Actually it turned out to be the best day for Water Rail as we counted no less than 15 individuals seen and a few more heard throughout the day AND a sighting of Bittern if somewhat hidden by the moving fog. So it wasn't all bad despite the conditions - You just have to adapt.

Finally on my arrival at work two 'honking' Greylag Geese flew overhead. As I headed across the car park I was greeted by the sounds and sight of Blue, Great & Long-tailed Tits plus Chaffinches feeding as they worked their way through the Alders. A pair of Great-spotted Woodpeckers alighted on a nearby tree and followed each other from perch to perch and then quietly flew away together while a Nuthatch called from the edge of Battleston Hill and the resident Robins and Song Thrushes were announcing their prowess from various song posts. The last sound was the squawking call of two Rose-ringed Parakeets as they flew into the gardens.

So what are your experiences of 'birding by sound' AND do you have any tips for improving your memory in order to identify both common and migrant species?